The morning had just begun in the little town of Salem; the birds were singing their song when suddenly a loud scream interrupted them. It seemed to be coming from the Patience’s home. It was Little Emily’s voice walling over Mother Nature. She had just woken up to find herself a full two feet above the bed, but that wasn’t the only reason she was crying… She just had a nightmare a terrible nightmare that seemed so real it was almost a vision.

((this took so long to write!))

The dusky sun had barely risen, and yet Mary was on full speed, putting kindling in the oven, starting breakfast and guiding her brood, eldest of seven to the youngest of seven and a half months. Her husband was out tending to the cattle and little Marianne, seven years old, was seeing to herself that old Bessie got milked. The other of her children were either fast asleep in their cots (seven month old Joseph, mayhaps three year old Elinor) or washing up their dirt streaked faces and crusty eyes (her big man, five year old Johnny). Tending to her biscuits in the oven and scraping the foam off of the top of the milk bucket, she did not at first hear the scream from the Patience's home, considering it was a good whiles away, but she did hear the second, and it worried her, though not enough to move from her perch. Perhaps the children were having nightmares, she wondered, assuring Marianne everything was fine. It would do no good to get upset so early in the morning. She'd send someone over to the house later, Mary decided. Just to make sure Johnathan Patience was alright, along with his children. They'd had a rough time, with the hanging of their matriarch.
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Not very sweet-tempered, Annie wasn't the least bit happy in being woken up by high-pitched screams and flailing arms. She pushed her arm to the side, assuming the screams were coming from her sister Emily, but was concerned when she met thin air. They slept in the same bed, surely Emily couldn't be that far off. Annie rubbed her eyes and flung the coverlets off of herself, stepping onto the cold floor with bare feet. "Emily?" She called, not seeing her sister in the small room, "Emily?!" The screams seemed to come from above, almost. They had no attic, so how could that be? Annie looked up anyways, her dark hair curling around her face and was astonished at what she saw. Emily was floating! That was.. that was crazy! "Emily, get down here somehow!" She ordered her sister, crossing her arms.

Marcia was still, unnaturally still, with her gentle, brown eyes shut against the beginning morning, and the air was nearly quieted to a hushed timelessness, the light chirping of birds humming calmly below her mind. Her dark curls furled against the snow white cloth of her pillow, and her pallid covers reached her chest as it rose and fell softly with each steady breath.


Moments of balmly peace ticked by, and the young girl deliberated rising from her pale tomb and into the rejecting day. She didn't have long to think, though, as a scream pierced her bubble of quietness, causing her to jolt upright like a rigid staff. She glanced around, and, after jumping to the floor, yanking her bedroom door back and rushed through the hall, peering into each room she passed.

Suddenly, she saw it after peeking inside her twin sisters' room. It had been Emily who had screamed, but...

Marcia let her hand fall off the knob of the door, staring, memorised, at her sister's form as she levatating above the abstract beddings.

Emily look down at her sister, "I don't know how to!" she said with tears in her eyes... then she noticed Marcia, she took one last long scream and managed to drop herself back onto the bed in a loud thug. she looked up at her sisters and smiled innocently, "I don't know how it happened" she said slowly...

((...))

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Emily looked at her sisters, "Do you think father herd?" she asked her eyes scared as ever.