Mr. Stout stared at me as I emerged through the door to my first period chemistry class a minute late. His safety goggles magnified his eyes tremendously, and made them look even more dull and dead as usual.
“And what’s your excuse miss. Goldfield?” he asked smirking. The people in class stared at me the bored looks on there faces turning to interest. I scanned my brain for a sensible lie.
“My car, my car was running out of gas and I had to stop and get some.” I said.
“Venice, don’t let this happen again, this is your second tardy and another is an automatic detention.” He said rolling his eyes as he turned back to the experiment. I exhaled and stumbled to my seat. As soon as I sat down, excruciating pain shot through my head and up my back, it hurt so bad I couldn’t even scream. Then it stopped and I was in the dream again in his arms, hell blazing beneath my feet, and im asking “your name, tell me your name.”
“You know my name.” he growled out.
“No. I don’t, who you are, I don’t know...” I mumbled out.
“Think Venice, you know.” he whispered, his dark eyes blazing into mine. Then I knew. He was….

“Venice! Venice!! Are you alright? Come on, to the nurse with you.” Mr. Stout said as he helped me from the floor I was sprawled on. I had an excruciating head ache; it felt like my eyes were going to fall out. I felt dizzy as I stood with his little assistance, Mr. Stout wasn’t very strong. I stumbled and almost fell. I felt strong arms embrace me and pick me up cradling me like a child, my legs dangled limply. “I’ve got her Mr. stout I’ll take her down.” A deep voice said. I didn’t recognize it. I opened my eyes and looked up, it was him, From my dream!
“Thank you Ethan.” Mr. Stout said dully. I was awestruck. He carried me from the class, not even glancing down to me or saying a word. He turned the corner to the nurse’s office, as I admired his mesmerizing beauty; he was every bit as beautiful as my dreams, and every bit as terrifying.
“You know why I’m here Venice, you know who I am.” He whispered his voice melodic and satanic, and…lovely.
“I swear, I don’t know, all I know is that you, you’ve been in my dreams. Who are you?” I said slightly enraged that I didn’t know.
“All in due time.” He whispered and dropped me on the plush cot in the nurse’s office.

By the time I’d left nurse joys office id been stuffed with crackers and water, because she said it was probably a mild case of dehydration. I meandered through the hall, slowly stepping through the door of Mr. Stout’s classroom. He was pouring chemicals into graduated cylinder, they fizzed, smoke oozing from the mouth.
“Your okay, Venice?” he asked lifting his goggles up onto his balding head.
“Yes sir. Where is Ethan? I’d like to thank him for taking me to the clinic.” I said looking around the classroom.
“Who is Ethan? You walked to the clinic by yourself Venice.” Mr. stout said giving me a strange look.
“He was just---“
“I think the heat may be getting to your brain miss. Goldfield, please have a seat.” He said shaking his head, replacing his goggles. I sat down appalled, was my mind playing tricks on me? No he was here. And I was going to find out why.

