Silverside Academy

Looking Back

Eilidh watched as some kind of beast ran through the woods. It almost looked like a puppy.

Almost.

Low hanging twigs and brush whipped against the creature as its paws pounded against the leaf-littered forest floor. Its tiny, hairy body moved quickly, its fur singed and smokey.

Just as suddenly as the dream began, it changed. Her perspective shifted from watching to being.

It wasn't her first time dreaming of the woods. But this time, it was different. She couldn’t exactly say what but…

Something was wrong. Ugly.

Tall trees blotted out whatever sliver of light the moon might’ve provided.

The dark had never bothered her before.

Scents carried frightful news her way: death, fire, and fear. A tinny, sour mixture that left her shaken to her core.

She wasn’t sure where she was going, only that she had to get away.

Her feet - paws - thundered against the ground. But just as it seemed she might escape whatever she was fleeing, an impossibly tall, thick tree came crashing down right in front of her.

The ground around her trembled and shook beneath its mighty weight. And the c***k, thwack-thunk was so loud she was certain her ears might bleed.

She skidded to a halt, slipping on the leaves that had once brought her such happiness. For a heart-stopping moment, she thought she would crash head-first into the rough bark.

She squeezed her eyes shut tight, unable to face anything else.

A snapping in the distance made her eyes fly open again. She was only inches from the trunk.

A quick, sharp yipe escaped her mouth, though she did her best to quell it.

They’ll get me! She thought wildly, even as her waking mind tried to ask, ‘who’.

A hand, big and strong, grabbed her by her scruff, sending a deluge of horror through her veins.

The fear that had been building up inside spilled over, and she cried out.

Eilidh woke up from the same old nightmare with clammy skin and trembling fingers. For a crazy, tired moment, she wondered where she was.

The dream had seemed so real.

Then her eyes adjusted to the dark, and the familiar sight of her room greeted her.

She breathed out a sigh of relief and relaxed against her pillow.

It’s just a stupid dream. Maybe it was. But it was one that had plagued her for as long she could remember.

She turned onto her side, trying to get more comfortable. But it was an action she quickly regretted.

Her laptop sat open beside her. Its dark screen reflected her outline, almost mocking.

Rage and sorrow bubbled in her.

What the hell am I supposed to do, Dad? She wondered, closing the laptop with frustration.

She flopped onto her other side, turning her back on the laptop and her problems. In spite of her recent nightmare, she just wanted to get back to sleep and forget the world.

But the late night sounds of crickets and the buzzing electric hum of street lamps bore into her ears, making it seem impossible.

She groaned angrily and grabbed the pillow from underneath her. She put it on top of her head and pressed one hand against it, trying to blot out the sounds.

I just want to sleep. The thought beat a tattoo in her mind. I just want to go back to sleep, then wake up from the nightmare my life has become.

She wasn’t sure how long she laid there like that, but as she finally started to drift off to dreamland, she began to wonder at what point her life had become so hectic.

When she was little, her life seemed perfect.

She had her dad, her mom, a comfortable house, and plenty of friends. Things were easy, and predictable. Her little family indulged in stereotypical Suburbia things like Taco Tuesday and Pizza Friday. They kept to a schedule: work for her parents, school for her, movies on Saturdays, and church on Sundays.

The passage of time seemed to be measured by happy memories and markers.

Typical milestones like riding her bike without training wheels, going to her first sleepover, even getting her own tablet; all the normal tickers for childhood.

To some, it might have seemed like a small life. But to her it was good, and meaningful. Perfect.

Then everything changed.

When Eilidh was 7, her father died.

It was a sudden, unexpected thing. And so stupid. So avoidable.

Her mother had come home with a ton of groceries, but when Jared went out to help bring them in, he never made it back inside.

As she thought about it, her memories turned to dreams and she relieved the worst day of her life.

“Sounds like your momma’s home, Eilidh.” Jared leaned over the board game they were playing and ruffled her long, bright auburn hair. He was a large man, tall and wide. A wall of muscles with a big smile. Her mother always called him a bear of a man, but a teddy bear.

He brushed his fashionably shaggy brown hair out of his face, and Eilidh saw his dark blue eyes, like ocean depths. They sparkled as he looked at her.

She tried to perk up her ears, but she couldn’t hear anything that sounded like her mom’s car. Just the T.V. But then she glanced towards the big windows that lined the lawn-side of the living room. Sure enough, she saw car lights dart across them as her mother pulled into their driveway.

“Wow, Dad!” She giggled and clapped. “How do you always know?”

Chuckling, he shrugged and said, “I’m just a good guesser is all.” He flashed a smile at his daughter, then added, “And I guess you win this time. I gotta help Momma bring everything in.”

Eilidh furrowed her eyebrows. She hated whenever he would just stop in the middle of a game like that. It felt like cheating for him to give her the win. “But, Dad,” she gestured one of her small hands towards the game. She’d clearly been losing. “I wanna beat you for real.”

But Jared was already standing up.

He made a show of stretching, first one arm over his head, then the other. Leaning into the gimmick, he popped his back. Then, with a mischievous look on his face, he did a couple of squats before he pretended to swim towards the front door.

Despite her annoyance, Eilidh laughed.

What was it about dads? They always had a way of making their daughters laugh no matter how mad their little girls might be.

“Seriously,” he added as he reached for the doorknob. “I forfeit. But I promise to challenge you for the title of best board gamer after dinner, okay? Then you can show me how tough you are. Let loose.”

Even in her sleep, guilt nettled her. A tear slipped down her cheek, soaking into the sheet below. I should have stopped him, she thought. I should have insisted he stay and play with me.

Before he could open the door, her mother knocked.

“You move quick,” Jared’s tone shifted from playful to flirty as he opened the door for her.

Janet shook her head and laughed. “Honey, stop.” The purr of her words left the demand hollow. “I need help - there’s still like 4 packs of water in the trunk.”

Eilidh let her anger lay forgotten, along with the board game. She ran up to her mother, hugging her around the middle. Then she glanced up, a pleading sparkle in her deep green eyes. “And the sodas?” She eyed the bags her mother had dropped off on the porch.

Janet smiled, her lovely brown eyes crinkling just a little. The porch light bounced off of her glossy, dark hair so that it looked like she had a halo.

In that moment, Eilidh thought her mother looked like a model.

Scrunching her nose playfully, Janet said, “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, huh? Here,” she gestured for her daughter to grab some of the bags around her feet. “Help me carry some of this in.”

Knowing if she took too long she’d miss the real show, Eilidh quickly obliged.

Her dad was strong. Super strong.

She always thought that he might be able to pick up a whole car if he really wanted to. Sometimes she knew it was silly, and other times… She really believed it.

Regardless, she loved watching him carry in stacks of waters like they were nothing.

And he never, ever dropped even a single one.

With that in mind, she quickly tossed her few bags onto the kitchen counter.

Janet clucked her tongue, but couldn’t stop the smile that curled her lips. Instead, she righted the bags and began rustling through them. Eilidh rushed back to the window.

Sure enough, her father had 4, 40-count packs stacked on the ground. When he reemerged from the hatchback’s trunk, he had not one, but two packs of soda.

He added them to the stack of waters, then squatted down and picked them up in one fluid motion.

Even though she’d seen him do it a hundred times, it never stopped being cool.

But… that’s when all sense of normalcy stopped for her.