Disappearing Footprints

One moment eleven-year old Shirley Brown is playing a game of Disappearing Footprints in Los Angeles, California with her best friend Phyllis Johnson. Suddenly, she finds herself underground in a sunken room gasping for air. “STAND UP,” someone shouts into her ear. She closes her eyes and ignores them. “I can’t. I need to rest.”

“STAND UP NOW!” they yell again. This time, she dared not ignore them. She stands up pressing her head against the ceiling of the small room. It gives way and a rush of air comes flooding into her lungs.

Gasping, Shirley jerks awake, sweating, as a flash of lightning followed by a clap of thunder roars overhead. A puzzled expression crosses her face as she realizes that she’s standing next to the bed in the sparsely furnished powder blue bedroom in Copper Springs, Oklahoma where she has been living for the last six months.

It was just a dream. A dream that she’d been having all week. Tonight–she didn’t want to think about tonight. “It’s only a dream.”