Dakota
Lights along the corridors of the old church are flickering.
On.
Off.
On.
There’s a man hurrying down the stone hallway. It feels cold, damp, and an earthy smell that causes me to gag from where I stand.
I know I’m asleep, this has to be a dream. Yet why does it feel familiar? As if I recognize this place, and this man. Yet I don’t recall having ever met him, nor can I see what he’s carrying in his arms. It looks like a person, but I could be wrong.
Off.
On.
Spying him from a distance, he’s a dark silhouette against the flickering lights; but he’s older than a teenager. He has to be in his mid-twenties to early thirties.
My body angles to the right as I stand in an outlined doorway, able to see through a transparent wall. As if somehow the dream is telling me that I need to see this. That I need to find the man, to tell him what is happening or what might happen to him in the near future.
Off.
On.
Two older women are chanting loudly in a foreign language I’ve never heard before. Their voices in unison are echoing off of the otherwise empty corridor. They hold up their arms, hands glowing red against the dark, lighting up the profile of the man.
His face turns, his dark eyes wide as he stumbles forward. His head whipping back to face forward as he loses his grip on whatever he’s holding. He calls for a name that seems to blur out like a faded song.
Another woman is racing down the corridor, her hands glowing a vibrant green behind the other two women. Her voice is louder, but she’s shouting the man’s name. “Maximilian!”
I jerk awake with a start, sitting up gasping for breath.
The dream always feel so colorful, so real.
Sweat beads against my brow and I have to wrestle the sticky sheets away from my body.
My gaze lands on the closed door. I take several deep breaths, shutting my eyes against the migraine that normally accompanies the dream.
Every night, for the past several months, the same dream haunts my subconscious. Tomorrow, is the first time that I will have finally found the man that has been plaguing my dreams— I need to warn him, if I don’t, I feel as if something terrible is going to happen to him— and to me.
“We have a new student joining us, let’s give a big welcome to our new sister; Dakota Mitchell.”
The center of attention is solely focused on me and let’s be real— I’ve never been one for the spotlight and with the last couple of years this ought to be a walk in the park to what I’ve had to deal with— yet it’s been getting worst lately.
The attention, the spotlight, the pressure, it’s all building up and one day I’m going to explode.
Only eighteen, and I’ve already been to multiple schools—public and private across the United States.
I hate it and this private Catholic church is all that’s left to me.
But it’s where my search ends. Because I’ve found him— the man whose been plaguing my mind for the past couple of years now. I needed to find him and now I have.
I blink several times as the applauding stops and I take a seat near the back of the classroom. My ears feel warm. I try to sink lower in my seat. Immediately as the bell signals for homeroom to begin, four students have all but swarmed near my chair.
Three girls and one boy. I ought to be impressed that they’ve already spouted off their names, but they’re all a blur. I’m not here to socialize or make friends— all I want is to find the man, because he’s all that matters at this moment in time, nothing else.
“Hi!” A perky brunette is all but waving a hand across my face.
I blink again and give what I hope is an awkward smile.
But to be fair, I’m not really interested.
“I’m Faith, this is Kendra,” she’s nudging a dark haired girl to her left, “Gertrude,” she nods her chin to her right where a redhead stands, “And this is Alexander.”
“Alex, I prefer Alex.” He says with a sheepish grin.
“Nice to meet you,” I mutter, although I wish the ground would swallow me hole.
They all gather chairs to scoot closer to me, as if I really want to deal with them. Preferably I wish to be alone, but I don’t exactly have the heart to tell them that. I’m not rude on a daily basis, even if they’re all beginning to annoy me.
“So, where are you from?” Gertrude asks, tossing her hair over her shoulder. She’s got freckles dotted across her nose and cheeks.
“Uh…” I don’t exactly enjoy talking about myself and having them already wanting to know something about me is making this difficult. “Here and there.”
“Military family?” Alex asks and I nod, just to be on the safe side.
No reason to tell him the truth…that my family shipped me off to live here, that it was either find a new school or be put into an institute— you can guess which option I chose.
“Ah. That must suck.” Alex has pretty brown eyes, but I hope he doesn’t get the wrong idea. I’m not here to have a relationship and the sooner he gets the hint, all the better.
