A Horrible Dream (Post Eleven)

It was difficult to look ahead.  There was screaming at the back of his mind, telling him to look away.  Telling him to run lest the shadow returned for him.  He realized that he was terrified.  Despite the fact that he is a twenty-year-old grown man, he was terrified of what could be up those stairs.  Years of knowing that ghosts and hauntings weren't real did nothing to calm him.  This sure felt pretty damn real.  Another chill ran up his spine at that thought and he rubbed his arms to help calm his nerves.  Hauntings aren't real.

He stood at the bottom of the steps for a long while, just staring at the dark, shadowed floor in front of him.  He could hear the house creaking above him.  It almost sounded like the wind had picked up outside but for some reason he doubted it.  He was starting to doubt many things.

The hairs on the back of his neck began to prickle, a soft sigh seeming to come from nowhere.  Suddenly he spun, falling backwards over the first two steps and onto the landing.  He could have sworn that something touched him and whispered directly into his ear.  His shoulder still tingled where the fingers had been and the feel of warm breath on his ear still sat heavily in his mind.

Leaning against the wall and closing his eyes, he sighed.  There was nothing behind him.  "I swear, this has to be a bad dream."  His fingers became damp with sweat as he wiped his brow.  "No use sitting here... The faster I get up there, the faster I can get out."  Even still, his first few steps up the stairs after standing were hesitant at best.

He noticed as he climbed the steps that the house had gone silent.  Every noise he made seemed amplified, as if it was echoing in a cave around him.  An inky black wall waited at the top of the stairs, almost as if the dark had gathered in that one spot, drinking in any light it could find.  He found himself frozen to the steps just below it, hand plastered to the banister, staring into the haze.  Prying himself loose, he took one more deep breath and stepped forward into the murk.

His stomach curdled as he passed through the wall, the cool clammy air of the main floor giving way to a hot, steamy froth.  The suddenly sticky air tasted sickly in his mouth.  His hand found the wall to steady himself with and he waited there for a moment, trying to get his stomach to stay down.  It seemed no use but was worth a try.  He still could not see.

Suddenly he felt that the house was living again.  He could feel a faint but steady in-and-out breeze moving past him though it did nothing to alleviate the nauseatingly soupy feeling of the air.  The floor beneath him seemed to sway slowly from side to side, not helping his nausea at all.  Despite this, he continued forward.  He realized that now, even his movements were silent as the grave.  The house was so quiet that it was deafening.

The door to the first room was soon under his hand.  The door was closed now.  It wasn't before.  Still, something told him to continue on.  He felt as if he was being pulled further down the dark hallway.  Another door soon passed by, the room with the green bed not feeling right either.  Finally he stopped, standing just outside the room with the pink bed.  He knew this had to be it.  There was no other place for her to be.

He turned slowly, still hardly able to see in the dark.  The door was closed, the knob almost seeming to glow faintly in the gloom.  Everything seemed to be drawing him to that.  There was an air of hauntingly bizarre excitement in the house.  The rhythmic breeze had slowed, then stopped altogether, as he stood there, transfixed by the little round object on the door in front of him.  He slowly reached out and grabbed the knob, another shudder streaking through him as he turned it and pushed the door forward on its hinges.

Closed Eyes - 9

Cece rolled her eyes once more. "Whatever. Anyways, I told her how it had to be a dream, so she told me to go to sleep and when I woke up I would understand. So luckily it was a dream, after all!" Cece didn't feel like sharing how it felt as if only moments had passed since she had fallen asleep in her dream and woken up in the hospital. She supposed that's how it always happened, anyway. 

Patrick smiled and nodded. "I'm certainly glad it was a dream." 

Cece smiled back before yawning. "I'm sorry Patrick, I don't know why I'm so tired. I've been sleeping for how long?" 

Patrick shrugged, concern on his face. "Sometimes when you have strange dreams it makes you feel like you haven't slept in a while. Plus, just because you get a handful of hours of sleep doesn't mean it makes up for all the previous nights you didn't sleep at all."

