Chapter 4 -- A Little Piece Of Home

After Lane ran into Kent on the trail, they walked together, chatting away. Lane, usually inadequate in social situations, found herself at ease. She found that once she started speaking, she had so much to say--and Kent was an excellent listener. When they arrived in front of Lane's house, Lane took up a seat on the front steps and invited her new friend to join. As he went to take his place on the cement step, he lost his balance for a moment, but caught himself on the railing. Lane giggled a little but didn't say a word.

“So, have you lived here all your life?” Kent asked with much curiosity, as he sat down next to Lane.

“In Connecticut?” she began. “Well, sort of. I'm adopted, you see. I came here as a baby. Not really sure exactly where I was before that.” She shrugged while Kent nodded his head in understanding.

“Do you know who your real mother is?”

Lane shook her head and looked down to her feet. Her lavish hair fell, masking the look of dismay on her face. Her birth mother was never a topic she was ever able to discuss with anybody. Not only did it depress her, but her mother did not seem to like Lane mentioning it. It wasn't forbidden, but Lane had a feeling that it disturbed her.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.”

“Thanks,” she replied, quietly. A yawn came upon her. “It's getting late anyway. Not to mention I am starving. Glad I bumped into you.” Lane and Kent rose simultaneously.

“Yeah, me too,” he said, peering one last time at Lane with his ample blue eyes, and with a smile he took his leave.

The weeks that followed brought a great happiness inside of Lane that she had been searching for for a long time. She had spent many days with Kent by her side and on those days, she found herself laughing and smiling more than she had ever done before. They spent many days at the weeping willow that Lane had once called her own.

One chilly November night, she invited Kent inside for a cup of hot chocolate after a nice long walk. She had been boasting for a while that her mother made a delicious recipe and felt it would be rude to not offer him some. After the drinks were served, they took a seat at the table. Her mother, who had just finished washing some dishes, excused herself and left the room. Kent turned to Lane, eagerly yet very seriously.

“I've been thinking a lot,” he told her. As he spoke, Lane grew nervous, but she listened, curious of what he was going to say next. “I want to know more about what happened with your birth mother. I know that you don't really like to talk about it, but it has been going through my mind since you told me. The whole thing interests me, and I want you to know that you can talk to me about it.”

Lane took a deep, relaxing breath. “Well, there really isn't anything to say. I don't even know her name. I don't know anything about her.” She paused, and something had suddenly dawned on her. “Actually,” she continued. “There is one thing. Come with me.”

She lead Kent up the stairs, stepping softly, and encouraging Kent to do the same, and finally ushered him into her bedroom. Closing the door quietly, she whispered to him not to be loud at all. Kent sat down on her bed and waited intently for what was to come next. Lane was in her closet, tip-toeing to reach something on the top shelf. When she came out, she carried a small, worn jewelry box. She placed on her bed, and when she opened it, she lifted out a remarkable trinket attached to a delicate silver chain. It was a peculiar looking white stone, similar to a diamond, wrapped in a spiral of silver and it sparkled in the moonlight that glowed through the window. Kent was hypnotized by its beauty.

“Wow. Is that from your birth mother?” Lane nodded. “Why don't you wear it? It's really nice.”

Lane put it back down. “No, I can't wear it. If I ever lost it, I could never forgive myself. I take it out once in a while, but I never put it on.”

Kent grinned. “Well, do me a favor. You have to wear it at least once. For the dance.”

Lane raised her eyebrows, confused. “What dance?”

“The dance I am taking you to next Saturday.” Kent looked at her with hope.

Lane blushed as she closed her jewelry box. “I'll think about it,” she said with a smile, and put the box back on the shelf in her closet.

Chapter 3 -- Lane's Secret Tree

It was Friday afternoon and Lane Deveaux sat impatiently at her bedroom desk. Every couple of minutes, she took her eyes away from her drudging school assignments to peek over at the clock that rested atop her bedside table. A week had gone by since her mysterious dream and her efforts to get it out of her mind had gone unavailing.

