Chapter 5

Rachel's POV

"Rachel...." a soft female voice called to me.

"Rachel, we need to wake up." The female voice sounded pleading and almost urgent. But who was it?

My head is throbbing, and I can not seem to shake this darkness. Maybe a few more minutes of rest would be good for me, I think to myself, before trying to drift back to the silence of my sleep.

"RACHEL WAKE UP NOW!!!!" The voice rumbled through my mind, shaking my soul and sending goosebumps among my body. A flash of the clear blue eyes staring at me flashes through my mind but is gone within a second.

My eyes shoot open instantly. I try to sit up, but my head is killing me! I fall back on my pillow. What was that? Normally, I don't dream. I look over at my nightstand to reach for my phone. But the stand wasn't there. Instead, it was knocked over, and the contents in it were on the floor next to it. I stare up at the ceiling and try to remember how I ended up in bed and why stuff is a mess.

I recall seeing Jessica looking beyond pissed. Her eyes were wild with hate and looking right at me. She was holding her face, and was that blood I saw slipping through the cracks of her grasp?

A picture of her rearing back her fist and deliberately taking one hell of a blow to my temple floods my mind.

But something else is missing. Something significant.

I remember falling and feeling pain radiate in not only in my temple from Jessica's punch but also from the back of my head. I must have hit my head on my nightstand. I sit up slowly and touch the back of my head.

"OW!" I hissed out. Yep. Definitely hit it.

I remember my dad and Beth running in and towards Jessica.

"Shit." I say to myself. Somehow, this is my fault. Even if it isn't, it always is with Jessica.

I get up and start to clean up the mess on the floor. I wonder what my punishment would be this time. I also wonder exactly what I said to piss off Jessica enough to lay me out like she did.

I'm about done when I see my chapstick a few feet away. I crawl over and reach for it, but something next to it catches my eye. Is that blood?

I reached out and touched the wet, red, and sticky droplets that were sprinkled around on my floor. Where did it come from? I reach for my face and nothing. I checked my temple, and though it was radiating pain, there was no blood. Lastly, I grazed my fingertips to the back of my skull. It was still tender, but again, there was no blood.

I sat on the floor trying to remember what happened when the image of Jessica holding her cheek came to the front. She had gashes across her cheek. But how?

The memory felt like it was right there. Right in front of me to grasp, but I just couldn't. My headache seems to intensify the more I focus on what happened in my room. I remember Jessica looking down at my hand. Did I cause those gashes? No way. I feel the answer coming closer to my mind. For some reason, I hold up my hand and look at it.

I see something dull brown under my nails. I am just about to examine my hand more closely when a blood hurling scream from outside causes me to stop.