"I know," Cece said quietly, suddenly feeling more exhausted. She was ready for a real sleep, not one hindered by such a vivid dream. Patrick was probably right- her dream was too vivid to make her feel as if she actually got any sleep. 

Patrick stood from the chair to stand closer to Cece's bedside. He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead, then gently began rubbing his hand through her hair. "Sleep, Cec. You need it. I'll be here when you wake up." 

Cece sighed and nodded. She felt comfortable with Patrick's warm presence beside her, so didn't feel too much as if she were still in the uncomfortable hospital bed.

She closed her eyes, concentrating on Patrick's soothing hand on her forehead, rather than on the intense burning her skin was still giving off. 

It didn't take long before Cece felt herself drift off to sleep. 

*** 

As soon as she felt herself let go, Cece's eyes popped open. She immediately felt disoriented as she sat up, eyes wide and gasping. "No, no, no, nononononono! NO!" 

Desperately, Cece looked around at the familiar mud hut with the shelves upon shelves of jars and other crazy items, the two rocking chairs in the center of the room, the strange detailed rug, and the wooden stove in the corner of the room. 

"Why is this happening to me?" Cece whispered to no one in particular. She closed her eyes and gripped her head, rocking slightly back and forth in confusion. 

"Child, I told you this was no dream," a familiar voice said. 

Cece looked up and glanced over at Loyie, who was just returning back into the hut. 

"What is going on?" Cece demanded, quickly throwing the light blanket to the side and standing to approach Loyie. She's just a young girl! How would she even know what's happening to me? What kind of dream is this that can keep haunting me!? 

Loyie simply smiled and handed Cece a cloth-bundled item and gestured toward the empty spot on a shelf. "Put that over there, child. My arms are too full." 

Cece grumbled before shoving the bundle onto the indicated spot. She tugged irritably at the ill-fitting dress, wishing it didn't cling to all the wrong places. 

"Tell me what is going on. Now!" Cece had little patience left. She wanted the dream to just end, but apparently something in her mind wasn't letting her go. She hoped that Loyie would answer whatever her mind wanted her to know so she could move on. Never before had a dream been so persistent. 

Loyie raised an eyebrow at Cece's tone, but said nothing as she casually placed several wrapped bundles on different shelves. She seemed to know exactly where to place them, though to Cece's eye there was no pattern or organization to the items on the shelves. 

"Well?" Cece asked impatiently, crossing her arms and tapping a foot. 

Loyie placed the last bundle on the floor and simply stared at Cece for a long moment. Her eyes bored into Cece as if weighing her very soul. It made her uncomfortable, but she resisted the urge to immediately drop her eyes from Loyie's. Loyie looked so young, but those eyes certainly were telling a different story. 

"I have already told you that this was no dream, yet you refuse to accept it. Beyond that, I have no more answers for you. You came here as if born from the cursed sea and have a memory of a newborn babe of this world. I do not know why you are here any more than you do." Loyie's words struck a chord of panic within Cece. If Loyie doesn't know why I am having this dream, then who does my dream want me to talk to to figure this out? 

"Then maybe I'll just leave. If I can't wake up when I want to, maybe I'll walk my way out of this situation!" Cece said, though as soon as the words left her mouth she knew how foolish she sounded.

Loyie only smiled and gestured toward the door. "Then walk. But you are going to need a guide to get out. They set traps around this camp and only one person at a time knows their way around them." Loyie's smile widened slightly, though the change never touched her eyes. "I believe Prince Bramaad's are still in place, if you wish to seek him out." 

Cece shuddered and rubbed her arm unconsciously. She could almost feel the prince's iron grip on her arm as he dragged her to the most secure place they had. Somewhere he'd want to keep an eye on me at all times, probably. Sheesh, why did my mind have to make such a handsome man such a jerk? 

Blushing in sudden guilt, Cece sighed. "Fine. Let's say this isn't a dream. What am I doing here? Why me, of all people? I'm just a motivational speaker!" 

