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Situated in between apartment buildings 200 and 400 was a playground long abandoned by the landlord. Years of neglect had chipped away at the red paint; the rubber mats were torn and in some spots, missing, leaving the cement ground to cushion any falls from the rusted monkey bars. 

A sense of longing overtook me. It begged me to abandon my pride and play like a child again, but I swallowed down that urge. Noel would have a field day if I came to him with tetanus, so I continued down the path as it curved behind the jungle gym and apartment complex. It eventually edged against a creek littered with trash that separated the bustling complex from the woods, and more childhood memories assaulted me. 

The further I walked, the less headway I seemed to be making. When I thought I had left the playground behind, it was now in front of me. The sight of the same run-down rubber mats and chipped red paint caused me to hasten my steps. Again I passed the creek only to be greeted by the looming sight of the decaying jungle gym once more. 

A sense of dread stabbed at me. 

An ache brought my attention to my hand. Horror ruptured inside me. Cobwebs of stitches that were woven into my palm began to trickle from my fingertips as if they were liquid. The splatter of the dark substance against the sidewalk at my feet swallowed the noise around me, eating it away until it no longer existed.

The still attached threads pitched my arm forward as it stretched down the path that carved itself through the field and towards the dilapidated swing set in the distance. I staggered, unable to stop my body from advancing. With each step, I felt terror rise in me. I wanted to turn around and flee, but the murky twine wouldn't let me go.

Nearer and nearer I got, my feet dragging beneath me until a small hunched over body came into view. I swallowed down a cry as it started to stand. Whatever it was, I didn't want to face it.

It kept its back to me as it cried and pointed. By now my heart was pounding in my ears.

It screamed.

My world lurched, jerking me awake as I collided against something rigid. A groan was forced from me as I felt a dull pain radiate in my back only to repeat when we jostled a second time. I clung to the rear of the bus seat in front of me before settling back. To my side, I could feel Mason's worried gaze boring holes into the side of my head. 

"You should go back home and sleep," Mason urged. 

"I think that'd be a bad idea," I grumbled, attempting to shake away the leftover emotions from that nightmare. 

Even if I went back to the apartment now, I wouldn't be able to rest. All last night, I laid awake, waiting for my mother to show up like she did yesterday morning. And no matter how exhausted I was right then, I felt that I'd still be too afraid to fall asleep.

Mason kept his stare steady before turning away. "I'm just amazed that you were able to sleep right now," he commented instead, hinting at the screaming children behind us. "Though it seemed like you were kind of having a nightmare."

I remained silent for a moment. I could still feel the sensation of my stitches being pulled. Reflexively, I rubbed a hand over the splint, hoping to purge that feeling.

I shifted in my seat to face him. "Was I barking in my sleep again?"

His head tilted towards me. Those dark brown eyes of his gleaming with mischief. "Worse. You were drooling."

"Must've been a dream about food then."

"You were twitching an awful lot for it to be a dream about food."

"Just practicing Krav Maga in my sleep. I'm the only senior on this bus. I'm not sure if I can take all of you on in a fistfight if there's an uprising. So, I gotta stay sharp."

Being a senior that still rides the bus to school sucked. A lot. But I didn't have many other options. A few years back, mother totaled our only car, and we could never afford a new one. Not that I'd want one. All I needed was to give my continuously inebriated mother access to a two-ton weapon.

"Is that why we always sit near the front? Easy escape route?" Mason asked.

"That and I don't think the cool kids would let us sit in the back."

"They are pretty intimidating," he agreed as the bus slowed down to a stop. "But I think you can take them."

"You think?" 

Goosebumps shivered down my spine as a bitter Colorado gale wafted through the bus the moment the folding door opened. Shifting to my feet, I tugged my coat closer to my body, then with my book bag in hand, I trailed behind Mason down the steps and out into the frigid morning air.

The moment we were a few feet away from the bus, Mason turned to face me. His dark hair whipped against his eyes from a sudden gust. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Mason, I'm fine," I dismissed, tucking my own wild tresses behind my ear for safekeeping. "Is this the face of someone who isn't?" 

"Yes."

"Rude."

Fog materialized against his lips as he heaved a defeated sigh. "Alright, I'll see you after school."

"Yeah, I'll see you." I waved goodbye to him and watched as he started climbing up the stairs towards the Freshman Center while my own steps hastened towards the library entrance as a shortcut to my locker.

The warmth was a welcome respite in the old library where the musk of old books and the citrus smell of orange peels embittered the air. Murmurs of voices and pages turning resonated from the center where clusters of students sat lounging at the circular tables, waiting for the day to begin.

