Protector

by Messenger, Tressa

  Startled, she calls out, “Dylan!”

  Nothing.

  “Dylan, are you home?”

  Still no sound is heard.

  Quickly the loneliness she feels begins to turn into something else, another feeling she isn’t familiar with - panic.

  She grabs her phone from her nightstand and enters Dylan’s speed-dial number. Anna-Marie listens as the phone rings in her ear. Her mind works as she waits.

  It isn’t uncommon for him to work late, but he never does so without calling her first, especially if they had made plans. After four rings it goes straight to his familiar voice on his voicemail.

  She throws off the blanket and jumps to her feet; the wooden floor is cool to her bare skin and sends goose bumps up her legs. Slowly she inches towards the bedroom window to look out into the night. Her view of the parking lot is obstructed from this angle, but it doesn’t stop her from trying to see if Dylan’s car is there anyway.

  She walks out to the living room and turns on the light. Everything is exactly the way she left it. A chill runs down her spine causing goose bumps to run down her body again, covering her arms and then her legs. She holds her phone out and hits redial.

  There is still no answer.

  She sits on the couch and pulls her knees up to her chest as she contemplates what to do next. She tries to convince herself that he is just running late and can’t get to his phone. Maybe the battery in his phone died. But the sinking feeling in her heart isn’t convinced.

  She grabs her coat off the back of the couch and slips on her shoes. Maybe he was stopped by the nosy neighbor downstairs; if so, he would need rescuing for sure. Everyone tried to avoid the man downstairs, but sometimes it was impossible and the only escape from his endless chattering was to be rescued by another tenant making their way in or out.

  She slowly walks out of her apartment and down the three flights of stairs, hugging the wooden banister as she goes.

  Once on the bottom step, she looks towards the nosy neighbor’s door. It is closed and she could hear the TV blaring on the other side. Her heart begins to pound in her chest, threatening to thump straight out and onto the cold floor. Her brain is yelling at her to keep going, but her legs are frozen, unable to respond. She grabs her phone out of her pocket and hits redial again. This time she hears it, not his voice as she was hoping, but the song in the distance that was theirs since high school. Slowly she follows the music, scarcely hearing the singer swear on the moon and the stars in the sky to always be there. As she makes her way to the building’s entrance the music suddenly stops. She holds her breath and looks out through the smudged glass door. That’s when she sees him crumpled on the pavement in front of their building.

  Her pounding heart stops at once. She throws the door open, a frigid early December breezes slams in her and runs to his side. Her wobbly legs are unable to hold her weight. She collapses on the cold concrete beside him. She stares at his broken body confused, and then pulls him into her lap like a sleeping child. His clothes are dirty and covered in a dark brown substance. As she looks closer, she realizes it’s not dirt at all, but blood seeping through shreds of his favorite olive colored suit that she had picked out for him to wear earlier that morning for his big meeting.

  “Dylan! Dylan! Open your eyes, baby.” Even as the words are coming out of her mouth, she knows he won’t respond. She hugs his limp body even closer to her and rocks back and forth. She is unable to move or call for help, even though she knows she should.

  A neighbor from her floor, coming home from wherever his world had taken him tonight, sees her heaped on the ground with Dylan at her chest.

  “Oh my God, Anna-Marie, what happened?” he asks. However, she is still unable to speak or take her eyes off Dylan’s still face.

  “Anna-Marie, are ya’ll okay?”

  Still she doesn’t respond.

  “Stay right here, I’m going to go call for help,” he says frantically as he runs inside of the building and up the stairs to his apartment.

  She doesn’t know how long she sat there, unable to move, before the paramedics arrived. Surely it was only minutes, but it felt much longer. In the darkness of her mind she feels someone tugging hard on her arms, as another person is trying to pry Dylan from her tight grip. That’s when Anna-Marie finds her voice and the darkness that has clouded her vision fades away.