Kendra is the quiet one out of the four of them.
They’ve talked about music, books, hobbies— all in the span of twenty minutes before the bell signals for first period.
Kendra is the first to stand, flashes me a weak smile, before darting out of the classroom.
So far, she’s my favorite person I’ve met this morning.
Faith and Gertrude stand by my chair as I hoist a bag over my shoulder, arching a blonde eyebrow at them. Alex is heading out of the room as the girls wait for me expectantly. Seems like I won’t be able to shake them as easily as I’d originally hoped too.
“Who do you have for first period?” Faith asks, gesturing to the sheet in my tight grip.
Looking down, my breathing hitches slightly as I stare at the name of the teacher. English Lit-1st period: Mr. Maximilian Daniels.
“Ooh, she’s got Mr. Daniels!” Gertrude says with a clap of her hands after scanning the sheet over my shoulder.
Faith smiles when I look up at them. “Don’t worry, he’s an easy teacher. Strict, but he’s easy on the eyes for sure.”
Gertrude nods in agreement. “His voice is so hot, especially when he reads passages from Scripture. Makes me all flustered.” She fans herself and they both giggle.
I frown as I trail behind them as we leave the classroom.
I don’t really know what to say, I’m not here to make googly-eyes at a teacher, I’m here to warn him. If I don’t, something bad is going to happen to him. I’m just not sure what exactly.
Mr. Daniels isn’t in the classroom when I walk in behind Faith and Gertrude. They pick the front row desks, each sitting down and pulling out notebooks and writing utensils. I hesitate by the open doorway, wondering where I should be sitting.
After all, the faster I can tell him about the reoccurring dream I’ve been having with him in it, the faster I can leave this school.
“Is there a problem, Ms. Mitchell?” A voice speaks up and I start, turning abruptly to the right, my eyes landing on a very physique and broad shouldered man.
I can’t help but to stare at him, unable to speak, my tongue curling inside my mouth.
Mr. Maximilian Daniels cannot be defined as ‘hot’ as Gertrude and Faith labeled him, if anything he’s… otherworldly beautiful.
His black eyes seem to stare into the depths of my soul. He’s regarding me curiously but arching a dark eyebrow, his lips curving slightly upward into a smile. “Ms. Mitchell is there something you wished to discuss before the class?”
I open my mouth, then snap it shut. Giving a slight shake of my head, I turn, hurriedly toward the first open desk I see. I’m tripping over my feet as laughter echoes in the room. Embarrassed I take a seat, fumbling for the notebook and pen in my bag.
Mr. Daniels is already moving to the center of the room and begins by telling us about a Revelations passage from Scripture.
In my mind, I’m too busy wondering about how to bring up the dream to Mr. Daniels, that I don’t even notice when my name is being called.
Slightly alarmed, I sit up straighter in my seat. “Yes?” I croak out.
Mr. Daniels is giving me an almost sour expression, nothing close to the smile he gave me at the start of the class. “Care to give any thoughts about the passage we just read?”
“Uh…” I can feel my cheeks growing hot. Glancing at the girls for help, both have their bibles opened toward the end of the book and I can feel all eyes from my classmates on me. “Sorry, I don’t.” I mumble.
“Where’s your bible?” Mr. Daniels question causes my gaze to meet his and then I quickly look away first.
“Never had one before.”
Footstep’s sound and then he’s standing in front of me, putting his own bible down on top of the desk. When I tilt my head to look up at him, he’s giving me a soft smile that causes his eyes to crinkle at the sides. “That’s all right. You can use mine until we can get you a proper new one.”
Faith and Gertrude are making cooing noises off to my right which I try to ignore as Mr. Daniels takes a step away from my desk and turns to address the class once more.
Staring down at the bible, I can’t help but to notice that the pages are well worn and highlighted, written in small, neat handwriting on the pages. A very well used and beloved bible no doubt.
“Ms. Mitchell, can you read Revelations chapter twenty-two, verse eleven aloud please.”
I swallow hard and have to flip through a couple of pages of the Holy Word before I locate the passage of Scripture.
