Penny flies off the ground, a fireball from the Wisteria Lilac Dragon chasing after her. The dragon’s tail swings towards me, barbs sticking out in every direction. We were trapped down here in this cavern with no escape. This dragon was suffocating us with it’s smoky breath.
   “Violet, look out!” Penelope yells from the other side of the stone chamber.
   I turn to see the dragon barreling towards me, four massive talons reaching out and bared teeth. I cover my nose and mouth with my sleeve and draw my… pen? What?! I scream loudly and Penny covers her ears in fright. The dragon leans back with confusion.
   I peer around the cavern, taking in all the sights. It is beautiful and dreary at the same time. Above a lake of red hot lava is a stone carving of a woman’s face. She’s a beautiful woman, small, linky, and, even though you can’t see it in the carving, I know she is sickly pale. She is so familiar. I know her.
   “Vi!” I turn to see Penny being held down by the Wisteria. “Help me!”
   “Leave her alone!” I scream as I race over. “Take me instead.”
   The dragon makes a gurgling noise as it tries to communicate. Wisteria lets Penelope go and I reach down and pull her out from under.
   Wisteria Lilac wipes a talon below her eye and covers her face, her body trembling. She wraps her tail around her scaly body, smoke seeps from her pierced nostrils. The smoke makes me nauseous and I rub my throat.
   “Vi, I think she’s sick.” Penny says, holding my hand. “I think there’s something wrong with her.
   There was something wrong with her. She was trying to protect the carving. She was doing her best to protect the carving and the cavern. She didn’t want us to leave the cavern like she does every night. She wants us to stay with the carving.
   “Violet, wake up already!” Opel shouts in my face. I roll over, pulling the covers over my face. “You’re going to be late for the first day of school.”
   “Not like I’ve never been to a first day before.” I mutter. Then, “gosh, your breath is awful.”
   “Yeah, well yours is just the epitome of wondrous dental hygiene.” Opel point out.
   “Touche.” I say.
   “Violet, Opel, hurry up, now!” Momma calls from down the stairs.
   “Get dressed and let’s go.” Opel says as she throws a skirt and sweater on my bed and heads for my door.
   “Brush your teeth and let’s go.” I smile as I put the clothes, and some deodorant, on.
   Once I’m downstairs, Momma hands me a paper lunch bag and plants a kiss on my cheek. She pulls me into a hug before chuckling.
   “Did you have another one of your dreams?” She asks.
   “What makes you say that?” I ponder.
   “Because your hair looks like you’ve been fighting dragons.” Momma laughs. “And trolls.”
   “You have no idea.” I smile as I race for the screen door.
   “Bye!” Momma calls after me. “Love you.”
   “Love you, too!” I call.
   Kyle and Stanley are on their beach bikes, waiting. Stanley smiles and waves me over. They’re waiting for me?
   “Hey,” I say once I reach them. “What’s up.”
   “Wanna ride with us to school, sis?” Kyle asks brightly.
   “Are you serious?” I feel my mouth involuntarily fall open.
   “No,” Mr. Sarcasm says. “He’s just saying it because he loves to make jokes and hurt his sister’s feelings that much.”
   “Oh, shut up.” I smile, punching Stan lightly in the shoulder.
   “Come on then, we’re going to be late.” Kyle says already pedaling off.
   Stan and I begin to tear after him. For beach cruisers, the boys sure do know how to make them do anything but cruise. I pedal slowly behind, taking in all the scenery of our small beach town.
   I notice a small group of people waving frantically at us. At first, I think they’re trying to warn us, but then I see they’re trying to wave me down. I slow down my bike and realize it’s Becky and Jillian. Along with Haden Cross. What was he doing here? With them?
   “Violet!” Jill waves hysterically.
   I smile and wave but continue to pedal my bike. I did not want to talk to him. Much less, while Jillian was around.
   Jillian stops hopping and frowns. I se Becky cross her arms and Haden shrugs before stalking off down the sidewalk.
