Broken Hearts Read Free Page B

she opened her eyes, still bouncing, still holding on so tightly, still out of control.
    â€œMelissa, another dream,” her mother said softly, peering down at her in the blue-black light of the darkened bedroom, her eyes wet with concern. “Another bad dream, Melissa. Wake up.”
    â€œThe horse wouldn’t stop,” Melissa said.
    Mrs. Davis wrapped her daughter in a hug. Her nightgown smelled of perfume, tangy and sweet.
    My mom feels so cold, Melissa thought, staring wide-eyed but seeing nothing. I guess it’s because I’m so very hot.
    â€œThe horse wouldn’t stop,” Melissa whispered, pulling away, sinking back onto her damp pillow. “I was going to fall.”
    â€œFive months later and you’re still dreaming about horses,” Mrs. Davis said softly. She leaned forward and clicked on the bedside lamp.
    Melissa squinted against the harsh cone of yellow light. “Yeah. Five months later,” she said glumly, finally out of her horrifying dream.
    The horse faded into the light. The rhythm of its hooves drowned out by a rush of cold wind through the open bedroom window.
    â€œThe same dream over and over,” Melissa said, pulling the covers up to her chin. “It’s even the same horse.”
    Her mother stood up, yawning. She crossed the room, the old floorboards creaking under her bare feet, and closed the window.
    Melissa could see a half moon high in the sky, split in two by a black wisp of cloud.
    â€œEventually the dream will go away,” Mrs. Davis said softly. She came back beside the bed and stared down at Melissa tenderly.
    â€œIt’s always the same,” Melissa told her, trembling under the covers. “And it’s so real.”
    Her mother leaned down and gently brushed Melissa’s thick black hair off her forehead. “Just a nightmare,” she said. The words sounded hollow—to both of them.
    â€œThe same horse,” Melissa muttered, picturing its dark back, its long-haired mane.
    â€œHave you seen Rachel and Josie lately?” Mrs. Davis asked, pulling down the sleeves of her nightgown.
    Melissa nodded. “I visit Rachel whenever I can,” she said, her voice breaking. “I think she’s happy to see me. It’s really hard to tell. She doesn’t say much. Just stares a lot.”
    Her mother tsk-tsked, shaking her head sadly, her eyes wet with tears again.
    â€œSometimes Rachel seems pretty good,” Melissa continued thoughtfully. “Sometimes I think she understands what I’m saying. But then other times, I’m not sure. I mean, sometimes when I visit her, she talks crazy. She doesn’t make any sense at all. And sometimes . . . sometimes I don’t think she even knows who I am.”
    â€œHow dreadful,” Mrs. Davis said, her voice barely a whisper.
    Melissa turned her eyes back to the window. The moon was completely lost in black clouds now.
    She pictured the horse again. Felt its throbbing back. She heard its throaty gasps.
    â€œAnd what about Josie?” her mother asked.
    Melissa uttered a loud sigh. “I don’t know, Mom. Josie and I just aren’t friends anymore.”
    Mrs. Davis’s eyes widened in surprise. She lowered herself to the edge of the bed and brought her face close to Melissa’s. “Why, Melissa?”
    Melissa had to choke the words out. “Josie blames me. She blames me for Rachel’s accident.”
    Her mother gasped. She squeezed Melissa’s hand. “But that’s so unfair!” she exclaimed.
    Melissa closed her eyes. “I know,” she whispered. “I know . . .”
    â™¦ ♦ ♦
    â€œSteve, stop it! Don’t come any closer!” Josie exclaimed.
    She backed up, her boots snagging in the shag rug. She eyed Steve Barron warily as he continued to stalk her, a strange smile on his face.
    â€œCome on, stop!” Josie cried, her back colliding with the pine-paneled wall. “What