Loyie's eyes sharpened as she looked more closely at Cece. The woman looked like a panther just about to jump on its prey. "A motivational speaker?" 

Cece rolled her eyes. "You know, I get up in front of people and tell a sad story of my own, then start giving advice on how to cheer up. Motivate them. People pay good money for it." 

Loyie's eyes suddenly unfocused, as if she were looking deep within herself. She was inhaling slowly, then suddenly let out the breath as if it were escaping from a balloon. Loyie's eyes snapped back into focus and licked her lips uncertainly. 

"Tell me, child, what is this sad story you tell?" 

The uneasiness from Loyie made Cece's stomach knot. It was the first time she had seen the little woman unsure of herself, which made Cece more worried than before. Loyie was supposed to be the one with all the asnwers so she could get out of her crazy dream! 

Finally Cece shrugged. She had told the story so many times, but when it came to just admitting it to Loyie, she suddenly felt uncomfortable. "My parents died in a plane crash. I was also on the plane, but somehow I survived." Cece eyed Loyie's grayed expression before adding, "Not that you know what a plane is." 

"No," Loyie whispered, "but the loss of family members is always tragic. We have lost many in the war ourselves, so I understand." 

Cece frowned. She felt as if Loyie's expression were saying one thing and Loyie's words quite another.

 

"Come," Loyie finally said, taking a deep breath and gathering herself as if nothing had happened, "let me make more salve for your sun scorch."

Previous   Next

A Horrible Dream (Post Ten)

Jack was starting to stand, "We need to go.  We have to get out of here.  Now.  Right now."  His voice was quiet and strained.  He nearly tripped over the rug in the middle of the floor in his urgency to get out of the house.  Beth was just as ready to go, moving to help steady Jack.

"What?  What was it?"  Marla hadn't been able to see the stairs but it wasn't hard for her to pick up that the others were very deeply shaken.  Jack clung to her when she came near.

"There was... Something... On the stairs."

Jack suddenly interrupted, "I'm going to the car.  I don't care.  I need out of here.  We should all go to the car and just get the hell out of here."  He was edging towards the door, pulling Marla a little off balance in the process.

"But Sam is still up there."  Beth chimed in, almost starling them with how quiet she had been.  She looked nervous and almost as ready to run as Jack.  They all were scared.  "We can't just leave here.  We can't."

"The three of you go to the car.  Get Jack out of here before he dies of fright... I'll see about Sam."  He looked at the stairs, afraid that he might see the shadow again.  It was hard to swallow around the lump in his throat and his brow was beading up with sweat despite the coolness of the air.  Jack started to protest and he waived him away.  "Just get to the car and we'll meet you there."

He watched them cautiously make their way to the door, eyes on the stairs the entire time.  It almost felt like the house was holding its breath, waiting for them to do something.  The tension in the air was thick like a dense fog.  He shivered, now realizing that the room seemed to be getting colder.  Jack shuffled eagerly out the door, nearly dragging Marla along behind him.  Beth turned for a moment, looking back into the room with desperation on her face, before turning and slipping out of the house.

As the door clicked shut he realized that he had been holding his breath too.  He forced himself to slowly breath out and then in again.  The walls seemed like they were moving, the shadows crawling up and down them like snakes or tendrils of ink suspended in water.  Yet every time he tried to focus on any of it, it all vanished, leaving nothing but a normal wall or piece of furniture.  It was making his head spin.  It almost felt like the floor was trembling under his feet.  Everything seemed to be waiting.

He looked away from the door and to the stairs, steeling himself for the task ahead.  It might have been his imagination, but he could almost hear voices whispering to him.  Calling him.  Begging him to go on.  It didn't make him any more eager.  With one more deep breath and some more mental steeling, he finally forced his feet to move and made his way slowly towards the stairs.