  Anna-Marie cries, begs and curses as they pull her convulsing body away from his. She screams and fights with every ounce of desperation that is coursing through her, “NOOOO!!! What are you doing? No, please don’t. Stop it! He needs me. Dylan! No baby, please open your eyes for me. Please baby, wake up. I need you. You can’t leave me. You promised. Baby, please! You promised!”

  That’s all she could say as the words tumble out in one big painful attempt to bring him back to her. Her tears continue to flow in a never-ending stream, as her voice goes hoarse. Pure exhaustion has finally made her body go limp in the paramedic’s arms. Despite all of her efforts, he didn’t wake up. She fought hard, but failed. The shock and numbness of it all takes over as she stares at his lifeless body on the cold hard ground.

  ***

  Anna-Marie’s mom, Anna, came to stay with her for a while. She was afraid for Anna-Marie’s life and with good reason. Had Anna-Marie been alone, she would gladly have wanted to join Dylan.

  As the days go by, Anna-Marie feels like a ghost, watching herself as if not even in her own body going through the motions of trying to put one foot in front of the other. She tries to rest, but every time she closes her eyes, she can still see his lifeless, blood-smeared face staring blankly at a cloudless dark sky.

  The funeral was delayed a few extra days due to the investigation, but it didn’t take them long to give up. The police had no leads whatsoever, nor did they think they would. They figured there was no point digging too deep, when nothing but an animal could do such damage.

  The day of his funeral it all came to the surface once again. Anna-Marie tried to be strong, but it was impossible. She was quiet and detached for most of it, but she became hysterical once again when she saw his beautiful lifeless face in the open casket surrounded by lively flower arrangements with a multitude of assorted colors. It is the same lifeless face she sees every time she closes her eyes, minus the brownish red smears and broken flowers.

  It has been a whole week since Anna-Marie has last seen him. It was the longest stretch they had ever gone without seeing each other since his family moved into the dark brown house across the creek from hers the summer before third grade. Even as children, when he got the chicken pox, she refused to stay away; it was a wonder they both didn’t become afflicted with the nasty itchy virus.

  Anna-Marie could stare at his face forever; dead or alive, he was still her Dylan. Now his dark tanned skin was a bit pale, looking almost gray, against his dark chocolate hair. It was brushed back out of his face, causing him to appear much younger, almost like a teenager again. If only she could look into those sea-green eyes and hear his voice again, all would be right in her world.

  But that was the problem. They had to bury him and she would never be able to see his face again. It all seemed so unthinkable. She couldn’t let go. Anna-Marie clung to his casket for dear life, with panic and desperation consuming her every thought and emotion. Her heart ached so badly that breathing was becoming more and more difficult. Everyone kept watching her, knowing how hard this was for her. She didn’t care.

  Charles got up from his seat with a desire to do something for her, anything. He pulls her into a deep hug as he begins to cry with her. Dylan was his best friend. He had refunded the money back to Dylan’s credit card once he heard about his death. Most stores would make him honor the sale, but Charles could never do that, not to such good people. Instead he decided he will keep the secret to himself of the proposal that will never happen.

  Charles pulls back and wipes his own tears and smoothes down her loose hair, not caring about the people watching. It isn’t a
n affectionate act, but one of friendship and remorse.

  “Anna-Marie, I can never tell you how sorry I am. I happen to be one of the last people who saw him that night and as with any other time he beamed while talking about you. Never doubt how much that man loved you, never.”

  Anna-Marie is unable to speak. She looks back at Dylan, knowing it was the truth. After a minute, Charles heads back to his seat beside his wife.

  As everyone gathers at the cemetery, Anna-Marie is faced once again with the fact that she will never see Dylan again. The pain is so unbearable and she couldn’t breathe. With her last desperate breath, she tries to hold on to the sight of his face, but the darkness of unconsciousness is overtaking her. She passes out and falls to the cold ground in front of the casket, taking one of the colorful floral arrangements down with her.

  Within minutes she regains consciousness and sees that she is still in the cemetery with all of their family and friends around her. Thankfully Dylan’s dad is a doctor and is able to sedate Anna-Marie before she is led away by her family.