   I put my weight into it and pedal as fast as I can so I can catch up with Stan and Kyle. I only see one of them ahead so that must mean the other has already taken off. Then, I hear spokes from beside me and I turn to see Stan staring straight ahead. I watch him. Study him. He’s so strange. He’s quiet, it’s impossible to know anything about him.
   “What are you staring at?” Stan says and I realize he’s watching me.
   I quickly turn away, heat rising up in my cheeks.
   “Sorry.” I say.
   “How come you hang out with your brother so much?” Stanley asks, obviously trying to change the subject. “Instead of Opel.”
   “Because dragons…” I laugh as I catch myself. “I mean, sisters, stink. Boys are funner to be around.”
   “Is that why you ignored your friends back there?” He asks.
   “No,” I say. I give him a small glare that warns him off a little. “Nosy.”
   “Sorry.”
   We ride in silence for a while.
   “Was it that boy?” Stan ask after a few long moments.
   “Oh, my gosh!” I smile widely. “Do you ever mind your own business?”
   Stanley shakes his head, not looking at me.
   “Why don’t you ever talk about your family?” I ask.
   This must catch him off guard because he swings his head towards me and I can see pain in his eyes and a frown plastered to his face.
   “There’s not that much to talk about.” He says simply.
   “Sure there is!” I smile. “What’s your mother like? Do you have any siblings? What does your dad do for a living? Do you have any pets?”
   “I don’t know. Yes. Nothing. No.” He says.
   I think for a moment, trying to recall in which order I asked the questions. I look at him and suddenly I feel like I made him very angry. No, not angry. Sad; upset.
   “I’m sorry.” I say. “Did you… lose your mom?”
   “No,” Stanley looks at me. “She lives in southeast London with my older brother and my twin sister.”
   “You have a twin?” I ask, my interest peaked.
   “Yes.”
   “Why don’t all of you live together? How come you’re the only child that lives with your dad?” I inquire.
   “Because I’m the only one who understands.” Stanley looks at me, his voice and eyes serious. His tone, and whole persona, has changed in the last three minutes. I’ve never seen this side of him. I notice him pull his sleeve over his palm and wipe his eyes. “I’m the only one who understands why. Why he did it.”
   I stare at him. Him at me.
   Then we ride on in silence and I know this a darkness swarming around him that was never there before.
   After school, we all gather in the Montgomery backyard. Stanley, Becky, and Ian (Opel’s boyfriend) join us for hamburgers and potato salad. The boys play ball; Momma, Opel, and Ian talk about ‘adult things’; and Becky, Penny, and I make jewelry out of seashells we found last weekend.
   “Why’d you ignore us earlier before school?” Becky asks, not meeting my eyes.
   “I didn’t ignore you,” I say, “I waved and smiled. I was going to be late for school, though.”
   “Mhmm. I’m sure that’s why.” Bec shoots me a look. “It was Haden, wasn’t it?”
   “Maybe,” I shrug. “If it was? Big deal.”
   “Right.” Becky nods. “Penny, do you like this one?”
   “No!” Penny squeals. “No pink!”
   “Okay, geez, child.” Becky smiles while saying it, though.
   “Incoming!” Stanley yells. I turn to see their ball flying towards my face. I duck and it lands in the grass behind me. “Sorry about that!”
   “Again?” I smile. I pick up the ball and hand it to him. “You really have a thing for hitting my with baseballs, huh?”
   “Well, I don’t know if that’s the case exactly.” Stan smiles.
   “You’re Stan, right?” Becky asks. “Vi, this is Stan?”
   “Yes.”
   “Yes.”
   “Wow, you’re….” Becky pauses. She obviously doesn’t want to confuse Australian and British.
   “British. Yes, I am.” Stan answers.
   “Who is that?” Penny asks suddenly. I look to where she’s pointing to see a brown haired man with dimples and a suit watching us from the Pfeifer’s yard.
   “Is that…?” I breath.
