Nightmares from Within

by Jessica Prince

“Ah, her loss,” Stevens, formerly-known-as-Stank-Breath replied. “I gotta take a piss. Get me the Reuben, would ya?”

  I scribbled his order down as he walked away from the table, making sure to keep my eyes on the pad in front of me instead of on the man with the beautiful eyes.

  “Sorry about him. He was dropped on his head as an infant.”

  I couldn’t stop the blush from creeping up my neck as he spoke to me in that rich, decadent voice.

  “More than once?” I asked.

  He gifted me with the most melodic laugh I’d ever heard. I wanted to record that sound and play it over and over every night until I fell asleep with it imprinted in my mind.

  “Yeah. I’m pretty sure it was an everyday occurrence.”

  I reached up and fiddled with the locket at the base of my neck, a habit I’d had since I was a child. Any time I felt uncomfortable I would grab onto the locket my grandmother passed down to me on my seventh birthday. Granny was the only family member that I remember ever feeling close to. Something about touching the locket soothed me and made me feel grounded.

  We both stayed quiet for what felt like an eternity, before he finally broke the silence. “You aren’t really married, are you?” He made it sound like a statement. “Please tell me a woman as beautiful as yourself isn’t already taken, because if that’s the case, I’m giving up on humanity as a whole.”

  How could I even respond to that? I knew my eyes were the size of golf balls and the small blush had turned into a full blown reddish purple. “Um. Uh…” I stuttered. “I’m just going to go put in your order.”

  I started to scurry off to the kitchen when his voice stopped me. “But I haven’t ordered anything.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut in embarrassment and turned around. “Shit. I’m so sorry.” I rushed to pull my pad and pen out of my apron and managed to drop them both on the ground as I fumbled around.

  I bent to pick them up at the same time he did, but he got there first. “Easy there, Crimson.” I heard the smile in his voice and when I stood back up, I was surprised to find his eyes were trained on my face as opposed to my chest.

  “Crimson?” I had to ask. I normally took orders and interacted with customers only as much as was absolutely necessary, but there was something about him that made me want to stay. Made me want to talk to him more just to hear his voice.

  “Yeah. Every time you get nervous or embarrassed you turn bright red. It’s actually really cute.”

  And there went the blush again.

  “See! Like right now. Do I make you nervous, Crimson?”

  He lowered his voice and the deep register caused a tingle down in my belly. Oh God. This man was doing horrible things to my non-existent libido.

  I had to put a stop to it.

  “My name’s Taylor, not Crimson, and no, you don’t make me nervous. Now if you don’t mind, I have other tables I need to take care of, so can you just give me your order so I can go about my job and take care of my other customers?”

  I’d never felt worse shooting a man down, but it had to be done. I wasn’t made for relationships. I was too damaged.

  Those full lips went into a tight, straight line and his eyebrows dipped down in a frown. I missed his smile as soon as it was gone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you.” He opened his menu and started looking through it quickly. I couldn’t walk away from his table with him thinking he’d insulted me. I knew it was dangerous and stupid, but I had an insane need to see that smile on his face again.

  I did something so completely out of character that it startled me just as much as it did him. I placed my small hand down over his larger one and smiled down at him. “You didn’t insult me,” I said softly. “It’s just been a long day. I’m sorry for being so rude.”

  At that moment, it was as if an electric current moved from his hand to mine, sending a small jolt through my body. I looked at his face and saw that his mouth was slightly open and his eyes were a little wider than before. He felt it too.

  He cleared his throat and gave his head a little shake. “Um…I’ll take the turkey club.”

  I scribbled his order down and gave him another shy grin. “Got it. I’ll put your order in now.”

  I turned to walk away, but was stopped again when he gently put his hand on my forearm. The current came back as soon as he touched me.

  “I’m Jordan. It’s nice to meet you, Taylor,” He said with a wide grin. Something about that smile heated me from the inside out.

  “Nice to meet you too, Jordan,” I replied shyly.

  He softly ran his fingers down my forearm before removing his hand completely and goose bumps broke out across my skin. “You aren’t going to tell me if you’re really married, are you?”

  I let out a tiny laugh and shook my head. “No.”

  “No you won’t tell me, or no, you aren’t married?”

  I threw my head back and released the first real laugh I’d had in ages. I was starting to feel like a different person; a little lighter and more carefree. “No I won’t tell you.”

  Am I flirting? Shit. I can’t do this. I cannot flirt with this guy!

  He opened his mouth to respond, but his friend took that moment to return from the bathroom. “Whew! Man, I had to piss like a Russian race horse!” he announced loudly.

  I took that as my cue to make my escape from Jordan and his intoxicating voice.

  The rest of the lunch rush went by without anymore flirting or blushing on my part, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t feel the constant burn of Jordan’s eyes on me as I moved through the diner.

  His friend did a damn good job of being the perfect buffer between us and I was both grateful and irritated all at the same time. I knew the interaction between me and Jordan wasn’t safe, but I couldn’t stop myself from wanting that feeling of being free from my personal hell whenever he talked to me.