“‘He that is unjust, let him be unjust still: and he which is filthy, let him be filthy still: and he that is righteous, let him be righteous still: and he that is holy, let him be holy still’.”
“Thank you.” Mr. Daniels give the barest of nods when I look up at him.
I’m feeling hot all over and it’s not just his voice alone.
But everything about him seems mysterious, alluring, as if he’s not from this world.
“Now, who can tell me what John was writing about in this particular passage? There’s no right or wrong answer here. This is merely a discussion after all.”
Faith is the one that speaks up first. “Filthy could mean filthy rich. It doesn’t say dirty or stinky.”
“Why do you suppose that is Faith?”
Faith shrugs her shoulders at Mr. Daniels question. “I’m not sure. Filthy can be interpreted in different days.”
Gertrude raises her hand. “Unjust and just could be talking about those that have been put in prison for doing wrongful things. And those that haven’t been sent to jail for their crimes need to be brought to justice.”
“Interesting theory, Ms. Plains.” Mr. Daniels gives the redhead a smile and she all but sighs loudly.
Some other students suggest different things, but I only lean back into my chair.
I’m not sure what I think of the passage. I’ve never read the bible before, and I feel like no matter the answer it won’t live up to the teacher’s expectations.
“Ms. Mitchell, care to comment?”
Turning my head, I stare at the teacher.
I guess I didn’t realize I’d made a noise under my breath and somehow he’d heard it. What does he have, bat ears?
“Um…” I look down at the passage once more and read the verse over. “Maybe the guy is talking about how we’re all going to be divided.”
“Divided? Care to elaborate on that thought?” Mr. Daniels has inched closer to me.
My heartrate increases a tad; he’s making me nervous. Palms on my thighs, I rub them against the uniform skirt I have to wear as part of the dress-code.
“Well…” I trail off as I try to think. “I’m under the impression that what he’s telling is that everyone is divided like in sections or departments. The holy remain pure and innocent. The just and unjust—”
“So, you feel that those that are not pure are evil?” Mr. Daniels comment makes me frown immediately.
“No! I didn’t say that.”
“You implied it nonetheless,” Mr. Daniels said and then the bell signaled for second period.
I sit back in my seat even as students gather up their things and head out. Faith and Gertrude stop in the doorway to the classroom, glancing over their shoulders even as I give them a brief wave to go on without me.
“Ms. Mitchell,”
I’m clambering slowly to my feet, shoving the notebook and pen into my bag, leaving the bible untouched and open on the desk.
“You did well today, during the discussion.”
“Not much of a discussion,” I mutter under my breath.
“Participation often is the key to success.” Mr. Daniels says as he comes to stand beside me, grabbing the bible carefully within his grasp. I turn to look up at him, my pulse flutters when I catch him staring down at me. A smile curves his lips. “I apologize if I made you uncomfortable.”
“Only somewhat uncomfortable. Nothing I can’t handle,” I say, although for whatever reason I can’t seem to breathe properly with how close he’s standing.
His dark eyes seem to be overlooking me.
We’re the only two in the classroom and somehow I find it makes it worse for us to be this close in proximity to one another.
“I can see that. In any case, I’ll try not to make you uncomfortable in the near future.” He turns to set the bible on his desk. With his back to me, I have to shake my head and clear away any unbidden thoughts I might be experiencing.
“Mr. Daniels…” I trail off, the dream coming to my mind. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
His shoulders stiffen as he remains with his back facing me. “Oh?”
“I’ve been having a reoccurring dream for several years now. And…”
Why am I having such a hard time spitting out the words? I swear I’ve rehearsed these lines so often that I know them by heart.
“…and it involves you. Somehow.”
“Ms. Mitchell,” he turns, and his gaze has turned from black to ringed with silver. Beautiful but alarming. “I appreciate the sentiment that you find me attractive. But you should know that you are a minor and I am your teacher.”
“No that’s not what I—”
He cuts me off with a raised hand. “I suggest you head to your next class, before the teacher marks you tardy.”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I head out of the classroom, stifling the urge to scream at the top of my lungs.
I don’t know why Mr. Daniels won’t listen to me, but he has to know about my dream! Why else would I be here?