I trudged through the rest of the day not focused at all on school work. It felt like the end of the day wouldn’t come fast enough, I didn’t even stop at my locker to throw a couple of my books in. I ran to my car throwing my things into the back and pulled to the front of the school to wait for Skye. My nerves were jumpy; it felt like he would appear at any moment. I must have been daydreaming because when Skye got in I just about jumped out of my skin.
“Jumpy today aren’t we?” Skye said his book bag unzipped and hanging off his broad shoulder. My heart hammered in my chest.
“About today.” I said changing the subject so he wouldn’t ask any questions.
“Look don’t worry about it. I know she can be a brat sometimes and I know you guys history, you’re my best friend and she’s my girlfriend, my two favorite gals, it’s a shame you two can’t get along but I understand.” He said a fragile smile plastered on his face. I smiled feeling bad that Skye had to be in the middle of our confrontation. But she and I would always hate each other.
We rode home in silence, Katy Perry playing softly on the radio. He was faced toward the window, watching as the scenery whizzed by, the sun slowly baking the grass, turning it the color of straw. I exhaled, happy he was quite because I didn’t feel like talking. I cascaded around the corner to his house and pulled in the drive way staring silently at his quaint little house, the manicured lawn, and the swaying porch swing that sat untouched. He opened the door, and hopped out, letting a blast of sweltering heat enter the car.
“well I’ll call you tonight, and see you tomorrow okay?” he said gathering his books as he spoke.
“Yea, tomorrow.” I said staring straight ahead, I don’t know but things felt awkward. I was ready to get away from him. He shut the door, and the a.c exploded into the car again. I backed out the driveway slowly, turning all the way around in my seat to back out, instead of using my rearview mirrors. I needed to see him again to find out why he was here and who was he? I sped a little around the bend to my house, and parked crooked. I didn’t even bother to grab my books. I walked through the front door beads of sweat appearing on my forehead from the crazed heat. I went into the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet and just as I expected a half empty bottle of sleep insomnia medication. My dad stressed a lot and on most nights didn’t get a hint of sleep without these pills; they were strong enough to knock out a baby killer whale. I took one and filled my hands with water from the tap and washed it down. i cut off the lights in the bathroom and went to my bedroom and laid on my bed ready for sleep to wash over me. My eyelids felt like two ton bricks. And then there we were. Him sitting in the darkness, me standing watching how his figure sat completely still.
Then it all changed, he spoke. “Venice, think. Do you really not remember me?” he said turning to face me. His black eyes pulsing. My heart was hammering in my chest, I wonder if he could hear it. Maybe he could smell the fear rolling of my body in waves. I stared into his eyes and it felt like electric currents were ricocheting through my body, and I knew.
“Vance. I remember.” I said memories flooding through my head. We were twins, he was my brother. I remember playing in the front yard with sticks and pinecones, starting daycare together. going to his funeral. He’d died when we were two.

I woke up and it was dark. My room was pitch black except for the red numbers on the clock. It was 7:06; I’d been asleep for four hours.

I tousled my hair with my fingers and slowly rose. The sun was setting, sending the last rays of sunshine through my window. Mom got home at 8:30 and dad shortly behind her. I knew what I had to do. I hopped off of my bed and rushed out of my room and down into the hall closet, which was big enough for ten people to fit comfortably. I pulled down the attic ladder and climbed up. It squeaked horrendously under my feet. I almost choked as dust flowed freely around the room, a thin coating settled on everything. I had never seen a picture of Vance, or anything that was his before but I knew if anything was still here it would be up here. I wondered why mom and dad never spoke of him, never told me I had had a twin. I opened a ancient looking box adorned with cobwebs and filth. It was a burgundy leather box about the size of a half sheet of paper. There was a photo inside, damaged and burned along the side, there was a small boy lying down asleep in a. casket. The boy was dead, his bone strait black hair falling across his forehead, his arms crossed, hands clutching each other. His black suit against the lacy white silk making him looks ghastly white. Behind him translucent, and ghost like stood a man, almost as invisible as the dust particles in the background. I swallowed the lump that sat in my throat, blocking my air.
I heard a car door slam out side. I quickly stuffed the picture into my pocket, and scrambled down the ladder, putting it back up just as the front door opened.
“Mom, that you?” I called stuttering my heart beating out of my chest.
“Yes honey, I got off early thank god.” She said muffled from the clattering of her stuff hitting the table. I shut off the light and slipped out of the closet, the picture discreetly in my pocket. I meandered into the kitchen where my mother stood huddled over a steaming Chinese box.
“I am starving Venice. I got you your favorite, combo rice and general so’s right?” she asked with a mouthful of noodle.
“yea right, thanks mom.” I said even though it wasn’t my favorite it was my dads. I grabbed the brown paper bag and walked towards the door of the kitchen, leaving mom to her cell phone.
“Venice where did you get that.” Mom said panic high in her voice. I turned and looked to where she pointed. The picture lay on the ground resting as if it were meant to be there.