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Colours in blackness a.., p.1
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       Colours In Blackness - A New Life, p.1

           Tammy Dunning
 
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Colours In Blackness - A New Life
COLOURS IN BLACKNESS

  A New Life

  By Tammy Dunning

  Copyright March 28, 2011

  ISBN-978-0-9869300-3-4

  Special Thanks

  My daughter, Mandy Dunning created the cover for this novel. Mandy is an excellent artist with so much talent. Thank you Babygirl! I love you!

  My Mother, Sandy, for being the first to read, and help edit this book. Your ideas helped make it complete. Thanks Mommy!

  The second reader, Cheryl... Even though you were recovering from a major surgery, you still read, and corrected a lot of overlooked mistakes. Thank you so much!

  The Third reader, Jennifer… She gave the book a teenager's seal of approval, which means a lot, because she’s a big reader. Your help was greatly appreciated. Thanks Darlin’!

   

  CHAPTER ONE

   

   

  “Laura? Laura, answer the question please.” Mrs. Grant is summoning me. I must have dozed off. This migraine headache is worse than any of the others. The light hurts my eyes; feels like they're actually burning up from the inside.

  Two days now. I've had this stupid migraine for two damn days! It's not so bad right now. At least I stopped throwing up. I didn't eat breakfast this morning, because I was nauseated and was afraid that I'd puke in class. I'd never live that one down, but now I'm starving.

  I’m eighteen years old and I've been getting these ridiculous headaches most of my life or at least as far back as I can remember. But lately, they seem to be getting worse.

  “I'm sorry Mrs. Grant, I didn't hear the question.” What was I going to say to get me out of this; randomly pick an answer, blurt out something that has no relevance to her question and get laughed at by my fellow classmates? I don’t think so.

  “I asked you, what the capital of Northwest Territories, and what their main industry is? You would have heard me if you weren't napping during the lesson.” My teacher is a little snippy today.

  Mrs. Grant is a nice teacher. I like her, but she's tough. If you don't pull your own weight, then she'll fail you. But I'm a good student, holding a 3.8 grade point average, so teachers don't usually bother with me.

  “Oh. Um, well, Yellowknife is their capital, and I think they mine gold up there.” My brain is going to explode. Please don't ask me anything else. I don’t want to have to think anymore.

  With a smirk on her face, Mrs. Grant adds, “They also mine for coal.” She goes on talking about the Northwest Territories, but no matter how hard I try to pay attention to her, I just can't focus. I'll probably never go there anyway.

  Please let the bell ring, so I can get the hell out of here. Wait, no, the bell ringing will be like knives stabbing through my brain. But at the same time, I know it will get me closer to relief. School will finally be done for the week. TGIF... Huge!

  I just want to go home and hide in my room. I'm going to close my curtains and my door; no outside noise, just the sound of my own breathing.

  I want to just curl up in my bed with the blanket over my head. Oh it sounds like Heaven right now. I just have to endure the fifteen minute bus ride from Belle River back to Tecumseh.

  I live in Tecumseh, Ontario. That's near the southernmost tip of Canada; just across the “crick” from Detroit, Michigan. That's what a lot of the old timers say, ‘just across the crick’.

  Tecumseh used to be a small town, according to my mom who's lived here since she was nine years old. Now it's more like a city, even though everyone still calls it a town.

  The biggest news of the week is when someone gets their car broken into. Needless to say, it's still safe to walk down the street alone at night.

  There's always someone walking their dog here, even in a snowstorm. They just put a goofy sweater on him, and sometimes even booties. You can almost see the humiliation on the dogs face as he saunters by.

  Living here isn't so bad... boring... definitely. At least we have a huge variety when it comes to the weather. Winter snowstorms where the temp drops to about -20F (-28C) or worse, and summer heat waves of up around 110F (43C) degrees or more. It varies. It’s the humidity that’ll kill you.

  I awaken to the sounds of birds outside my window. Some robins decided to nest in my window box that is usually full of flowers. Of course I couldn't plant flowers after they had created a nest in there. What do I do, throw it over the edge and watch their eggs splatter on the cement below? I'm not that cruel.

  Besides, I've enjoyed watching them huddle over the eggs when it was raining. It's gross when they first hatch. They look like ugly little veiny things.

  I've been watching them and I never realized how fast they grow from simple little eggs to beautiful robins. They're getting their adult feathers already. They've lost most of their down feathers, which are soft as a cotton ball, by the way.

  Pretty soon I'll be watching them fly from the nest. Well hopefully they'll fly and not splatter. I think I'd be pretty upset if they fell.

   

  Note to self: Be sure to plant seeds in the box before they come to roost next year so that flowers will grow around the nest. It'll be pretty.

   

  My headache isn't so bad this morning, but my eyes are still sensitive to the early afternoon light. Sleeping in until 11:00 is magnificent. There's nothing like knowing that you have absolutely nothing to do, so you can sleep for as long as you want.

  I finally pull myself out of bed and make my way down to the kitchen. Mom's sitting in the front room watching TV and playing games on her laptop. Probably some dumb 'shoot the bubbles' thing. She seems to like those pointless types of games.

  Dad's out in the garage building something. I can hear his table saw wailing away as it chews its way through some poor innocent piece of wood. I wonder what he's making.

  His work always looks awesome, but I can't figure out why he doesn't just go out and buy the stuff instead of making it himself. That sounds so much easier to me. He says that it gives him a sense of pride for a job well done, and that I should try it some time.

  Ah, the kitchen… breakfast. I know we have my favorite cereal because I put it away when we sorted the groceries last night.

  The cereal tastes so good, the milk is super cold.

  Mom comes strolling into the kitchen with her half empty mug, heading straight to the coffee pot to get a refill. “Good morning, baby girl! How'd you sleep?”