  When they stood to leave a small part of me broke as I watched him walk out the door. He made me feel things I’d never experienced before, things I didn’t know were even possible for me to feel. I was sad that he was gone but thankful for the few minutes I’d had with him.

  I went to clear the table and that was when I saw it.

  A small piece of paper the size of a business card. The handwriting was damn near illegible but I still managed to make out what it said.

  Crimson,

  It was an absolute pleasure meeting you. I hope to see your beautiful face again soon, but until then, I’ll settle for your equally beautiful voice.

  I turned the card over and saw that he’d scrawled his number on the back of it.

  I knew I wasn’t going to call him. I didn’t have the luxury of entertaining thoughts about having a relationship, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy gaining the attention of an attractive man. A huge smile slowly spread across my face and there was no way of removing it as I worked the rest of my shift. It felt like things were finally looking up.

  “I’ve never seen you smile so much in all the years I’ve know you, Doll. It wouldn’t happen to be because of that tall, blond sex-on-a-stick that was in here during lunch, would it?”

  I should have known better than to think Benny would let my change in demeanor slide without drawing attention to it. And just as I expected, a lot of the other staff had to join in on her good-natured ribbing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, keeping my head lowered as I wiped down tables and began placing chairs on top. I blushed whenever I thought of Jordan, which just reminded me of our entire encounter. That in turn caused me to blush even harder. It was a vicious cycle.

  “What were you reading when Blondie left earlier?” one of the other waitresses asked. “I thought you were gonna break your face, smiling that wide.” Everyone around me laughed and I couldn’t help but join in. I hadn’t felt so good in…well…ever, actually. I’d never felt a part of something the way I did just then, standing around being teased about a guy.

  “I know something you
don’t know,” Cassie sing-songed from behind me.

  We all looked her way and waited for her to spill. “A certain hot blond stopped by the hostess stand on his way out and asked for a certain waitress’s phone number.”

  My skin went damp and the blush disappeared leaving me paler than normal. Things just changed drastically in the blink of an eye.

  I let myself appreciate having a handsome man who I was attracted to hit on me, but I never intended to follow through with anything. There was too much risk, too much fear. I just wanted to feel alive for a little while and now that was gone. If he had my number and called to ask me out would I actually be able to turn him down? Could I resist that sinful voice and make the decision I knew was the safest for me?

  Shit!

  Cassie must have noticed how panic-stricken I’d become because she put both hands on my shoulders and hunched down to eye level. “Calm down, Taylor. I didn’t give it to him.”

  I let out a huge sigh of relief and my entire body slumped as the tension seeped away.

  But then she burst my bubble almost as quickly as she’d inflated it. “But I don’t think that’s going to stop him; he seemed pretty determined.”

  Benny came up beside me and bumped my shoulder playfully. “I bet he’s back in here before you know it.”

  She and Cassie were both smiling like that was a good thing and I couldn’t expect them to understand why it wasn’t.

  I stopped at the little corner store on my way home to grab a sandwich for a late dinner and something caught my attention as I stood at the checkout line.

  THE POET CLAIMS ANOTHER VICTIM.

  I wasn’t sure why, but that bold font headline pulled me in and I found myself dropping the copy of The Seattle Times on the counter next to my dinner for the cashier to ring up.

  As I walked down the street toward my apartment I started to read the article that warranted front-page news.

  Police have confirmed that the body of Sylvia Garcia, the twenty year old Seattle resident that was found in SoDo earlier this week, was a victim of the killer people are referring to as The Poet.

  Deputy Chief Walters is not answering any questions related to the poem left at the scene at this time, but in a press conference late yesterday evening, he verified that one was found. There is no word yet on whether police are classifying this man as a serial killer, but sources say that there have been no suspects or persons of interest so far.

  The only information being given in this case is that the sites where the women’s bodies have been located were not where the murders occurred.

  This is the third confirmed killing in four months. On February 16, the body of eighteen year old Alicia Gilbert was found by pedestrians in Pioneer Square; just weeks later, on April 2, twenty-two year old Marissa Waters’ body was found by a dock worker near Coleman Dock, Pier 52.

  State officials are urging all females between the ages of seventeen and twenty-five to be conscious of their surroundings at all times.

  I was so engrossed in the article that before I realized it, I was walking up the steps of my apartment building. As I pushed through the doors, Gary raised his head and quickly noticed the newspaper clutched tightly in my hands.

  “Miss Taylor, you shouldn’t be reading about that. It’ll give you nightmares for weeks.”

  If you only knew. I thought.

  The article wasn’t going to be the cause of the nightmares, but it certainly hadn’t helped to read about those poor young women. I turned my attention from the paper to Gary. “It’s okay. I just feel awful for these women’s families.”

  He nodded in agreement. “Me too. Now do you understand why I just about have a heart attack every time you go jogging at three in the morning? Imagine how your parents would feel if they found out anything bad happened to you.”

