Sleep No More. Aprilynne Pike

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      It’s all over the news the next morning.

      Her body is covered with a white drape, and the reporter is rambling on about her injuries, but even his gruesome descriptions can’t compare to the actual sight. The one I saw only yesterday.

      Mom’s hand is clenched around a mug of coffee, but she hasn’t lifted it to her mouth since she turned the television on ten minutes ago. “Who could do this?” she finally whispers after what feels like hours.

      Unfortunately, despite the vision, that’s a question I can’t answer. Visions are fickle that way—sometimes they give you the important information, and sometimes they simply … don’t.

      Sierra walks into the noticeably tense kitchen. “What’s going on?” she asks, looking between Mom and me and not seeming to notice that the TV is on despite its high volume. She’s like that, totally unaware of some things while being hyperaware of others. Probably because she’s constantly on guard for visions.

      I guess I’ll be like that someday too.

      “A teenage girl was killed at the high school last night,” Mom whispers, still staring horrified at the television. “Throat sliced right open.”

      Sierra’s head swings to me and she stares with questions shining in her eyes. I feel like I did when I was six. I don’t know how she knew then, but she did.

      And she knows now.

      Her expression evokes the same awful guilt, even though this time I did nothing. Which makes me feel even more guilty.

      Sierra fills her coffee cup with marked carefulness. She begins to leave the kitchen, but just before she disappears around the doorway she flicks her head, gesturing for me to join her.

      I stall. I’ve got about five bites of now-soggy cereal in the bottom of my bowl, and I lift them to my mouth slowly. But I can’t put it off long—I have to leave for school soon.

      Sierra is waiting for me just outside her bedroom door. “This is why you were asking questions yesterday, isn’t it?”

      There’s no point in denying it.

      “You didn’t tell me you actually saw it. I assumed you fought.” Even though her voice is soft, I can tell she’s angry. Angry that I didn’t confide in her? Maybe.

      “I did fight!” To my dismay, tears are starting to build up in my eyes. I didn’t expect it to actually happen so soon. I wasn’t ready. “I fought so hard,” I continue, pleading now. “It was different from anything I’ve ever experienced before. I couldn’t stop it.”

      She stares at me for a long time, but then her eyes soften and she simply says, “I wish you’d told me.”

      “Why?” I shoot back. Not mad exactly, but very helpless. “So you could do something?” Her jaw tightens but I continue. “What good would it have done to tell you?”

      Sierra looks down the hall toward the kitchen where I can hear the news continuing about the murder. She steps close and lays a hand on my shoulder. “Charlotte, the life of an Oracle is very solitary; we’re lucky to have each other. Please don’t push me away because I have high expectations of you. I don’t think you failed—these things happen. But that means it’s time to be even more vigilant.”

      Her steady gaze makes me weirdly nervous and I pull out my phone and light up the clock on my home screen. “I gotta go.”

      After getting dressed, I walk into the kitchen and pick up my set of house keys from the basket beside the back door. Surprisingly the soft jingle is what finally distracts Mom from the gruesome scene on the screen. “Where are you going?” she says in a rather irritated tone.

      I blink at her, confused. “School?”

      Her hair looks almost wild around her face as she shakes her head. “You can’t go to school today.”