Authors: Kathy-Lynn Cross
“No way, I’m ready for some
zzzs
. Just a quick call. Besides, I took a sleeping pill. How long do you think I will be able to stay awake?”
Her face had skepticism written all over it. “You have perfected the phrase
if there’s a will, there is a way
, daughter.”
“I wasn’t aware that phrase ended with the word, daughter,” I said, mimicking her facial expression.
We laughed and finished saying our good nights. As soon as she shut the door, I pressed the number three on the speed dial. It rang only twice when I heard a yawn come over the line.
Was it that late?
Through another yawn, she scolded me, “Do you know what time it is? I thought you were taking a shower not going to the spa.” I heard her blankets and sheets crinkle and scrape across the receiver.
“Sorry, but I wasn’t exactly having the time of my evening either.”
“Isn’t that, ‘time of your life’?”
“I don’t think that far in advance anymore, not that I ever did.”
Mindless chitchat out of the way, she plunged into our plans for tomorrow. “So, we are meeting Dee around nine o’clock for breakfast. Is eight early enough to help you get ready? Her shift starts at eleven, but she wants to leave around ten thirty. What time do you have to be at work tomorrow? I forgot.” Her voice caught when she tried to suck in air at the same time.
“Sure, eight o’clock is fine. I already have my work smock and a change of shoes by the bed. My shift doesn’t start until three, but Mr. Sipton said I can hang out in the break room until then. Uh, Blake…?” I still didn’t want to talk about this subject, but with the day looming, I needed a friend. “My mom told me about the funeral.”
“I was wondering if you were going or not. You know me. I didn’t want to press.” I blew out the air I had held waiting for her answer.
She gets me.
“Yeah, I need to go. There’s something I have to do.” I looked at my closet. In a hospital bag sitting on the floor were the clothes I was wearing that night. An item of Tod’s needed to be returned to him. I didn’t have the right to keep it after what I’d done to him.
“Well, what time is it? I need to make sure I’m free. Isn’t your mom going with you anyway?”
“I don’t know if she can come or not, and I really haven’t given her the opportunity to talk about it.” Several emotions from earlier that night seemed to make their way into our conversation as I explained how Rae-Lynn was treating me. I was fed up with the routine, and it was past time to reconstruct my emotional barrier.
Clunk.
First brick down.
“Blakely, if you can’t make it, I understand. And don’t try to shuffle your shift around. You have done so much for me. It’s really wrong for me to ask more of you. Forget it, I’ll be okay. Besides, I’m sure my mom is trying to clear her schedule for that day.” A sigh turned into a yawn. The meds were kicking in.
Woohoo
. Sleep might find me soon. I sank into the pillows. “It’s this Wednesday at six o’clock.”
“I’ll talk it over with Stanley and see if he can spare me. They are cutting back. Even though I need the money for gas, he’ll probably agree to give me the night off. He’s cool like that, you know.” Her words drifted off in a yawn, adding to my own struggle to stay focused.
So, even though I wasn’t talking backward yet, we needed to end our call or tomorrow she’ll be a Gigi. I snickered at my own joke. “You need sleep, and your waves of slumber are pulling me under with you. So, I’ll talk tomorrow with you, and night. Okay?” Too late, the tongue muscle was working in reverse, and I thought she might be snoring into the receiver.
I raised my voice. “Night, Blakely—”
Right after I said it, I thought a shadow zipped from one corner of the room through the open closet door. I blinked to refocus on it. I suddenly felt heavy, and every digit melted to the cell. No, I wasn’t going to allow this crap to start up again. “Blakely, are you awake? Are you still there?” I made a small prayer of hope she was still on the other end.
A hard huff came through the phone. “Yeah, I’m still here. But, Lex-Cee, I really need to go. Oh, gross. The speaker and pillow are wet. What did I spill?”
I didn’t have the heart right then to tell her the obvious. While I listened to her moving things around for the imaginary glass of liquid, I focused on the closest ceiling star and counted backward. A breeze skittered over my arm setting off the little alarm hairs. Something was different and I was aware of the change.
Scanning slowly around the room, I came to the conclusion it had to be the medicine. It made sense, the heaviness, seeing things that weren’t there. After I had taken about a minute to convince myself it was nothing, I said goodbye again to Blakely. “I’ll see you in the morning. Just use your key. Rae-Lynn will be gone by six, I think.”
“Huh, oh, yeah, okays. See you.”