Mary #2

Mary had only seen the ocean twice in her life, the first time being when she was just a small child. She had looked upon the crashing waves with her bright green eyes misted with tears of happiness. Even as a child she understood the power of the ocean and the beauty it held. Mary could still hear the sea gulls whining from above and the small children laughing as they ran out to meet the waves. The ocean brought so much peace and love for so many people.

                The trip had taken place on the warmest day of the summer with no clouds to be seen and the warm, salty ocean breeze filled the noses of every person walking along the sandy shores. Mary had felt so happy that day, wearing her brand new pink swimming suit and her hair up in pig tails to keep her long, wavy brown hair from her face. In one hand she carried a plastic yellow pail and shovel, the other hand she used to grip tightly onto her grandfather's gnarled hand.

                Squinting in the bright sunlight, Mary looked up at her grandfather, a huge smile on her face. The old man looked down, returning the smile. His eyes mirrored Mary's; misty wet at the beautiful ocean.

                Mary's grandfather had been in the Navy for the majority of his youth. He had been through a war, though at that time Mary didn't know the sacrifices her grandfather had made. He was simply grandpa, and Captain Johnson didn't mind being anything but "grandpa" to his one and only granddaughter.

                "What did I tell you, Mary? Isn't the ocean beautiful? It's bigger than all of us combined, and more powerful, too." Captain Johnson knew the ocean well. He had lived on a ship for many years, even after the war, but the ocean could be unforgiving as well as beautiful. After being aboard a ship for so long, Captain Johnson finally knew it was time to settle down and have a family.

                Every year he had taken his family out to the ocean on a boat he fixed up himself. His family loved the water just as much as he did, but when financial trouble hit the family, Captain Johnson had to sell his beloved boat to a wealthy man that had never had the passion for boating that the Captain did. In hard times, however, one could not be concerned over material things.

                "Grandpa, I don't ever want to leave!"

                Mary could remember her grandpa throwing back his head and laughing at her excitement, a youthful grin spreading across his face. "Come on Mary, I'll teach you how to build a sand castle!"

                The two spent the day in the sand, molding a sand castle with a moat. Mary could remember smashing the sand castle once it was built, giggling at seeing all their hard work turned into a giant lump of wet sand. Her grandpa only rolled around in the sand, laughing so hard tears fell from his eyes.

                Next, Mary spent her time running to catch the waves as it drew back, then running from them as the icy cold water nipped at her legs. Her Grandpa held her hand the entire way, laughing along with her. At times he would pick her up and swing her over the water, sometimes pretending to drop her as the waves climbed higher up his legs. Mary had only giggled, feeling more safe than she had ever felt before.

                As the day drew to a close, her grandpa brought out a small picnic basket and a large checkered blanket for the two to sit on. He carefully wrapped Mary's favorite white daisy towel around her, telling her to let him know if she grew too cold.

                "Let's eat!"

                The meal was one of Mary's favorite parts of the day. They ate peanut butter and grape jelly sandwiches with potato chips, fruit snacks, and drank a juice box. As Mary munched on her sandwich, her grandpa shared story after story of his own childhood, of how he spent his days with his brothers and all the trouble they found themselves in. He shared stories about Mary's grandmother and her own mother, and even shared some tall tales that ended with both of them laughing.

                After that day, Mary would constantly ask her grandpa to take her back to the ocean, but he was always busy doing other things to help keep his family afloat. As time went by, Mary stopped asking, feeling it would be selfish to take her grandpa away from the rest of the family; even if it were for only just a day.

                Mary grew older and had to move away, accepting a job that would relieve the financial stress her family was experiencing. She regretted having to move away from her grandpa, whom had always been her best friend. Whenever she had a day of doubts, he would always set her down in front of a peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich, potato chips, fruit snacks, and even had a juice box waiting for her, no matter how old she was. When she had hit her teen years, she thought her grandpa was being ridiculous, but he always had the right story to tell and she always felt better about herself.