Her mind was flooded with the realization that she had actually dreamed about someone that she had not known and met him the very next day. It seemed to her, impossible, but it really had happened. It occurred to her that if the boy in her dream had become a reality, what about the eerie voice she had heard? Convinced that it had to have meant something, she concentrated as hard as she could to reenact the scene in her head. She envisioned the storm, she heard the wind and the thunder. Everything was there in her mind, except for the voice. Disappointed, Lane took a deep breath. She desperately needed a break.

Lane decided that she was going to pay a visit to her treasured reading spot. She rose from her chair, picked up a warm, knitted sweater that had be thrown beside her bed, and got her favorite novel from her bookshelf. As she hurried down the steps she called out to her mother.

“I'm going out! Be back later!” Her mother was in the kitchen, chatting away on her cell phone. Lane listened for a moment for her to respond, but all she heard was laughter. “Well, don't say I didn't try,” Lane mumbled to herself and she ran out the front door, slamming it behind her, annoyed. She never quite understood her mother at times. Some days, she was genuinely a great mother. Other days, it would seem that Lane did not even exist to her.

The loneliness that had been nudging at her heart lately, began to seep back into her emotions. It had occurred to her very recently that she had gone 17 years without having a friend in the world. Her school work and reading books had always been able to mask the desolation, but it was becoming more and more disheartening every time she thought about it.

Lane darted up a wooded trail that originated at the foot of her dead-end road. A pair of squirrels were chasing each other through the series of trees that guided her way, causing many bunches of rusted leaves to make their inevitable descend toward the earth. Moments later, a clearing lay before her. In the center of this clearing was a massive weeping willow, secluded from the rest of the trees, with branches that came downward, barely gracing the soft grass of which it sheltered. At the bottom, two roots escaped the large trunk and divided in such a way, that it made for a perfect seat to nestle in and get lost in a good book. Lane stood there for a moment, underneath the branches and took a look around. She took a good long breath, basking in the peacefulness of her surroundings, and finally took her throne and opened up her book.

She had not realized how long she had been there. It wasn't until she noticed she had been squinting to see the words written on the pages, that she looked up and saw that the sun had just set for the evening. Disgruntled by the fact that she had lost track of time, Lane shut her book. She stood up and began walking back to the trail. 

Amidst the trees, an owl hooted, announcing his presence. As she walked, she could have sworn a twig snapped behind her. She twisted her head around, but saw nothing that could have done such a thing. Her pulse began to race and fear was overtaking her. Lane had never been there at night--in the darkness—and had to remind herself not to let her imagination get the better of her, but to no avail. She attempted to walk more swiftly, but the lack of light was making it difficult to see what was in front of her. A rock that had settled in the middle of the trail tripped her, almost causing her to tumble to the ground. When she caught herself, she paused for a moment. Somewhere close by, she could hear a slight breath, or at least she thought she could hear it. Once again, she looked around and saw nothing. Still, her gut was urging her to get out of there and fast. She sprinted. As she ran, she looked behind her to make sure that no one was following her. She still saw nothing, so she turned back to see where she was going and when she did, her sprint was halted by a barricade she was not expecting and she let out a deafening scream. A set of hands took hold of her arms that she had lifted to her chest in order to guard herself. She struggled to be released.

“Hey! It's ok!” The figure in front of her emitted a very familiar and amicable voice. It was Kent Harper.

“You scared the crap out of me!” Lane exclaimed. “What the hell are you doing out here following me?” Lane was relieved to see him, and in fact, quite happy, but that idea was to remain in her thoughts.

“Well,” he began, “I was bored so I went for a walk. I saw you and I wanted to say hi. I didn't mean to frighten you.” They walked the path next to each other as they spoke.

“Wait. You live around here?” Lane had just realized that he must have been very close by.