My cell went silent.
I slid the cover over and placed it back on the nightstand. The plan was to count the glow-in-the-dark stars to fall asleep, but I needed to find a new method of relaxation. Maybe if I envisioned a fairy tale meadow, where I could lie down to count the sheep jumping over a wooden fence, and then watch them land in a mud puddle. The grin sliding in place was playfully evil as I pulled the sheet up to my chin, holding a breath and glancing around the room, carefully avoiding the open closet. The air around the bed felt colder than normal. Warm breath lightly feathered between my lips. Heart racing, my blood felt thick and heavy in my chest. Stealing myself, I stared into the black void and felt someone or something staring right back.
With a quivering breath, I spoke to the emptiness. “What do you want from me? What is our connection? Why are you here?” I narrowed my vision and in the darkness I saw two pinpoints of glowing indigo at the back of the closet. An inky mist slithered up the sides of the doorway and over the floor in front. A faint growl made me seize. I wasn’t asleep, but logic was screaming nightmare. Within a few moments, I mustered enough courage to speak. That was when the shadow moved past the door and toward the window. Its movement was so fast, I didn’t even get the chance to fully blink. Simply gone. The inward laugh resembled a movie trailer where the main character is headed for a crazy house.
The room became warmer and the heavy feeling lifted. A tiny sob slipped out while I pulled the covers tightly over my head.
Please. I chanted silently… do not dream… do not dream
. Willing myself to relax, I became the shepherd searching for sheep to count before the shadows came back to eat them.
Mr. Depression was no longer an acquaintance of mine. Positioning its presence on the edge of my bed, it filled my inner ear with emotional, crushing justification to support my grief-infested heart. Singing lullabies in the darkness, sobering hits titled: “You Shouldn’t Be Here, It’s Your Fault,” and my favorite, “Death Should Have Taken You.” When Mr. Depression was no longer able to console me, it would linger around the corners of my room, waiting for my sobs to cease. As my tears turned to ice, Miss. Numbness moved in and pushed my new friend away. I wanted our visit to last a little longer, but sadly it had business elsewhere.
~Alexcia
Sunday:
Work wasn’t the sweet return I had hoped for. I was looking forward to getting out of the house, to see new and old faces in the café, but I wasn’t thinking about how they would interact with me. Different voices penetrated through guarded thoughts during my entire shift, bombarded by so many variations of the same questions. The situation was driving me insane.
It started when some of the students from CMHS made eye contact with me. The group came over and started pressing for more information.
What had I seen? What it was like? How I was dealing with it now?
Even the regulars cornered me while I picked up empty coffee cups and wiped down tables. The weight of my answers tired me out, so I asked Mr. Sipton if I could rest in the back room.
I carried my cup of Choca-Dunk to the back and realized there was no escape because my co-workers were also reciting from the same playbook,
Interrogations for Dummies
. And it didn’t stop there; the questions followed me after I clocked out. As I stood outside, some of the late night bean fiends approached me while I waited for Blakely. One by one, they came over to give me a hug or express their fill-in-the-blank condolences, instead of goodbyes.
All the explaining wore me out, and I didn’t say a word to Blakely after she helped me into the car. She seemed tired too and accompanied me on our road to solitude. After she had parked the Lady, Blake turned to me and muttered something about helping me to the front door before heading home.
Without a word, we both hobbled toward the brick steps as I attempted to multitask by digging out the front door key and trying not to trip over her plaid, Sanuk shoes. Blakely swung open the door and yelled, “Jello,” instead of hello, declaring her chauffeuring shift was over.
She turned to leave and I mumbled, “Thanks for the help and the ride.” After the hand-off, Rae-Lynn helped me up to my tomb.
Different stabs of pain hit me all at the same time. My right knee was burning… I assumed from being on it for too long. On the same side, my wrist throbbed from table duties and even my mouth had joined in the fun, giving me a headache. This was the one and only time I would admit I had used it too much.
Struggling up the stairs was exhausting even with Mom handling most of our weight. She must have also felt my vibe because we moved together in an awkward step-clomp silence. At the top of the stairs, I carefully twisted away from her and hopped over the threshold. Using the doorknob to steady myself, I waved, in a nonchalant manner and mumbled, “Goodnight.” Then I closed and locked the door. Not long after I settled into bed and relaxed, the nightmares welcomed me home with their choking embrace.