                Soon Mary had a life of her own, and while she always meant to go back and visit her grandpa, things always came up. They called one another twice a week, but the Captain never let her know how he was doing. Instead, they reminisced about their visit to the ocean, promising one another that they would go back one day. Mary always noticed how her grandpa's memory of the day became more and more faded, but she chose to ignore the signs of her aging grandpa.

                One night the phone rang, and a soft voice said, "Is this Mary Johnson?"

                Groggily, Mary replied, "Yes. May I ask who is speaking?"

                "My name is Allison from the North Florida Medical Center in Newberry. I'm afraid I have some bad news. Your grandpa has taken a turn for the worse."

                Only a few hours later, Mary was on a plane heading toward her grandpa. It was not a trip she wanted to make, and regretted more than ever waiting so long to visit him.

                Once in the hospital, Mary was greeted by a nurse wearing blue scrubs. The woman looked bone weary, her green eyes red from lack of sleep.

                "I'm so sorry, Mary. My name is Allison, I called you last night to give you the news. I have been your grandfather's nurse for the past couple of days."

                Mary only nodded as she leaned over her grandpa, feeling numb to the sympathy the nurse was trying to give her. His liveliness had left his body and he looked older than she ever remembered. The Captain seemed weak and his spirit gone.

                "Come on grandpa, I'm going to get you out of here. We have a promise we need to keep," she whispered to him as his eyes opened and a weak smile appeared on his face. Once again their eyes mirrored one another; misted, but not happy.

                "Mary, I've missed you," Captain Johnson said, trying to keep his voice strong for his one and only granddaughter.

                Against the hospital's recommendations, Mary took her grandpa to her car and they drove to the coast to where Mary had first experienced the ocean. This would be the last time she  would look upon the ocean.

 

               

                Fredrick Johnson jumped out of the car with excitement, his green eyes bright with excitement. It would be the first time he would ever see the ocean, inspiring a life-long love of the sea.

                He ran out toward the sand, wearing his brand new bright blue swimming trunks and holding a bright yellow plastic pail with a shovel. His mother, Mary, came out behind the car, placing a wide-brimmed hat on her head to keep the bright sunshine from her eyes.

                "See son? Isn't the ocean beautiful? It's bigger than all of us combined, and more powerful, too," his mother said with a broad smile on her face. Fred grinned back at his mom, taking a deep breath of the salty ocean air.

                "I never want to leave!" he exclaimed, jumping up and down excitedly, swinging his plastic pail back and forth.

                "Come on, Fred, let me teach you how to build a sand castle!"

                The two spent the day making a sand castle, then taking turns splashing one another in the water. Fred couldn't remember ever being so happy, finally getting to spend time by himself with just his mom.

                That evening, his mother brought out a small picnic basket and they sat in the sand eating a peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich with potato chips and an apple. Each wrinkled their noses as they spat out sand, then laughed at how his mother had forgotten to bring a blanket for them to sit on.

                "Next time, Fred, I won't forget!"

               

                Mary watched as her grandpa's eyes drifted deep into memory. They were sitting on a wooden bench that was stationed within the sand and gave a perfect view of the ocean. He was swinging his legs like a small child, a grin growing across his face.

                "Grandpa, I brought us something to eat," she said with a sad smile. She reached into a small cooler she had along with her and pulled out two wrapped peanut butter and grape jelly sandwiches, two packets of fruit snacks, potato chips, and two small juice boxes. "I had the staff at the hospital make it for us, specially."

                Captain Johnson could only laugh as he plunged into his meal like he had done so many years ago. He no longer was Captain Johnson or Grandpa, but simply Fred, finally rejoining his mother back at the beach, enjoying his favorite meal.

                "Welcome back to the ocean, Fred, welcome back."

A Horrible Dream (Post Nine)

Sam was soaked and had a glassy, blank look in her eyes.  She stared straight past the two of them and into the distance.  Then, slowly, she swung her gaze to each of them, but it was hard to tell if she actually saw those in front of her.  Then she blinked and the glaze was gone.  She swayed on her feet for a moment but it lasted a heartbeat.  "I... I just needed air.  There were... memories... in there that I didn't expect."  She closed her eyes and massaged the bridge of her nose between two fingers with a sigh.  "It had been a long time since I was in there.  My grandpa used to 'hide' in there from grandma with me.  We would play hide 'n seek."

