NaNoWriMo Update-11/4/2008

As of 11:51 am today I have 4460 words. By the end of today,I should have 6,668.00 words in order to stay on track for 50,000 words by November 30. I'm aiming to complete another 2,208 words in order to get back on track. My plan for tonight is to work on the novel while watching the returns on the presidential election after class tonight.

I've also made several changes to order of the story. I'm trying hard to not make too many because my focus needs to be on word count, not on editting.

Izzy had turbulent dreams that night. She dreamt that she was back in the storm, running against the wind as fast as she could. The wind kept pushing her back. She felt more and more trapped, helpless. She eventually quit running from exhaustion and allowed the wind to sweep her off her feet. She woke up just as she was about to hit the ground.
She sat bolt upright. The candle had burnt out in the middle of the night and the room was completely dark. The clock on the wall had stopped some time ago. Izzy laid flat until her eyes adjusted to the dark. Then she sat up, grabbed the lighter, and relit the candle. The candle gave off a feeble glow of light against the suffocating darkness of the room. But she could see. She picked up the blanket off the floor and pulled it around her, protecting against the dampness of the room. That was some dream! She was still covered in sweat from the exertion. She lies back down and fell deep asleep from exhaustion.
The sun began to rise above the horizon and pour in through the living room window. Izzy slowly opened her eyes, blinking from the bright light. Suddenly, she sat upright, eyes wide, forgetting where she was. She glanced frantically around the room, and, once oriented again, she settled back into the couch.
“Good morning,” said Sarah from her perch on the windowsill. She stood up slowly and floated over to Izzy. “That was some dream you had last night. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Good morning to you too,” Izzy pushed her hair out of her face. “No I don’t want to talk about it. You didn’t sit there all night, did you?” She snapped and rolled away; embarrassed that Sarah had witnessed her nightmares.
•••
Izzy set her backpack on the kitchen table. She pulled out canned food and set them on the table. “Do you have a can opener?” she asked. “I’m starving!” Sarah rummaged through some drawers until she found a can opener. “The electricity has been turned off, I’m afraid. There isn’t any way to heat the food.”
Izzy searched each of the kitchen cabinets looking for cookware. “I suppose I could heat it up over the fireplace. I was in a hurry to leave last night; I wasn’t thinking about food. I grabbed the first available that I found.” Sarah wanted to ask Izzy what happened, why she had run away, but thought maybe she better not. If she started questioning Izzy, she might encourage Izzy to ask questions back, and she was not ready to share her story. Izzy will tell her when she is ready. Izzy dumped a can of ravioli into a saucepan. She carried into the living room, moved the footstool in front of the fireplace and held the pan over the fire. “Hopefully this works,” she mumbled quietly.
After lunch, Sarah offered to show Izzy around the house. In the daylight, the house did not appear as dark and creepy as it did last night. The furniture was old and had obviously been in Sarah’s family for ages. The dark wood floors were covered in dust but were still in good shape. Cobwebs hung from the chandelier in the foyer and clung to the corners of the ceiling. The house had a faint moldy smell and the wallpaper was peeling in several areas. The girls walked up the stairs, Izzy holding on to the wide wood banister as she climbed. Each stair squeaked under Izzy’s weight. Upstairs were several bedrooms. The first bedroom on the right was obviously used as a nursery. The pink paint was peeling in spots and the curtains were moth-eaten. The white wood furniture was covered in dust and moldy in spots.
The next bedroom was once beautifully decorated. The walls were a deep purple with white trim and white furniture. Compared to the rest of the house, this room was less dusty and obviously had been taken care of.
“This room is cleaner than the rest,” Izzy remarked. “Have you been taking care of this room, Sarah?”
Sarah nodded silently. Her eyes were brimming with tears about to overflow down her white cheeks. Oh God, thought Izzy, I never knew that ghosts could cry!
“I like to come in this room sometimes,” Sarah choked out around tears. “It helps when I miss my family.”
Izzy reached out to touch Sarah’s shoulder. Her hand passed through Sarah’s form and brushed only thin air. “I would hug you now if I could, Sarah. It’s okay if you need to cry.”
Sarah sat on the edge of the bed, and began to sob. Her shoulders shook with the force of her sobs. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt. “I died in this room.” She paused and fell back on the bed. She wiped her eyes again and stared at the ceiling. Izzy tiptoed to the bed and sat down softly next to Sarah.
“How did you die, Sarah?” Izzy whispered softly, not out of curiosity, but out of genuine concern.
“I was murdered. I was fifteen years old. I had gone to a girlfriend’s house after school, planning to spend the night. As we were putting our pajamas on and getting ready for bed, I began to feel really sick. I was extremely nauseous, light headed and dizzy. I had to lay down for a bit until the dizziness passed. After a bit, I felt slightly better and decided to go home. More than anything I wanted to sleep in my own bed!