   “Yes.” Stanley says. “That’s my dad.”
   Memories. Hundreds of them. Flooding me; drowning me. I see newspaper articles, people dressed entirely in black, people crying as the hug Momma, the newsmen talking to her, Kyle holding me, Opel disappearing every night, and then I see it.
   The man on the news, not the reporter but the one they were looking for. Momma cried into her hands and then spit on the TV screen.
   “How can you kill a doctor?” She had cried. “How could you kill a scientist! You murderer.”
   That was the man on the television. Now, he was walking down our stepping stones, hands in pockets.
   “Dad?” Stanley stands up from off the grass, brushing himself off. “What are you doing?”
   I was so young, I couldn’t put two and two together back then. But this time, this time I see it. I stumble to my feet as Momma comes out the screen door. She has a platter of the burger patties in one arm and a pitcher of tea in the other.
   It slides out. First the burgers, then the tea. One makes a bang and a the other a smack. She freezes in her steps, both hands shooting to her mouth. Stanley walks towards the man, almost in slow motion. At least to me.
   “You’re… you’re the… the guy from the newscast.” Momma says as she points a shaky, bony finger at him.
   “Pardon me?” The man says. I can see his face is stern. But he can’t hide his quivering lips and shaking hands.
   “Stan….” I whisper. I feel a hand on my forearm and turn to see Becky frowning.
   “Hi there,” the man says. “I’m Jacob Pfeifer, Stan’s father.”
   “Get off my lawn.” Momma’s voice comes out as leaky acid.
   “I’m sorry….” Jacob says. “Did I say something?”
   Momma leans over and plucks the empty platter off the grass. She regains her stance before launching the plastic plate at Jacob. He shouts something and ducks behind our fence.
   “Mrs. Montgomery!” Stan runs over to her and wraps his arms around her. She pries him off and shoves him to the ground.
   “How dare you!” Momma is crying now. “Did you know? Do you know?”
   “Ma’am, please.” Stanley whimpers. I see Jacob has regained his composure.
   “Did you know, Stan?” Momma hisses furiously.
   “Yes!” Stan lowers his face. “Yes, I knew. I knew the whole time. Please, you have to hear me–hear us–out!”
   “I don’t have to hear anything from either of you.” Momma says. “Kyle, get me the telephone.”
   “Momma, what’s going on?” I say, finally.
   “Now, Kyle!” She shouts as he races into the house.
   “Mrs. Montgomery,” Jacob begins. “If I could just say that–”
   “Shut your mouth!” Momma screams. Kyle comes out of the house, the screen door slamming shut behind him, and hands her the phone. She begins stabbing numbers into the keypad.
   “Momma?” I ask. “Please, tell us what’s going on.”
   She begins sobbing words into the phone. I hear the back gate close and a motorcycle start up, Ian is leaving.
   “Violet,” Opel says from beside me. “That man… killed Daddy.”
   My breath catches in my throat and my hand goes to my mouth. I can’t believe this. I mean, I can, but I don’t want to.
   “Violet, Kyle, please.” Stanley begs. “It’s not what you think.”
   “How is not?” Kyle spits. “Your dad is the same one who was plastered all over the news for three weeks for murdering my father while he was working at the hospital labs.”
   “It’s not…” Stanley pauses.
   “Do you deny it?” Kyle asks.
   No answer.
   “Do you deny it, Stan?” Kyle shouts.
   “No,” Stan mutters. “No, I can’t deny it.”
   I hear the somewhat familiar whoop-whoop of police sirens outside the fence. Gosh, she called the cops. On who? Jacob or… Stan?
   “Violet, please.” Stan begs. “You have to understand. You know me! You know me!”
   Police officers, five of them, knock on the outside gate.
   “Jacob Pfeifer?” One of them calls. “We’re here for your arrest. Your son will also be taken into custody as an accomplice to your thirteen year hiding.”
   “Oh, my gosh.” I sob. “What have you done?”