Monday:
Ghost was supposed to pick me up this morning, but he was still MIA, which helped me make a very important decision. I was staying home. It was my only choice anyway because Mom had a morning meeting she couldn’t rearrange or cancel. I really wasn’t in the mood to be around the herds of sheep at school. All walks of life had tortured me enough for one day.
For the last few days he wouldn’t return my calls to at least confirm, so I assumed he had dissed me. I had left about five messages yesterday, each one ending with a: (>.<), :P, :$, @,@, oh and lastly, (SCRW U). With no plans to beg for his attention, I knew he couldn’t avoid me forever. The inevitable fight was coming soon. Thinking about it made me salivate for a taste of the first word I would use. Regrettably, my heart remained silent, causing me to reevaluate his peculiar actions from our last meeting. I couldn’t get over how well he mixed his words of unsettling remorse with sprinkles of biting anger, although the emotional replay between us was a bit perplexing.
Every time I replayed the conversation, the more my mood slipped gears. First was my grinding anger. Second, would ease into blame. Third, was holding up confusion steadily. Fourth, found me cruising along with sadness. Fifth, would stick, and then I would find myself popped back into first gear again. Reverse was broken because I refused to be the one to apologize for who I was before the accident or for the person I had become. Besides being a little bruised and broken, I thought I was pretty much the same… sane by day… crazy by night.
Watching the thin sunlight stream in, inch by inch across the carpet, was the only highlight to most of the morning. And since I’d stayed in bed all day clinging to my cell phone, I didn’t feel like doing much of anything else. Every now and then, I scribbled nonsense in one of my journals, texted Blakely or Dee to pass the time. They knew not to bring up any paranormal sightings with me.
Before I realized it, 11:57 p.m. glowed in purple next to me. A dark laughter bubbled up aimlessly as I remembered my last thoughts before we crashed. With a hefty exhale, I slipped the cell under the pillow while eyelids closed. Once I hit the wall of REM, I slipped into a pattern of, dream, scream, awake, rinse, repeat.
Lucky me.
Tuesday:
Ever since my shift at the Sip ’N Chug, the reality of Tod’s funeral loomed closer with every passing hour. I poured myself a cold cup of pessimism and topped it off with a layer of foamy penitence while spending most of my time practicing methodically what I would say to Tod’s mother… if I built up enough nerve to approach her.
I dug out his letterman’s jacket from the hospital bag and placed it on the back of my chair. It smelled burnt, but when I held it close, I could still detect the lingering scent of AXE. Occasionally, I would talk to it as if Tod were sitting there wearing it. Was it appropriate asking him which method of greeting was proper for his grieving parents?
Listening to my voice rehearse, it lacked the sorrow I was trying to share with them. The distress in each word was mostly from guilt, considering I had a hand in his death. How could heartache compare? I had lost a fling, whereas they lost a son. I shuddered, wanting to cry, but reminded myself I was still undergoing emotional dam construction. Jake helped with rebuilding the wall by placing the first stone of silence down. It made the job easier so I could prevent those unwanted emotions from penetrating and containing the water where it belonged, inside.
Later in the day, Mom came in to check on me, making sure I had everything ready for tomorrow. She had given me a glass of water and some pills before she left.
Rae-Lynn helped me pick out an old dress from the back of her closet. It was clean cut, and definitely not for partying, instead, it whispered,
I’m a conservative church dress.
The scoop neckline was perfect for me to wear the choker I bought last month, but the memory of the purchase made me smirk, as I recalled window shopping at the Meadows Mall with Tod in tow. He didn’t like shopping, yet he had more shoes than me and Rae-Lynn combined.
The polyester, rayon, and spandex blend filled all of my needs: warmth, look, and comfort. I wouldn’t need a wrap because of the three-quarter length sleeves, and to provide even more coverage, the skirt hit above my knees. The slit in the back of the dress was high enough to make a quick escape. The flat black color would help me blend in with the background so I wouldn’t have to talk to anyone unless I wanted to.
A trickle of water tickled down my nose, triggering a sniffle. The hiccup that followed made me grasp why I had picked it out to wear. Staring at the dress draped across the seat next to his jacket, the scene seemed ironic. The sleeves touched as if we were holding hands. Tod and I were going on our last date together, and I had decided at the end of it, I was going to break up by saying
goodbye
. I knew what I needed to do so we could both have a clean slate to move on with no strings attached from either side. I needed him to forgive me, no matter where he was.