  “I think I might have slipped into a coma, not just slept. I had some really bizarre dreams.” I mumbled as I shoved more cereal in my mouth.

  It's true… I don't remember having any dreams that actually made any sense. Just flashes of colours, with bubbles floating around. I could almost see people and other odd pictures in the bubbles. Nothing made any sense... some really crazy stuff. Nothing like I’ve ever dreamed before.

  “So how's the headache?” Mom sips her coffee and groans because she burnt her lip again. It's a common occurrence.

  “Not too bad.” A strange feeling waves through my head, almost as though I'm losing control, or getting farther away from my physical self. My arms start tingling. The bowl of cereal slips from my grasp and smashes on the floor in what seems like slow motion. I can't move my legs.

  Pain… Sheer utter agony. My head is going to explode!

  Blackness… I… Can't... See...

  Flashes of bright colours flicker and smear together. It's like a kaleidoscope, only the multitude of shades blur into each other creating colours that I've never seen before.

  I feel like I'm floating... quietly, softly while these colours engulf me. When I move my hand back and forth, the colours blend together leaving a trail of swirls and waves.

&nb
sp; I can’t help but laugh. This is so amusing. I must be dreaming. My weightlessness is something that I’ve never felt before. It’s almost like I’m swimming through the beautiful hues, only I won’t drown if I stop moving. I just float in zero gravity amongst blushes of reds, blues, greens, yellows and other colours, that as of yet, have no names. They are unearthly.

  A bubble starts to form so far away and slowly coming closer. There's motion inside the bubble; like a movie playing. I can't quite make it out.

  This is so much like the dream I had last night. Am I dreaming? I wasn't asleep when this started, so I must be hallucinating. But why? Maybe it’s because of the migraine.

  So where am I? What's happening to me? I'm not scared, not panicking. I feel nothing but calmness. No migraine pain.

  In the bubble there's an airplane at an airport. Why am I dreaming about a plane, if I am actually even dreaming? If so, this is a really bizarre one. A plane would be the farthest thing from my mind. I've never even been on one.

  It's like I've floated right into the bubble. I can see the whole picture now. Everything's so sharp, like it's playing in HD or something better. The 747 is driving down the runway getting ready to take off. The wheels lift from the ground and start to fold up so they can hide away into the underbelly.

  A blinding flash… Fire in the engines… The plane is going down. I should be horrified, but I have no real emotion, I’m numb. Pardon the pun, but I feel like my emotions are on autopilot. It is only a dream after all.

  In a huge ball of fire, the plane slams into the ground. It rips apart as it skids and drags on the cement. While it’s flipping, it’s tossing pieces, scattering them all over the runway and surrounding field. I look closer at the flying debris. Some of the pieces aren't fragments of the plane, they're people, and some of them are on fire.

  In an instant I'm being pulled backwards. Not pulled, so much as sucked. As my body flies backwards through the colours, a trail is left in my wake, swirling with beautiful pastels. The bubble is getting farther and farther away. Again I float in blackness…

  I gasp for a breath of air, sucking it deeply into my lungs. I open my eyes to see my mom leaning over me with a look of panic on her face. Why am I looking up at the ceiling and lying on the kitchen floor? How the hell did I get here?

  “OhmyGod! Laura, are you ok?” Even though she's panicking, my mom is trying to keep her voice as calm as possible. It’s a mom thing.

  “A plane crashed.” I have no idea why that's the first thing that fly’s out of my mouth. I should be asking 'What happened?' or 'Why am I on the floor?' things like that.

  “What?” Mom's look of panic shifts into a look of utter confusion. She’s looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.

  “A plane... crashed. I saw it in the bubble. It was bad, really bad. People... scattered all over the runway. Why did I dream that? Was I dreaming? What happened anyway?” Ok so now I'm starting to panic a little.

  “I... I don't know.” There's a dumbfounded look on mom's face. “You just dropped your bowl then slumped backwards onto the floor. Your eyes were fluttering and it was like you weren't here. It lasted only about 10 seconds then you woke up. You said you saw a plane crash?" Mom sits back on her legs and shakes her head. "That migraine pain must have really put your brain in a tizzy.”

  A tizzy? I've grown up hearing that word. “Yeah, the pain got so bad; just before everything went black. That's probably why I passed out… pain.” I've never passed out before, like ever. It’s weird, and I don't want it to happen again. The dreams that go along with it are way too freaky. “I'm ok, just let me up.”

  "Wait!" Mom puts her hand down on my shoulder and looks at my eyes. I mean, she looks ‘at’ my eyes as if she's studying them. "Your eyes are so red. Why are your eyes like that? They're... well they look like you would if you hadn't slept in a month. Do they hurt?"

  I sit up and touch my eyelids. "What? Um, yeah, they hurt a little. They feel heavy, kind of like when I'm super tired. They're red?!"

  “You should go lay back down in your room for a bit, just in case it happens again. I'll bring you some more cereal and a cold pack for your eyes. I'll keep checking in on you from time to time. Do you think you should see a doctor?” I shake my head to say ‘no’. Mom turns me in the direction of the hallway and gives me a gentle shove towards my room. “A plane? Really?”

  I yell down the hall when I’m almost to my room. “No more cereal, I'm kind of nauseated now.” How can I eat after watching all those people die? I didn’t feel any emotion when I saw it happen, but I’m fighting back tears now. It was horrible. If I never see that again it’ll be too soon.

  The mirror confirms that my eyes are indeed red, very red. I resemble a person with a hangover. I flip on my TV and change my milk soaked pajama pants, then flop out on my bed. I can't get the scene to stop playing over and over in my head. Why would I see a plane crash? It's not like I'm fascinated with traumatic events. It just seemed so real. I have to put it out of my mind.

   

   

   

 
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