Chapter Three

Edward, dressed and with his wallet, keys, and phone, walked along the neighborhood sidewalk. The sun shone in his eyes whenever he looked up, so he stared at the ground. While passing the empty lot, he saw something twinkle in the early morning light. He bent down to investigate.

It was an old necklace with a locket. The chain was pure silver, but the locket was covered in rust. Edward picked it up by the chain and found it to be surprisingly light. He covered his hand with his jacket sleeve and held the locket. It was completely rusted. He wouldn't be able to open it now. He pocketed the necklace.

A few minutes later, he arrived at Graysen's house. He texted him "I'm here" and unlocked the front door with his copy of the key.

Graysen's dad was asleep on the couch. The T.V. was playing the news, but it was muted. Edward quietly snuck past the middle-age man and up the stairs to Graysen's room. He overheard the sounds of whispers in the twins' room. He knocked softly on his door.

Graysen opened it and grinned at his friend.

"Come in," he mouthed.

Edward stepped into his room. Graysen closed the door behind him.

"Alright, spill the tea, sis," Graysen said, flopping backwards on his bed. Edward sat down on the beanbag chair in the opposite corner. He made a face and Graysen raised an eyebrow.

"One of the weird ones?" he asked. "I mean," he said, rolling his eyes, "Weirder."

"Not quite," Edward said quietly. He looked out the second story window. A little voice wondered how it would feel to hit the ground from this height. "It was… a nightmare."

Graysen rolled over and looked at the ceiling.

"A nightmare? What'dya mean by that?"

"Hnn." Edward tried again to work up the courage to tell him. "Well… you were in it. And so were… my parents. Kinda."

"Kinda?" Graysen swung his legs down to the floor, sitting up. "What do you mean, kinda?" Edward leaned back in the beanbag chair.

"You… three were all… well, see, there was a monster, and- but-," he sat up, "it was, well, you guys," the words started tumbling out of his mouth, "but you were all stitched together and dead-looking, but I knew you were still alive, and you had all your limbs, but they were all sticking out at weird angles and I threw up, but not really, cuz the vomit stayed in my throat- and- and-" Graysen was sitting straight up, eyes wide, frowning, "and you- you all- it- said, "Wake up James." And then I woke up. At 3:33 A.M." The time had never mattered in previous prophetic dreams, but Edward couldn't help but include the detail. It seemed important. "That's why I asked if you knew anyone named James," he added when Graysen didn't say anything.

"Hrm." Graysen started chewing on his bottom lip. "Hrm." He looked towards his bedroom door. Edward followed his gaze.

"My father's name is Jim," he said under his breath.

"Is- is that a nickname?" Edward asked.

Graysen shrugged. "Could be. Never seen him write his full name on any important documents."

They looked at each other.

"No, Edward."

"I didn't say anything-"

"You were thinking it. Hell, I was thinking it. And it's a terrible idea. My father is hungover, and unless he sleeps it off, there's gonna be hell."

"I know," Edward looked at his dirty green carpet, "I know."

Graysen swallowed.

"Why- why do you think it asked you to 'Wake up James'?"

"I don't know. This has never happened before."

"And what does it mean- me and your parents, all stitched together like a bad quilt?" Edward thought the quip was in poor taste.

"I don't know, Gray! I don't know," he buried his head in his knees.

Graysen started pacing the floor, kicking aside old soda bottles and chip bags.

"Did anything else happen in the dream? Any other clues?" he asked.

"No," Edward mumbled from the beanbag. "It was there, and I threw up, but it didn't leave my mouth, and then it told me to wake up James."

"Do you remember the specifics on its appearance? What were the bodies wearing? How were we arranged?" Graysen was sounding more and more agitated.

Edward groaned. "I don't want to think about it."

"You have to think about it!" Graysen yelled. He stopped dead in his tracks and held his breath. The walls of this old house were far from soundproof. After a few minutes, he let out a breath. Edward looked up at him with tired eyes.

A few soft knocks were heard on his door. Graysen walked over and opened it.

"Hey, guys," he said to the twins, "Sorry for yelling. Everything's fine, go back to your rooms." Edward heard the sound of footsteps sucurring off. Graysen closed the door, and bumped his head against it. He sighed. He looked twenty years older.

"Okay," he said, "Okay, we don't have to talk about it. I mean, it's probably nothing!" Graysen pushed off the door and offered Edward a wide, toothy smile. "Come on, let's play cards."

They played with Graysen's old deck of face cards for a few hours. Graysen knew all sorts of two-player games. Most of the time, it was enough to ease Edward's mind. Today, however, the sick feeling never left his stomach and he couldn't forget the monster with one of its faces right there, trying to get him to smile.

"This isn't helping," he muttered around nine after one of Graysen's terrible jokes.

"Oh come on, I'm a five-star comedian, born to be on the stage sipping from a bar stool's water bottle," he said, bumping shoulders.

"No, I mean, I can't forget about last night's dream. Especially because…" He looked Graysen in the eyes and then looked down at his dirty carpet.

Graysen sighed and leaned against the wall.

"Maybe you shouldn't've come over, is that what you're thinking?" he asked.

"Yeah," Edward said.

They were quiet for a few moments.

"Look, dude, I know your dream was weird and cryptic and horrifying and all, but, like, there's not much we can do about it. It'll come true sooner or later and then we'll laugh about it and move on," Graysen said. Edward shook his head.

"I don't know, Gray. I have a bad feeling about this."

Graysen scoffed. "A bad feeling about what?"

Edward waved his hands around vaguely. "I don't know. Everything. It's a bad omen, man."

"A bad omen? Please." He rolled his eyes. "All of your dreams are bad omens. When was the last time something good happened because of one?"

"Two years ago, January 5th, when I dreamed my dad climbed up a mountain and then he got promoted," Edward recited in monotone.

"Jesus," Graysen held up his hands in mock surrender, "I didn't mean literally. Besides, two years? Dreams come at least once a month, yeah?" He leaned back again.

"If you average them," Edward was shuffling and reshuffling the cards, "I can have several in a week or go for months without one."

"When was the last one then?" Graysen yawned.

"Three months ago, the Failed Surprise Party."

Graysen laughed. "It sure is hard to keep a secret from a fortune teller."

They settled into silence, thinking their thoughts.

"...Look, man," Graysen started to say, running his fingers through his silver-strands of hair, "I don't know what to tell you, or how to make you feel better. Just- listen, whatever happens, I'll be there right next to you, 100%."

A corner of Edward's mouth twitched up.

"Now you're just being corny."

"Well slap my ass and call me a grain, I just can't help being a staple crop," Graysen said in a terrible midwestern accent. That got a giggle out of Edward. Graysen gave him a hopeful, yet bashful, smile. Edward returned it, just a little bit.

"Okay, you win. I feel better."

"And he sticks the landing!" Graysen threw his hands into the air dramatically. He fell backwards onto the floor and Edward just shook his head and laughed at him.