I was being squeezed by an emotional boa constrictor, causing my breath to hitch and the trail of tears to become sticky and heavy. I didn’t want to fall asleep because I knew what was awaiting me on the other side of those weighted down lids. However, this blanket of sadness I had wrapped myself up in was comfortable, and I was so exhausted. My body shut down against its own will.
Against the house, I heard soft moans singing in the breeze. It lulled me into a false sense of security. Just before my lashes locked together, I thought I felt a light trace of cold brush each cheek… wiping my tears. I sank suddenly into sleep.
The past few nights I had noticed the dreams becoming much worse. This one was by far the most obscure. Whatever had happened in my demented mind was now physically following me out, twisting reality.
***
I fell into a dream, landing in the middle of my lawn like a cat. Fear grabbed my mind and panic slammed into my chest making it hard for me to breathe. From a crouch, I sprang toward the darkness encircling the house. The smoky mist felt threatening, and I was being drawn to someplace higher.
Rounding the left corner of the house, I was in a full sprint. The grass was slick from the mist causing me to lose traction. My inner brakes locked up. I fell forward, smacking into the base of a tree, my head tilted back at the welcoming refuge. The wind lightly swayed its leafy tentacles, urging me to get off the ground. Each branch seemed to be stretching down, extending to me a sense of trust. Arms and legs moved on their own pushing me up to the crown of the tree. I tried to suck in the moist air as I looked down. Recognition tapped into memory. I was climbing up the weeping willow at the side of our house.
Making it to one of the main branches, I wondered if the thickness could still hold me. I took a chance and kicked one leg over while silently cursing against time. Straddling it, I began to scoot across the branch. This one I knew all too well since I had used it as an alternative escape from my window several times before. The air sharing my space was spiked with a taste of chill. On this night, the dampness swept up the roots, covering the leaves with moist droplets. Rustling on the vined limbs gave me a sense of being unwanted, causing my heart to weep.
Something was about to strike. Realization hit me. I had nowhere to run. Trapped, I watched in horror as the frost began to form over the unearthed roots. Instantaneous cracking and popping, from the night’s moisture, hardened, moving with increasing speed. I gazed through blurred eyes at the ice working its way up the bark of the tree. With doubt’s shadow of damnation revealed, I knew it wanted to kill me.
The sound from the instant freeze seemed to blend in with someone who shared the same icy laughter. I craned my neck to locate the reverberations, and that’s when I saw seven cloaked figures standing on my roof. I couldn’t move. Each had different colored eyes, staring directly at me. One, in particular, caught my attention with dark, indigo eyes that seemed to covet me. A convulsion of quakes rocked from head to toe, but it wasn’t from the instant drop in temperature. I dug my nails into the tree limb, fearing his unhinging stare might break my hold.
He separated from the cluster, floating down from the roof toward the branch with his hand held out. I had the urge to call him a friend but was too afraid to address the cloaked figure that way. The hood covering his head also concealed most of his face and the only features I could make out was from the moon’s light whispering some of his secrets to me.
A mixture of light and shadow played across his face, revealing his skin color as a light gray, almost ashen in color. The smile that coiled up on the edges of his mouth displayed pure bright, white teeth. While I pondered his appearance, he cocked his head, enough for the moonlight to cast an ultraviolet black light glow on his face. I figured the discoloration was from the moon reflecting off his cloak. Shivers caused goosebumps over every inch of skin as I noticed the blackness wrapped around my house. It appeared as an extension of his cloak, approaching the tree. My sight swam in tears that would never be born because the crisp, night air dried them faster than I could shed. Even though he remained concealed under his cloak, I noticed he raised his head, maybe trying to understand why I wasn’t accepting his help.
Maybe?
I had only two options because the tree was turning brittle from the ice, and would soon give way under the weight. If that happened, I would fall to my death or accept my fate into his unknown hands. I begged, with pleading eyes, for him to give me a small sign that I could trust him.
Even though we shared the same distance, his aura oozed of incontestable power. His cloak lost the indigo tints of mist, making his appearance seem more menacing. In direct conflict, the two orbs of the same color blazed with reassurance. His eyes said he was not a creature of myth or fairy tales, but of memory.
The branch beneath me made a sound of protest, which broke our spiritual connection. Coming up hard and fast, another wind gust tried to knock me off my perch. Long strands of hair blew around, whipping and stinging the sides of my face. The cracking and splitting sound echoed louder, and I glanced back at the cloaked creature.