A familiar figure came into view descending the steps from the second level with her pin-straight brunette hair tied up in a ponytail and a very worn copy of Wuthering Heights pressed against her face. It was Lillian Hayes, Briar's lab partner.

Just as I was about to call out to her, I watched as she tripped over her own foot causing her to stumble on the landing a bit before catching herself all without once looking up from reading. Unable to help myself, I let out a loud laugh, finding the clumsy girl cute. The noise brought her attention to me.

Those blue eyes of hers narrowed into slits the moment she spotted me. They were absolutely rigid and cold. The sharp unyielding gaze hovered on me for a few seconds before snapping back to her book. I blinked in surprise, wondering if she thought I was making fun of her.

Before I could think of a way to fix the misunderstanding, a body latched onto me from behind, throwing me off balance. Uncomfortable, I shifted under the sudden weight in hopes to alleviate the pressure on my sore back.

"Abbi, I'm cold," whined Poppy as a way of a greeting. "Keep me warm."

Mischievous ideas overwhelmed me at the sound of Poppy's suggestive tone. I wrapped my free arm around her and tugged her close, feeling the bite of my new bruises ease when she moved.

"Have something in mind?" I asked, knowing full well what she was thinking.

"Mmm, maybe," she hummed in thought, her tone playful. "But where were you yesterday? I missed you!"

"Ah, well," I began, lifting my left arm up for her to see the bandaged hand. "I got an owwie."

"What the hell!" she screeched only to then clamp her mouth shut when someone shushed her. 

"Wow, Poppy, we're in a library," I teased like I hadn't just loudly laughed earlier.

"Ugh, whatever," she said in a hushed tone. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Other than Mason, Poppy was the only other person in my life I considered a good friend. Despite only knowing her for less than a year, I felt extremely close to her. But there was a lot about me that she didn't know. My family life was one of them.

Something I planned to keep that way.

I swallowed down a lump in my throat then opened my mouth and lied straight to her face like it was nothing. "I was doing the dishes and had attempted to catch a falling glass. As you can tell that didn't go too well."

Her face skewed with sympathy pain. "Okay, from today forward, I'll be your hands. No more sharp objects. Forks. Knives. Scissors. Nothing. For as long as you live."

A small laugh was dragged out of me only to fizzle away in the acid of guilt that bubbled in my throat. Unable to look at her any longer, my gaze strayed only to catch the sight of Lillian again. She was sitting at a table still absorbed in Emily Bronte's words. I envied people who could get lost in the world of books. I never had the attention span.

Poppy saw what I was looking at and then pulled me away.

When we were out of earshot, she leaned in close to me and hissed, "Dude, I've been meaning to tell you this. Okay, so, you know how I said that you were like Bella and that Briar was Edward?"

"What? When did you say that?"

"Okay, maybe not in so many words and more to myself," she admitted. "But anyway, I was wrong. You're Edward. Briar is Bella. And Lillian is Jacob."

"Okay," I questioned, unsure where she was going with this. "And who's Jacob again?"

"Girl! How can –," she started to shriek but stopped. She sucked in a deep breath to calm herself. "Jacob is the werewolf who also loves Bella."

"Oh, the pedophile that fell in love with the CGI baby at the end?"

"Odd thing to remember him by but yes, the very one."

"Well, that's not very nice to Lillian," I reprimanded, earning me an eye roll.

"I'm not calling her a pedophile. What I am saying is Jacob is sliding in on your homegirl Bella and you need to step up your game and bite your girl already."

"Poppy, I only speak Spanish and English. Please, speak in one of those two languages."

"Okay, Twilight references aside, Lillian is hardcore crushing on Briar. I sit behind the two in AP Lit and they're getting too friendly with each other. She's going to steal him from you."

We stopped at the door to the library; I let my hand rest on the cool handle and looked at her. "Steal him from me? Poppy, there's nothing to steal." 

"I know, I know," my ever so romantic friend huffed as she pushed open the library door and stepped out on the other side. "You don't do relationships, but you two were so cute while eating lunch together Monday that I can't help but ship it, hard."

I shouldn't be surprised that my friends were watching me from the window that day. "You all are a bunch of voyeur perverts."

"You like being watched and you know it," she purred and smiled playfully. "Well, I'm going to grab breakfast before class. We will have to pick this conversation up later."

Poppy's dark brown curls bounced behind her as she sauntered down the hallway.

"Yeah, well, I'm so telling a teacher on you guys!" I called at her retreating figure. A soft chuckle was my only response.