~Carmen~
I couldn't believe how real the dream felt: the ocean, washing over my skin; the sun pouring heat over my head; the seaweed tickling my feet. It felt más of reality in the dream than in the actual descripción of life, which scared me like hell. The vividness was choking my senses alive, but I was able to hear the cry in the background; yes, very angelic and begging me to come closer, to ease the pain. I tried turning, but my body willingly ignored me, and I flailed about desperately.
And then I saw him.
The black capucha, campana wrapped around him like a religious cloak, twirling farther down to his waist and ending to just faintly brush the ocean waves dipped under his bare feet. He stood on parte superior, arriba of the water, dark red eyes staring at me from the inky blackness that fluttered in that grave hole. A scythe was in his hand, the metal glinting at me. Slowly, he started a walk towards me.
I struggled, writhed; but it did me no good. He moved as if he owned everything, and whether o not I desperately moved to be free, he was in charge. He took his grand time reaching me, stopping inches away to kneel down. Those red eyes tempted me, peered into my soul and converted me.
I breathed lightly, my corazón beating too fast to count, my head spinning as the parte superior, arriba of a child's toy would; fast, frightening. His face was getting too close, too close, hurting, suffocating...
Cold, dead lips met mine.
Everything stopped.

I woke.
The sun blinded me through the window, mostrando me the light it could produce. I angrily stomped over there to pull the curtain away, then trotted to my cama and stuffed myself under the covers again. I shut my eyes.
And then the damn alarm clock went off.
I growled, tearing the covers off once más and slapping the alarm clock on the top, pressing the button deeply down. I heard the machine make a small click, something it never did before, and I groaned.
"Another clock. Just great."
I got up, stretching like the marvelous cat I was in the morning, and rubbed my eyes. I staggered over to the bathroom, opening the door. I screamed.
"Jesus, Sam, you'd think that you'd knock sometime, o let me know you're here!"
Sam stood there, shamelessly holding a razorblade full of shaving cream before me. He still had half of his face to go. "Sorry. Brothers are like that, tu know."
"And tu know how sisters are. Now get out!" I pointed towards the door, glaring at him. He shrugged, continuing.
"How the hell did tu get in here, anyhow?"
"I took the subway, went for a little walk, had some food---"
"Be sensible, jerk." I mumbled at him, sitting myself on my bed, toying with the covers.
"You left the door unlocked."
I frowned. "No I didn't."
He turned to me and nodded, scraping some más of the cream off. "Yeah, tu did."
"I swear to God I didn't. The key is---" I ran to my drawers, opening the first one. I pulled the key out from under the socks, mostrando him the small piece of gold. "See? I put it here when I was done locking."
"How do tu know that it wasn't there to begin with? That tu left it there yesterday?" He looked away to watch his reflection in the mirror.
"Because, stupid, I'm not as dumb as you." I placed the key back into its rightful spot, then faced him. "Go to Simon's place and shave all tu want there, but I don't want you're hair in my sink. You're already making me late as it is." I started to buscar for a pain of jeans and a t-shirt.
"Yeah, yeah. And until tu get a guard dog, I'm going to be staying here for a few days. Mom dicho so."
"Mom can go shove it up her---"
"Be nice." He warned, giving me a look while he rinsed off the blade.
"Who's in charge here again?"
"Doesn't matter. You're nature, as it is, will get tu into trouble." He threw the blade in the garbage, yawned, then leaned against the sink and watched me, bored.
"And what does that make you? Someone with higher knowledge? We have the same parents, tu know." I stated sarcastically, grabbing my bag.
"Oh yeah. I totally forgot. I'm just the idiotic friend who has some sort of amor connection to tu in being able to come every morning and shave the hair---"
"Shut up and get your bag." I shot at him, letting that fake-ass grin stay on all the way to school.