My friend’s mom dropped me off at the end of the driveway. She waved at me as she drove away, leaving me standing on the side of the road. Right away, I could tell that something was wrong, but convinced myself that it was just the dark. It was late fall and it got really dark quite early.
I pushed open the front door and was greeted by an empty house. Or so I thought. The house was deathly still as I climbed the stairs. I peered into my parent’s room which was empty. I was confused about where they might have gone and went back downstairs to call them. I picked up the phone in the kitchen. As I began to dial, I heard a muffled noise. As if someone was trying really hard to be quiet. I heard a thump above my head and a sound like something was being dragged across the floor. I ran upstairs.
As I rounded the corner to enter the upstairs hallway, a man jumped out and grabbed me from behind. He used duct tape to pin my arms and legs together and dragged me into my bedroom. He ripped off my pajamas and raped me multiple times. He held a pillow over my face to muffle my screams; I felt like I was suffocating. I tried to wriggle away but with my hands and legs bound, it was impossible.
Finally, it was over. He took a knife from his pocket and slit my throat. I bled to death on my own bed.
After death, there was a kind of peace. I left my body but was still in the room. I floated above the scene, near the ceiling. There were no bright light, no long dead relatives waiting for me. I watched the man wrap my body in blankets and drag me out of the room. I was watching my murderer, but I was very detached. The pain had gone away.
After he left, I ran to the nursery. My baby sister, Austin, was in her crib, crying. She quit crying when I entered the room. To this day, I swear she saw me. I tried to comfort her but I couldn’t hold her. I talked to her quietly, whispering in her ear that it will be ok. After that, I began searching for my parents in earnest. I ran from room to room, hysterical. I opened and closed closet doors, I looked under beds. Finally I went up to the attic and that is where I found them both. My mother was laying on her back, tied up the same way I was. My father was laying face down. I believe he was shot while trying to protect my mother.
Austin and our bodies weren’t discovered until Monday afternoon. One of my mom’s coworkers came over after my mom didn’t show up to work. The front door was still unlocked so she entered the house and began to look around. I could hear her calling our names, first my mom’s, then my dad’s, and finally mine. The first room she entered on the second floor was the nursery where she discovered Austin, still in her crib, with dirty diapers. She took Austin from her crib, changed her diapers and continued to search. The next room she came across was my bedroom. My dead body was still sprawled across the bed; the comforter was soaked with blood. I still hear her blood curdling scream at night. She ran to the phone in the kitchen and called the police.
The police never did catch my killer. Even to this day, it is unknown as to why he was here, what he was after. Nothing was missing, my mom’s entire jewelry collection, the electronic equipment; all was where it should be.
My murderer is still here somewhere and he will come back. I need to be here when he finally returns to the scene of the crime. I know he will. I just know it.”
Sarah told the story of her death in a cold, distant voice, almost as if she was talking about someone else’s death entirely.
“What happened to your sister?” Izzy gently prodded Sarah to continue. She was definitely curious to know the ending of the story but also genuinely concerned for Sarah. “Do you have any idea of where they have gone?”
Sarah shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t know where to look.”
“My sister was raped and left for dead. My twin, Rebecca.” Izzy blurted out. “I don’t know how to deal with it. She’s in the hospital, dying, and all I can think about is me. I feel so guilty; it should be me lying in that hospital bed right now.”
“Is that what you were running away from? Why you came here?” Sarah asked. “Is she still in the hospital?”
“Yes,” Izzy sobbed. “My parents have been sitting at her bedside for days. I’m sure they haven’t missed me yet. I’m sure no one is looking for me; they probably don’t even know that I am gone.”
“Now that is not true,” admonished Sarah. “Trust me; I’m sure they are absolutely hysterical that they can’t find you. Everyone is looking for you! How could they not? One daughter in the hospital; the other daughter is missing! Izzy, you need to go back! What is your sister wakes up and you’re not there?”
“I can’t go back; please don’t make me,” Izzy sobbed. “Sarah, don’t look at me like that. I can’t deal with the uncertainty of not know if she will survive.”
Sarah looked exasperated. “Izzy, you are being incredibly selfish. You need to return. You might be able to help your sister, Iz.”
“Tomorrow, then, if I must. I’ll go tomorrow. I’m so tired; I need to sleep.” Izzy curled up on the bed. Sarah floated out of the room, leaving Izzy alone on the bed that Sarah had died in.

The nurses in the hospital entered Rebecca’s hospital frequently, checking the machines humming and beeping around her. Her mother was asleep on the floor next to the bed; her father went down to the cafeteria with some family members who had come to visit. The family members updated him on the search for Izzy. There was not much to say; they have called every one of Izzy’s friends looking for her. Each one had said that they had not seen Izzy but they would keep an eye out for her. Each said how sorry they were for what happened to Rebecca, and to pass their condolences on to their parents. The family members decided to leave out that bit of information for the moment. Neither one would be interested to hear that at this moment anyway.
