October 13, 2015 - 8:30 a.m.

I gasped and sat up. My eyes bulged, and my stomach heaved up and down. I rested my hands on the sides of the bed to keep myself from falling back.

I glanced around the room.

The sun was out, and its bright light shined through the open window, causing the room to brighten up. Cool wind made its way in, making the curtains dance at its command.

I felt the wind brush itself against my body, the top half that was not covered by the blankets, and shivered.

My palms sweated, and I could feel my fingers slowly slipping away from the mattress. I let my hands let go of the bed and plopped my head back down on the pillow. I wiped my forehead and collected my thoughts.

What just happened?

I remembered having a peculiar dream. Just like the first one, I remembered being kissed by a boy. But it was not just a boy. The boy was so much more.

I sighed. If only I could remember the dream in full detail.

I rested my body for a few minutes and soon decided to get up. I got out of bed, making sure not to slip and fall on the hard, wooden floor due to my sweaty palms.

I turned and examined the bed. The sheets were messed up, and both the pillow and mattress had sweat stains on them.

Man, I must have sweated a lot that night. I usually do not sweat that much.

I then heard a knock at the door. "Who is it?" I asked, a bit startled by the knocking.

"Shelly, it is me. Hannah," Hannah informed. "I wanted to let you know that my dad is almost done preparing breakfast. It should be ready in a jiff."

"Oh. Okay." I rubbed my stomach. "I am hungry."

"That is good to hear. Be in the other room very soon." I heard footsteps near my door, and then they faded. Hannah must have left.

My face saddened as I kept rubbing my stomach. I was not in the mood for food. I was not in the mood to eat.

I tilted my head back and massaged my neck.

I do not know why, but I have trouble eating in the morning. I have had this problem even before my parents died. My stomach will be filled with butterflies, and my throat will hurt like the dickens. It is not because I am nervous, sick, or have to go to the restroom. My guess is that is how my body is. It does not like to eat in the morning, especially when it is early. I usually skip breakfast and wait until lunch or dinner.

I know that breakfast is the most important meal of the day, but I always do fine without it.

I patted my hair down, and then opened the door, straightened my nightdress, and raced down the stairs. I had to hurry and inform Shivers that I did not want breakfast before he fixed a helping for me.

I went into the dining room. Lights from the chandelier that was hanging above the huge table glistened, its lights flashed on me.

The dining room was absolutely gorgeous. The walls were pure white, and the wooden floor was as shiny as glass. It must have been polished recently.

In the center of the room was the wooden table, and surrounding the table were four wooden chairs. On the table, there were...

I groaned. "Oh, no," I muttered under my breath.

There were three plates, each one in front of a chair, stacked high with food. And next to the plates were napkins, silverware, and three glasses of what looked to be apple juice.

I looked away and covered my mouth to keep from gagging. I could feel the pains in my throat and stomach hurt even more. It was like a nightmare that had come to life.

"Shelly?"

I looked to where the voice came from and saw Stine and Hannah. They were looking at me with concern looks on their faces.

"Shelly?" Hannah said, taking a step towards me. "Is something wrong?"

I slowly uncovered my mouth and rubbed my arm, lowering my head. I did not know what to say. I mean, would they understand that I did not feel like eating? Or would they think that I was insane?

"Shelly, what is the matter?" Shivers asked. "I made a special breakfast in your honor. French toast and pancakes with eggs and bacon on the side."

I shuddered, hearing what kinds of food that he prepared.

Hannah placed a hand on my shoulder. "Are you feeling alright?" she said. "I hope that me leaving the window up in your room was not a bother. It is usually hot in that room."

"Except at night and when the season is cold," Shivers added. "That is why I closed the window before bedtime."

I looked up at him. "Then...then why was the window up this morning?" I said.