"I guess that is understandable."  Her grandparents had passed away a couple years ago already but the past always has a tendency to sneak up at unexpected times.  "You could have at least told us where you were.  I mean, there's some strange stuff going on and you had us worried."

She cocked her head at him with a confused stare.  "What's going on?"  She stepped past them when he indicated the doorway to the kitchen.  "Oh, my..."  It was a strange response.  "Where is Jack?"

"Huh?  He's upstairs with Marla... Why?"  It was odd how she jumped straight to Jack.

Before Sam could answer, Beth chimed in; "He went to go look for you.  After a while we had to go look for him too.  He was in the crawlspace.  He said something came after him... I don't know if I believe him.  He does seem rather off, though.  Really scared of something."

Sam was poking around the debris strewn about the kitchen floor, not really focusing on anything in particular.  "But there is nothing to be afraid of."  Suddenly the power went out.  Beth jumped a little and gave a start.  The sun had already set so the cabin took on a dark, gloomy cast.  The rain had picked up again outside.  Sam slowly rose from her crouching position, looking around in the dark.  "Nothing to fear."  She seemed to be talking to herself, her voice quiet.  Her words dwindled to little more than a murmur before she finally went silent.

"What did you say?  It almost sounded like--" There was a loud thump from upstairs.  By now Beth had a death grip on his hand and she clung to his arm.  Sam hadn't moved from her spot in the middle of the kitchen.  Instead her shadowy form was looking up towards the ceiling.  Her head slowly swiveled down to look towards him.  "What was that?"  There was a hushed calm in her voice.

If it wasn't too dark to see for sure, he could have sworn that there was a smirk on her face.  He blamed it on the shadows.  It had to be the shadows.

Suddenly she began to move towards the door.  Her pace was slow and unrushed, like she was lost in thought.  The wet slap of her bare feet on the linoleum floor was the only sound above the renewed drone of the rain.  She didn't slow as she neared them, not even pausing for them to step out of the way before continuing through.  "It sounded like it came from upstairs..."  She was on the landing before either of them moved.

"Beth.  Beth, does she seem alright?  It's not just me, is it?"  He looked at her in the dark.  Her eyes were wide, obviously scared.  Probably as wide as his.  She slowly shook her head, watching the dark landing where Sam had disappeared moments ago.  "We should probably follow her."  Beth slowly nodded, obviously unsure about going towards those stairs.

Suddenly they could hear the sound of feet from above them.  The two of them made their way to the stairs and found Jack and Marla on their way down.  Jack still seemed a bit shaky but Marla was more than enough support for him.  They were talking quietly and laughing softly together.  There was no sign of Sam.  Suddenly Marla noticed them standing in the dark at the bottom of the staircase.  "You two look like you've seen a ghost."

He glanced at Beth, more visible now that his eyes were adjusted to the dark, but still hazy in the gloom.  "Did you see Sam?"  Marla's confused expression was more than enough answer.  "She just walked up the stairs a few seconds before you came down them.  You would have had to pass her.  You had to."

Jack looked up at the mention of Sam, his eyes wide.  He licked his lips like they were dry but said not a word.  Marla spoke up instead: "Sam was down here?  Huh.  I wonder how she got down here without anyone noticing."

"She was outside. I have no idea when or how she got out there.  Then after the power went out we heard a thump from upstairs... And she went up there to check it out.  We were just about to follow her up when you two came down."  He swallowed nervously.  Beth was still clinging to him, doing her best not to look up the stairs or into the kitchen.

Marla scratched her head and then continued helping Jack down the stairs.  "Well, she must have slipped into one of the other rooms just before we came out.  We didn't see her."  Jack was glancing nervously back up the stairs, making it that much more difficult for Marla to help him down.  "That thump was us tripping over some bags when the power went out.  We were making our way out of the room when everything went dark.  We're good though.  Nothing to worry about."  She smiled at them as they parted to allow space.