Izzy’s father ate slowly, chasing the food down his dry, scratch throat with large gulps of scalding hot coffee. He didn’t care if he burnt his mouth; what did that matter compared to everything else that has occurred recently. His wife hadn’t slept in days; she finally fell asleep from pure exhaustion. He left her there to sleep and took their visitors to the cafeteria as to not disturb her. Let her sleep, he thought, I’ll never be able to sleep again.
Rebecca’s doctor had informed them that morning that the chances Rebecca would wake up diminished every day that she stayed in a coma. He suggested that they talk to her; that she could hear their voices and might respond to them. He hoped fervently that Izzy was found soon. He knew that if anyone could coax Rebecca out of her coma, it was Izzy. They were twins after all and seemed to share that special connection that twins do.
•••
The automatic doors swung open as Izzy walked through. She approached the front desk and asked which room her sister was in.
“Room two hundred and fifteen,” the receptionist informed her and went back to her private telephone conversation.
Izzy glanced around and spotted the elevator. She pushed the up arrow and waited for the elevator to arrive. She entered the elevator, turned around, and pushed the button for the second floor. The doors closed. “Thank you for coming with me, Sarah,” she said, speaking to what appeared to be air. “I couldn’t do this by myself. I feel better just knowing that you are with me.”
“I’m flattered that you asked me.” The words came from thin air. “Just remember that I am here with you.”
The elevator doors opened and Izzy stepped out. She took a deep breath and began to look for room two hundred and fifteen. She spotted the door and walked down the hallway. She paused, looked around and took a deep breath. Squaring her shoulders, Izzy reached out for the door, turned the knob, and pushed open the door. Her eyes automatically focused on the motionless form of her twin sister lying in the hospital bed. She took in the tubes and medical equipments that were keeping her sister alive. She gasped. The noise caught the attention of both her parents who were sitting together on chairs next to the bed.
Unseen, Sarah entered the room behind Izzy. She took in the same scene that Izzy had just digested. The first thing she noticed was how much Rebecca and Izzy looked like each other. She glanced quickly at Izzy parents as they jumped from their chairs and rushed to Izzy.
Izzy’s mother enveloped her missing daughter in her arms and held her tightly. Her father placed his hand on her head and began to stoke her hair. None of them spoke. Words would not have been able to say everything they had to tell each other. It could wait. They had plenty of time to talk later.
“Izzy, dear,” her mother said, taking her hand. She led Izzy to the side of her sister, and sat her in a chair. “The doctors tell us to talk to her. They said that she can hear us and if we talk to her, she might respond. We’ve tried but we think she might respond to you.”
Izzy leaned over and whispered in Rebecca’s ear. “I’m here,” she said. “I’m here. Please wake up. Please come back to me. I can’t do this without you. I’m so sorry this happened to you.” She sat back in her chair and rested her head in her hands, sobbing. Her mother knelt next to her on the floor and handed Izzy a tissue.
“I’m going to step out side and make a few phone calls. We’ve had so many people looking for you. The cops too. Everyone is so worried. I should let them know that you are ok, you came back on your own.” Her dad stepped outside and closed the door behind him.
Sarah approached the side of Rebecca’s bed. She bent over slowly and peered into Rebecca’s face. She examined it slowly and thoroughly, comparing her face to Izzy’s. She saw a nice girl, quiet, smart, and pretty, much like Izzy. But, most importantly, she saw life. She saw that Rebecca was not dead; her soul was still in her body. Trapped, possibly, wanting to wake up but can’t. She could see it. She could see Rebecca’s soul in her body; she could reach out and touch it. Sarah put out her hand slowly and gently brushed the bright light that made up Rebecca’s spirit. She whispered softly in her ear. The words were inaudible to all but Rebecca. And Rebecca began to stir. Her soul opened up and began to fill Rebecca’s still form with life. Sarah could see the soul moving, flowing, and filling every part of Rebecca with light.
Rebecca slowly moved her fingers and then wiggled her toes. A machine next to her head began to buzz loudly. Izzy and her mother were startled by the sound and jerked up. Her father rushed back in, followed by Rebecca’s nurse. She checked all the vital signs. “I think she might be waking up. Try talking to her.”
Izzy leaned forward and started to talk to Rebecca. She told her where she has been for the past several days. She told her about meeting Sarah, leaving out the part of her being a ghost. Her parents told her about all the visitors she’s had and about everyone who has asked about her. Rebecca blinked her eyes in response and slowly opened them against the bright light. Her eyes have been closed for almost a week now, and it took them awhile to adjust to the light.