The Little Girl's REVENGE

Nightmare

NIGHTMARE COMING TRUE

"Heather!" A familiar voice called her name, but she couldn't recall where or when she had heard it.

In shock, she looked around, wondering what she should do. She was trapped in the middle of nowhere. A land filled with white sand surrounded her.

"Heather, come." The voice called again, and a portal opened in front of her.

Afraid to step on it, she stepped back and tried to run away. A gush of wind from nowhere waved, passing through the land, and with a thud she fell on the other side of the portal.

"Hello!" She called when shock evaded her.

"Hello!" She called again, and her own voice answered her back.

Birds sang above her, and she looked around in surprise. She was no longer in the middle of nowhere, but she was lying in the forest. The forest hummed with life around her. She twirled around, gazing up at the canopy, searching for the birds that were singing sweetly.

She crimmed her eyes as the sun broke through the cracks, lightening up the dirt path ahead of her, decorated with outgrown roots, wildflowers, and fallen leaves that crunched beneath her bare feet.

"Heather!"

The voice called again, this time louder and closer.

"Look behind you."

The person shouted, laughing. Not far from where she was sitting, her big sister was swimming in a cosmic-blue river that burbled. Her long ginger-brown hair stuck on her back. She giggled loudly at each stroke she took.

"Dad wants to see you." She shouted, "He is in that cave." She pointed out at a cave that stood at the end of forest almost covered by painpass grass.

When she took a step toward the cave, a voice inside her head screamed.

"Don't, Heather. You will regret it!"

She tried to ignore it by humming her favorite song. She had learned the song from the grandmother years ago, when she was still a toddler. Her mother had a tendency to lock her in the basement whenever she did something wrong. What amazed her was that she never made mistakes alone. She and her siblings were always in trouble, but she was the only one who was punished.

Her grandmother had promised her that the song would make her courageous. She will never fear whenever she hums that song in a scary situation. Unfortunately, the humming proved difficult. No matter how loud she hummed, the voice shouted louder.

Blocking the voice in her head, she tried to concentrate on what she was hearing: the crunching of her feet on the dry-leafed ground. The clattering sounds in the cold winds of the brittle leaves and branches of the low-lying bushes were made when she passed by, and finally, she managed to completely shut the voice away.

Heaving a sigh of relief, she dashed into the dark cave.

"Dad."

She called upon arrival, trying to adjust to the darkness. Her whole body felt numb as the hairs on the back of her head stood.

"Dad!"

She called and stopped almost immediately when crunching noises hit her ears from behind.

Turning around, she gasped in fear when she met pure darkness. She tried to walk out of the cave, but she couldn’t find her way out. The entrance had disappeared. She heard footsteps creeping behind her, and they made the whole situation scarier.

"Who are you?" She asked, using the last bit of courage she had.

A sinister laughter rose, shaking the cave. A tapping sound echoed as bright lights illuminated the whole dark place. Adjusting her eyes to the bright lights, she looked around. The cave contained nothing but a small wooden bed in the middle. A white mattress soaked in blood was placed on top of it.

"Climb on the bed, Heather." A domineering, deep voice demanded

And like a puppet, she found herself obeying the voice. Sitting, she sank on the wet, bloody mattress. A man with long white beards appeared beside her, ripped her dress apart, and lifted the threat on his left arm.

"It’s time to say your last prayers, lass." The man said this while smirking evilly.

The sharp dagger, which shimmered under the bright lights, ascended onto her belly with a whoosh sound. Before she could scream for help, she felt the dagger piercing through her heart, and slowly it was dragged down towards her toned, flat abdomen.

"I am Alejendro, an organ dealer. Rest well, lass."

That was the last thing she heard before closing her eyes.

A kick on the ribs woke Heather from her uncomfortable sleep, which was full of nightmares. She crimmed her eyes as she looked at her surroundings. When her mind settled, she heaved a sigh of relief when she realized she was only having a bad dream.

"What were you dreaming about? You are sweating all over." A deep voice questioned her.

Standing quickly, she looked at Alejendro, shaking in fear. The dream played vividly in her mind.

"I am Alejendro, an organ dealer." His voice rang in her ears again and again. She tried to ask him if what he had said in her dream was true, but her mouth couldn’t form any words.

"Who are you and why am I here?" She inquired, her mouth spitting out words other than what she intended to say.

"I promised you yesterday that I'd tell you everything today. I haven’t forgotten Heather. " "And... the question of who I am... I thought we had already met... not once, but twice, with today being our third meeting." Alejendro counted with his fingers, a smirk plastered across his wrinkled pale face.

"Many people are surprised by your family's wealth, Heather Berriton, right?" He started by asking, and she nodded.

"Well, you are the reason behind that wealth, and I bet you don't know either, right?" He asked again, pacing in the room.

"Yes, with the fact that I have never done anything for my family." "How can I be the reason behind my family's wealth?" Heather asked, surprised.

"This is it, lass. Your dad asked for help from me. He wanted me to make him the richest person in the world. Luckily or unluckily, I managed to raise him up to the second richest person in the world. I know you would want to know if he were to return my help. Of course, yes, he was. He told me he would send a package to me; that would be his payment. I gave him the address, and here is the package." He explained, took a cigar from his pocket, and lighted it.

"Where is the package?" Heather was confused.

"Silly. You are the package, of course." He said this while sitting on a rocking chair, his legs supported by a red-painted folding wooden chair.