  I didn’t bother telling him that my parents didn’t have the time or desire to worry about my safety. They didn’t even know or care where I was. I moved away from Connecticut and that perfect little country club, politically-endorsed Hell, clear across the country as soon as I was able to. They probably threw a party to celebrate being rid of the embarrassment that had been holding them back for eighteen years. The only thing that my folks did for me was allow me access to my trust fund the second I graduated high school. With that and the hefty checks their accountant deposited in my bank account each month to keep me away, I had plenty of money and didn’t really need to work.

  But like I said, the distraction was a necessity.

  I spoke over my shoulder as I made my way to the elevator. “Tell you what, Gary, I’ll start running on the treadmills in the gym, but you have to promise to stop calling me Miss.”

  He placed his hand over his heart like I’d just granted him a lifelong wish. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Taylor,” he replied with a wink.

  I’d just pushed the key into the lock when the tell-tale ache started at the base of my skull.

  “Oh God, not again.” I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to see how another person was going to die. If it was a gift, I wanted the giver to take it the fuck back! If it was a curse I didn’t know what I’d ever done that was so bad to warrant such an awful punishment.

  I managed to get my door open just as the sharp, blinding pain started radiating through my skull.

  This one was different though.

  I never had a migraine come on so fast before.

  I was seven when the hallucinations first started, and migraines were never a part of it. But as the years progressed the headaches grew worse and worse. Now they were at a debilitating level. The pain was usually so unbearable that I’d have no choice but to curl up in a ball on the bathroom floor with tears streaming down my cheeks, just waiting for it to end.

  Through the pain I’d see flashes of a person dying, but it wasn’t just a typical death. I couldn’t just see someone passing quietly in their sleep. Oh, no. I had to see people being murdered. People having their lives ripped away from them at the hands of another person as they fought to escape. I never saw the person doing the killing, just the victim, and as if seeing their fear wasn’t enough, I had to feel it as well. Every thought that went through their minds, every emotion they experienced, the bone-chilling terror coursing through their veins as they died.

  I rushed to the bathroom as fast as I could. Bright flashes of light from the pain in my head blurred my vision, to the point that I wasn’t sure where I was going. I didn’t quite make it to the toilet before the searing pain caused my stomach to expel its contents for the second time in one day.

  Visions of a blonde woman were flashing behind my closed eyelids.

  Something wasn’t right though. Instead of being an outsider experiencing this girl’s pain, I felt like I was her. That couldn’t be right. She had blonde hair to my brown. From the flashes, I could tell that she was much taller than me. Things weren’t adding up.

  I heard her screaming.

  I felt panicked as she ran from someone.

  But I couldn’t see her face. Why couldn’t I see her face?

  Her back stayed to me the whole time as bits and pieces of her death came at me with the force of a sledge hammer against concrete.

  This isn’t right.

  That was the last thought I had before the pain grew to be too much and blackness consumed me.

  The Poet

  I was becoming discouraged. The last woman I thought was special turned out to be nothing more than a pathetic liar. I’d given her a chance to be my soul mate and she’d thrown it back in my face by claiming to be married. I followed her around long enough to know that wasn’t true.

  She’d disappointed me and for that, she had to suffer the consequences. The only thing my filthy whore of a mother had ever taught me was that women were never to be trusted.

  But the romantic in me refused to believe it. I knew in my heart that there was a woman out there who was meant just for me. I just needed to find her.

  I’d been coming t
o Cherry Street Coffee House for a few weeks for one reason. It wasn’t the coffee; there was a better coffee house just a few blocks down the street.

  No, it was the beautiful barista that stood behind the counter every morning. She’d called me handsome the first morning I walked in and hope sprang to life inside of me. After Sylvia, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to find another love, but she graced me with that gorgeous smile and I was helpless.

  “Good morning, lovely Samantha,” I greeted, as I took my turn to order. The bright smile she normally shot at me most mornings seemed a little strained.

  “Good morning, sir. What can I get you?”

  Why was she speaking to me with such formality? I thought we’d moved passed that over the last few days.

  I smiled wider in an attempt to pull her from whatever unpleasant thoughts were keeping her from paying me the attention I deserved. “I’m doing well. But I’ll admit my day would be perfect if you would agree to join me for dinner.” It was the second time I had extended the invitation and she’d do well to accept it.

  She fidgeted behind the counter and averted her eyes. The fact that she wouldn’t maintain eye contact angered me.

  “I’m sorry but I’m in a relationship.”

  For weeks, I watched her from the shadows. I knew there wasn’t a man in her life so why was she lying to me? Didn’t she know what I was capable of giving her?

  I felt the anger churning deep inside, threatening to take over.

  She wasn’t special after all.

  She was just like the rest of them…a dirty, lying whore.

  And she was going to have to pay for her sins.

  Taylor

  I am not yours, not lost in you,

  Not lost, although I long to be

  Lost as a candle lit at noon,

  Lost as a snowflake in the sea.