Jack was still very obviously shaken up from whatever had happened and wanted to sit down on the couch.  He let go of Marla soon after they left the landing and shuffled his way towards his seat.  The others followed him.  Marla wandered over to the kitchen, gasping a bit when she saw the mess covering the floor.  "What the heck happened?"  She looked back at them, crowding around Jack in the dark.

"I have no idea.  Obviously that was the crashing noise we heard when we found Jack in the crawlspace.  Beyond that I have no idea how it all fell out like that... It's... creepy.  This is all kind of creepy right now."  He was man enough to admit that there was an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.  Sam was acting strange and some unusual stuff had been happening in the cabin.  The lack of power and the constant drum of the heavy rain weren't helping matters.

While he was talking he noticed that Beth's eyes were locked on the stairs.  Her hand, still gripped tightly around his arm, was beginning to shake.  He became aware of Jack trying to get his attention, his barely audible words getting louder until a whisper could be made out: "I think we need to leave.  I think we need to leave now."  Marla, standing in the kitchen doorway and unable to see the stairs, shrugged and looked confused but her uneasiness was not very well hidden.

He took a breath and slowly turned around to face the darkness that lead up to the second story.  At first he noticed nothing.  It was dark.  Since he was standing in what little glow the rainy night threw in the sitting room window the shadows on the stairs just seemed that much darker.  As he waited he realized that he could hear his heart thumping in his chest.  His arm was starting to tingle where Beth was holding on and a fine bead of sweat was on his brow.

His eyes slowly took in more detail.  Slowly adjusted.  Something was wrong.  There was someone watching them from the stairs.  "Sam?"  His voice seemed loud in the sudden quiet.  The shadow didn't move.  He almost thought his eyes were playing tricks on him.  He was about to call again but when he blinked the shadow was gone.  "Sam?"  Almost no sound left his lips.  His mouth was suddenly very dry.

Closed Eyes - 8

"Get your feet off," Cece laughed, pushing the booted feet off the side of her bed. She then settled carefully back against the hospital pillows, trying not to wince as the extra pressure made her skin burn all the more. "Shouldn't you be getting to work soon?" 

Patrick resettled himself in the chair and shook his head. "Nope. I told the captain that I wasn't going to come in until I was sure that you were okay. And we haven't gotten the test results back, so I'm not convinced that you are okay. So start telling me this dream." 

Cece shrugged. "I don't know, it was just really weird." 

"Good. Then at least it'll be an interesting story. How much do you remember?"

She shrugged again, somewhat uncomfortable. "Pretty much everything. It was really vivid. I could see color, I could feel the wind on my face and whipping through my hair. I could feel the sun shining and the warmth…" Cece trailed off, once again feeling nervous about her whole strange dream. It just felt so real. She knew how ridiculous the thought was, but she couldn't help it. 

"Huh. I don't know that I've ever had a dream that vivid before," Patrick admitted, though he didn't seem concerned. "Maybe it's just from how tired you really were." 

Cece nodded. "That's what I was thinking too." 

Patrick cracked a few knuckles before waving Cece to continue. "So… keep going." 

Cece tipped her head to the side as if it would help her remember everything that happened. "Well," she began, "I woke up on a beach totally naked-" 

Patrick laughed, interrupting her. "Well I like where this is going…" 

Cece rolled her eyes, then added, "and sunburned to a crisp." 

"Maybe whatever is causing your skin to be burning here made it seem the same way in your dream," Patrick interrupted again, as if the revelation would make Cece feel better about the situation. 

"Yes, yes," she said impatiently, "that's what I'm thinking too. Now let me talk." She paused, making sure Patrick had nothing else to add. When he said nothing, she continued. "I sat up and started looking around, trying to see if I could recognize anything around me, which of course I didn't. But when I looked behind me, there was this guy in strange clothing standing there." 

