TITLE: Thunderbird Dreams
GENRE: MG Historical Fantasy
Pretending to be someone else every day made it possible for me to forget me, Crystal Miller. But at night, in my dreams, there is no running away. I shudder even though I'm covered with a quilt and laying next to my two sisters. Bethany snores from her place on the inside of the bed. Megan lay in the middle, clutching her teddy bear. Maybe I won't dream if I think of nothing before falling asleep. I close my eyes. Nothing, think of nothing. Don't think.
My eyes pop open. Did someone call my name? Or is it my nightmares looking for me? I hold my breath and wait.
A high-pitched wail makes goosebumps rise on my arms.
"Did you hear that?" My whisper sounds like a shout in the silence of our new house.
"Just a coyote, Crystal," Bethany mutters and rolls over, taking the quilt with her. Megan doesn't even stir.
That was not a coyote. I've been here almost a week now, I know the difference.
I grab my lucky Indian pottery piece from under my pillow and slip out of bed. I peek out the window. The only thing I can see is a dusty hill dotted with sagebrush and the lopsided outhouse we share with our neighbor. I listen at the bedroom door. The house is quiet. I guess Joe and Dad didn't hear it either.
Slowly I open the bedroom door. Moonlight seeps through the closed shutters at the end of the hall. I tiptoe toward the window.