Kent replied in an excited tone. "You live around here?"

“Yeah! I live down the road at the end of the trail!” Lane answered. She felt a hint of comfort in knowing that she could have possibly met a friend. 


When they came to the opening at the end of the trail, Kent stopped and turned to Lane. A smile stretched across his face. He looked up at the sky for a second and looked back at her. "So, Where are we going?"

Chapter 2 -- A Familiar Face

It wasn't until around third period when Lane started to release the images of her dream from her mind. She had a test to take and she realized that no amount of obsessing over a silly nightmare was going to help her. Attempting to concentrate, she shut her eyes to listen to her instructor speak. All she saw in her mind was a pair of eyes glaring back at her. They were the eyes belonging to the young man in her dream. His eyes were wide and gentle, with a color that matched the ocean. They were almost comforting to her, if it weren't for the goosebumps they had given her. Lane then realized she had not heard a word her instructor had said and when she opened her eyes back up, she saw that her test was sitting on the desk in front of her. With a deep, cleansing breath, she took up her pencil and proceeded to answer the questions that were before her.

After her class ended, Lane strolled along to her locker in a ponderous fashion. The test had come and gone and as soon as she completed it, there was not a thought of it remaining in her head. It wasn't typical for her to be so aloof about such things as her schoolwork, but lately, Lane had been preoccupied with other thoughts that were clouding her brain. The past week, feelings of loneliness her taking of residence in her heart. She wasn't quite sure why, but the unfamiliar feelings lingered within her and the only thought that seemed to keep her from giving into complete depression was the thought of her dream. It was a nightmare in every sense, but it gave her excitement to imagine that it meant something—that somehow, it was important.

The halls were swarming with students. Some were scurrying to their next class. Others were leisurely making their way, entertaining themselves with conversations and laughter. Lane retrieved a book from her locker and as she started to close it, she was slammed into it by a boy who was too busy playing around with his friends to even realize what he had done. A surge of annoyance arose within her, but she immediately swallowed it back up, realizing that it was no use saying a word about it. She simply rolled her eyes and started toward the stairwell.

As she approached the doors to the stairwell, a boy was in front of her with a pile of books and papers in tow. He seemed to be in quite a hurry and as he took his first step up, he tripped, causing a burst of laughter and taunting from other students passing by him. Books were scattered and papers floated like feathers to the floor. The boy laid still for a moment and then pushed himself back up, looking around timidly. Lane's empathetic heart felt his embarrassment as if it were her own and she knelt down to assist him in collecting his belongings.

“People can be such jerks, can't they?” Lane said in an attempt to comfort him. She shook her head, without looking up as she gathered the last of the papers. 

 

“Yeah, I've noticed,” he agreed with a hint of humor. His sarcastic tone evoked a smile from Lane and an instant sense of connection to him. She laughed.

"Just be careful next time," she told him as she handed the boy a handful of papers. She looked up and what she saw was nothing short of a miracle. Her heart's pace quickened and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Goosebumps formed along her arms and her stomach felt as if it had jumped into her throat. "You!" She exclaimed in amazement, staring into a pair of wide, ocean-colored eyes.

"Me!" he replied back in a playful manner. He tilted his head with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

Lane had no intent of giving him an impression of craziness on her first encounter with him. She shook her head in awkwardness.

"You're new here," she managed to get out. Lane sighed in relief and as she stood back up, held her hand out to introduce herself. "I'm Lane," she told him. "Elaine, actually, but everyone just calls me Lane."

"Lane," he repeated, nodding his head. As he went to shake her hand, the books he collected from the floor almost escaped his grip. He managed to save them as his faced turned pink. "Kent Harper," he affirmed. He looked to his feet timidly for a second and looked back up at Lane with a smile. He was very handsome and his smile was warm and friendly. His golden blond hair had a hint of curl to it and his fair skin was dusted with light freckles. Despite his apparent clumsiness, he had an air of confidence that glowed around him. He was so alluring that Lane couldn't take away her gaze. "Nice to meet you, Lane."

