Entry A-5 “One In A Hundred”


Elise recalled that there have been many nights where Meridian shot up in bed at ungodly hours and did not go back to sleep, often sobbing quietly or whimpering instead. She wondered what sort of unbearably happy dream she must’ve had to warrant this.

Meridian jolted awake. All over again she felt it. There it was. The nightmare. Every time with that nightmare. It was coming and there was nothing she could do. It would only get worse with knowledge.

There was no sanctity; there will be no sanctity. Tears began to pour from her sunken eye sockets. Every night the same nightmare. Every night the same new trauma. Every night it all grew more vivid, more close.

Meridian bolted upright in bed as usual. One in a hundred. One in a hundred. She looked around her, scanning the bed for Elise’s outline. No such shape was found. One hundredth. One in a hundred. One in a hundred. Meridian yearned to breathe but nothing would come. Sweat blanketed the bed almost more than the sheets did. All of them, gone. Ninety-nine each for one to remain. One in a hundred. It’s coming.

Meridian tried desperately to bring tears to her eyes as she gasped. Nothing would come. She pleaded; she prayed. There was no one there to answer her. One in a hundred.

illustration of an angel with a mark above its head. there are light rays beaming from it