   The officers begin crowding through the gate. Jacob and Stan put their hands above their heads in surrender. They were done. There was no point in trying to run. I hear Momma sobbing all the way in the kitchen.
   “Violet? Kyle?” Stanley calls as one of the cops cuffs him and begins dragging him towards the gate. “Please, you have to help us! It’s not what you think!”
   “You didn’t deny it.” Kyle mutters.
   I hear the police door slam and the officers shout Jacob’s Miranda rights. Sobbing comes from all directions as one of the officers waltz over to share a few words with Momma.
   I can’t believe this all just happened.
   “They can’t do anything to him, right?” I ask Kyle and Lena. “To Stanley?”
“As long as they don’t prove anything stronger against him.” Lena says. “I think.”
I take a deep breath. Who knew Kyle and I’s best friend would be the son of the man that murdered my father thirteen years ago.
It’s not what you think!
What did he mean that? He obviously didn’t try to deny that his father killed Daddy. So what did he mean by it being different? There’s no excuse, right? I mean, there’s no way he can just excuse his father murdering mine.
Right?
That was the first time I met reality. Unfortunately it wouldn’t be the last

    I walk silently along the beach. The small, deformed puppy follows close beside me. His head is hanging right above the ground. The poor thing. I found him a few weeks ago. He’s the cutest thing. I think I love him.
    The beach waves roll up to our ankles, they yell their commands at us. Move this way, move that way.
    Suddenly, the puppy jumps back and begins growling. His hair stands on end. He stares at me with savage eyes before leaping towards me, mouth open and claws outstretched.
    I scream out with….
    I wake up out of the dream with a start. Rubbing my eyes I crawl out of bed and head into the bathroom and wash my face. I realize when I sit on the toilet that my pajama shorts are already wet.
    I sob into my hands. I haven’t done that in a while.
    I silently walk back into my room and strip the sheets off my bed. Sobbing the whole time I do it. Normally, Momma would help me but it’s still three in the morning. She won’t be up for a long while. So, I take the soiled linens to the laundry room and retrieve some new ones from one of my dresser drawers. I neatly tuck the bottom sheet in and then throw two quilts and a comforter on the top.
    When I was nine years old, Momma took me to see a psychiatrist. I was so scared. Ii remember that Kyle had to help drag me everywhere. The doctor told Momma and I that my dreams were for me and by me.
    “They’re lessons.” He had said. “You are just imagining places and people in… parable like states.”
    I never knew what that meant until about six months ago. I had an odd dream that almost perfectly aligned with the day before it. Ever since, I’ve been scared of large events.
    That puppy. That stupid puppy was Stan’s counterpart. I trusted him. I took him in. And then when the police came, when the waves came, he turned on me.
    I lie down in the clean bedding, whimpering. I hated these dreams. I just wanted to dream like normal people. Some people, mostly my grandma, say that my great imagination is what helps me in the dreams, and in life. I say that these depressive dreams are killing me bit by bit.
    My phone dings and I reluctantly roll over to grab it. I snatch it, swipe the screen, and squint at the brightness of the screen. I tap on my messages icon.
    It’s Becky.
    -Hey, know ur probably still n bed but I heard about Stan
    I sigh. She always texts at the oddest times.
    -Yeah, I’m up.
-You’re up aerly
early*
-Yeah, bad dream.
-Sorry
How r u?
-Fine. Thanks.
-Yeah I’m doing fine too thanks
I grumble and roll onto my other side.
-Sorry, I’m a little out of it.
-It’s fine. I’m sorry about Stan.
I’ve gtg. TTYL
-Yeah, love you
-Love you 2
I turn my phone back off and set it on my nightstand. I shove my head into my pillow and take a deep breath. I just don’t understand how everything could change so quickly. This must’ve been what it was like the night my father was murdered. My mother must’ve wondered how everything could change so fast.
I would do anything to change it. If I could turn the clocks around, the Pfiefers would be innocent and my father would be alive.