Still taken with astonishment, Lane managed to muster up the words "You, too". Kent laughed a little and waved to her as he continued up the stairs. She stood there for a short while, staring at the steps that Kent had just been. Her stomach filled up with a flutter of butterflies and she finally came to terms with what had just happened. Lane had just met the man of her dreams.

Chapter 1 -- A Terrible Dream

The tumultuous winds and the monstrous thunder were assaulting the once dazzling land. The mountain that had, just moments ago , stood majestically in all its glory, began to crumble down into the widening gaps that were growing beneath their feet. The ground shook with a violent force and Lane began to lose her balance. Behind her, the rocky ground on which she stood, opened itself with an angry crack and Lane fell backward. The young man that she was with dove toward her, reaching out his hand. Lane screamed in utter terror as she caught the hand of her companion. She looked down at the vast emptiness below her feet

“Look at me,” the young man instructed. “Just hold on. Do not let go. I am going to save you. You will not fall.” Rocks and debris were plunging all around them.

“I can't hold on!” Lane cried out in anguish as she dangled by one hand above her apparent doom. “I can't do this.” She shook her head and as she opened her mouth to cry out, her rescuer lost his grip and Lane let out a terrible howl as she fell in to the deep nothingness.

Lane Deveaux shot open her eyes when a starling crash of thunder interrupted her horrible nightmare. Her face and bed clothes were soaked in sweat and her heart was beating so rapidly she could have sworn it was going to beat right out of her chest. The roaring winds seemed to have been taken straight out of her dream. She glanced over at her window and saw the curtains dancing in the whirlwind coming in from outside. Still entranced by lingering thoughts in her imagination, Lane seemed to have floated out of her bed and made her way to the window. Her waist-length sandy colored hair whipped around behind her and the wind began to roar louder. Rain drenched the world outside and brown and orange leaves scattered about in the air. Power lines threatened to collapse and rooftops were being ripped apart, shingle by shingle. Across the street, a gate that had been left unhinged, swung angrily, banging the fence it was attached to. Underneath the wrath of the weather, Lane heard a deep, mysterious voice. It was a woman's voice, she thought. She couldn't quite make out what it was saying, but there was no doubt in her mind that it was saying something. She quickly dismissed the thought and slammed the window shut. After one last glance out, she crawled back into her bed and fell back asleep.

The next thing Lane heard was her alarm. With much reluctance, she got herself out of bed. Down in the kitchen, Lane's mother was already getting breakfast started. Lane could smell bacon frying, making her stomach growl. After a quick shower, she made her way downstairs. 
 

“Good morning, Love,” her mother smiled. She was still in her robe and slippers, coffee in hand.

Lane yawned and mumbled back the greeting. She sat down at the kitchen table and waited while her mother finished up the eggs.

“That was a crazy storm we had last night, huh!” Lane exclaimed, attempting to start a conversation. “It woke me up in the middle of the night. I had to shut my window! I'm surprised we still have power after that!”

Lane's mother looked at her, perplexed. “What on earth are you talking about, dear? What storm?”

“You didn't hear it? Wow, I don't know how it didn't wake you up! Take a look outside!”

Her mother shook her head and turned her gaze to the window. “No, honey. You look outside.”

Lane got up and walked to the window. She gasped as she saw a dry, sunny day. The leaves were dry and had not yet fallen. There were no puddles. There was not one hint of a storm outside. Not one. 
 

“Amazing,” she finally let out. “It must have been a dream, then. But it was so intense. So...real!”

“You have quite the imagination, I suppose!” Her mother smiled as she put her arm around her. “Now sit down and eat before you are late for school!”

Lane couldn't believe it and she couldn't stop thinking about that voice. It was so peculiar and it resonated in her mind. It was just a dream, she thought. Just a dream. Lane sighed and began to eat.