Patrick opened his mouth to speak, clearly unhappy and concerned that even a dream man would see her naked on a beach. Cece, however, held up a hand to silence him. 

"He was respectful and looked away. He told me that he was surprised to see someone down by the water. Apparently it was cursed or something." 

Patrick raised an eyebrow, but waited for her to continue, settling deeper into the cushioned chair. 

"Yes, he said that the water had been cursed for centuries and no one went by it," she continued, answering his unasked question, "and because he didn't know where I had come from, he wanted me to meet this Loyie person." The name 'Loyie' came out awkwardly, as if her mouth were full of marbles when she said the name. It certainly didn't sound as graceful on her tongue as it did on Jeroff's and Bramaad's. 

"Well aren't you creative in your deep dreams?" Patrick murmured, seemingly fascinated by her tale. 

Cece laughed. "That's actually what I was thinking even during my dream!" 

Patrick suddenly frowned. "That just seems too odd that you were able to have thoughts like that in your dream. Do you know how complicated that would be for your brain to come up with a dream that worked on its own, then made you have certain thoughts on top of it?" He shook his head in wonderment. "You really are somethin', Cec." 

She sighed. "You're not making me feel any better, Patrick." He only shrugged, letting her continue with her story. 

"So anyway, he started leading me away from the beach into this grassy field. The grass felt super sharp against my legs and the wind was starting to pick up. It was freezing!" Cece decided it was best to leave out the part that her engagement ring was missing as well, so had moved past that part in her dream. 

Patrick continued frowning, but Cece ignored him. "Eventually he stopped and another man materialized out from this tall grass. Apparently he was some kind of prince that led us to this little mud hut village in the forest. The prince then dismissed the other guy and dragged me to see this Loyie lady. He wasn't very nice." Cece rubbed her arm as if she could still feel his iron grasp against her skin. It certainly was tender, but Cece dismissed it. It could have been caused by someone trying to transport her to the hospital. 

"Well, he should be glad I wasn't in that dream or else he wouldn't be touching you like that again!" Patrick mock-threatened the dream prince. He reached for his belt as if reaching for his gun. 

Cece smiled. "I thought the same thing as he dragged me to this Loyie character. He even threatened me, saying that if I were to ever hurt anyone in their village, he would kill me." 

"Why would he say that?" Patrick asked, as if the prince were a real man that had real thoughts and feelings. 

"Oh yeah, sorry, I forgot to mention. They said that anyone coming from the water was supposed to bring death. Some kind of weird prophecy, whatever that means."

Patrick shook his head. "Odd," was the only thing he could say. 

Cece shrugged. "Well, then the prince finally got me into Loyie's little hut, and she pretty much told him off. She gave me some clothes which were way too tight, but then again, she looked like a scrawny 16 year old that hasn't hit puberty yet." 

"Hah, I wouldn't mind seeing that," Patrick teased, eyeing her mischievously. 

Cece rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you wouldn't, but it really wasn't that pretty of a sight." 

Patrick only grinned and gestured once more for her to continue. "And then what?" 

Cece sighed and closed her eyes as if it would help her remember further. She was growing tired again, but wanted to keep awake to spend some time with Patrick. Oddly enough, it was the most time she'd spent with him in several weeks. Cece had either been traveling, or Patrick had been pulling an extra shift in order to save up more money for their wedding. 

"Well, she basically then just told me that I wasn't dreaming and to think about how vivid everything felt and how could it be a dream?" 

"Probably another mind trick. Your mind was probably giving you a logical reason as to why you were seeing and feeling everything," Patrick said, interrupting her once again. 

Cece opened her eyes and glared at Patrick. "I know, hun. I've already thought of these things." 

Patrick crossed his arms across his chest and put on a blank face. "I'm just saying it out loud then, I guess." 

"Sorry, you've just gotten really good at interrupting me all of a sudden." 

Patrick laughed. "It's good to keep you on your toes."

 

Previous   Next