  She awoke in her bed later that day feeling utterly alone and defeated, feeling her life, as with Dylan’s, had ended on that tragic night on her doorstep.

  3

  It has been eight months now since Anna-Marie’s world crumbled into darkness. Life for her has been nothing short of sad and lonely, even now the feelings are just as intense as they were eight months ago. She still feels like a ghost floating through her life that she has been cursed to endure.

  She spends her days during the week at work; trying so hard to do the job she has loved her whole life. She sits behind her desk seemingly lost in a trance, blankly staring at the computer screen, and she scarcely gets her articles in on time by the end of the week. Today is no different.

  Anna-Marie’s boss, Peggy, has been standing in Anna-Marie’s open doorway for the past ten minutes, waiting for her to acknowledge her presence, but instead she is lost in her own world. As Peggy stares at her co-worker and friend, she is hit by an enormous sadness for her. She has known Anna-Marie since she interned here while in college seven years ago, so she is well aware of the spirited girl she used to be. Anna-Marie doesn’t seem to be able to pull herself out of this depression and Peggy is clueless as to how to help. Peggy studies Anna-Marie’s appearance; her once vivacious dark full hair is up in an unruly ponytail as usual and she is dressed down in whatever clothes she picked out in a rush. Her once honey-toned skin is turning pale because it hasn’t been kissed by the sun in almost a year and the lack of makeup makes it even more obvious.

  Finally Peggy can’t take the silence any longer, “Anna-Marie, how is your article coming?”

  Anna-Marie jumps at the sound of her voice, “Goodness Peggy, you scared me.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, but I’ve been standing here for the past ten minutes,” she says stepping into the office.

  “Oh, I didn’t notice you. What’s up?”

  “I was wondering how your article is coming?”

  “It’s coming along. I should be done soon,” Anna-Marie says shuffling some papers on her desk feeling unconvincing.

  “I hope so because the deadline is almost up.”

  Anna-Marie looks at the clock as if for the first time, “Wow, I didn’t realize it was almost five already. I will finish it as soon as I can, okay?”

  “Just get it in on time, please.”

  Peggy turns to leave but stops and turns back around to face Anna-Marie again, “Hey, why don’t you take some time off to get your head back together.”

  “Peg, I really don’t think that is necessary. I need my job.”

  “Well then, I want you to do your work from home for a couple of weeks. I can e-mail you your work. Maybe that will help you. I love you girl, but you’re depressing the hell out of me.” Peggy gives her a friendly smile and walks out of Anna-Marie’s office.

  Once Peggy closes her door, Anna-Marie looks back at the half-written article on the computer screen and takes a deep breath to clear her thoughts. “You only have one hour left, Anna-Marie. You can do this and then you get to go see Dylan,” she says to herself and smiles at the thought of being close to him.

  Anna-Marie visits Dylan’s grave every Friday after work with the excuse of changing out his flowers, but it’s really so she can feel close to him. In the beginning it was an everyday occurrence, but she has restricted herself in the past few months. Her mom thinks she shouldn’t go so often anymore, but Anna-Maria refuses to give up more days. Anna keeps saying eventually she has to get over this and move on, but Anna-Marie isn’t so sure that will ever happen.

  Anna would have Anna-Marie committed if she knew that on two occasions, when the night had been too unbearable and the nightmares so torturous, she just had to be with him. They usually are horrendous, but on those two occasions they were much worse. Anna-Marie went to her love to sleep by his grave, not caring about the possible dangers that lurk in the night. She would remember how he would rub her hair and make her feel so safe. And how his beautiful sea-green eyes would light up to an almost crystal clear blue whenever he laughed, usually at something silly she said or did. His laugher was always so contagious and she couldn’t help but to laugh as well.

  Of course, Anna-Marie knows Dylan is gone, but being there makes her feel his presence. On those nights, that was the only thing that could comfort the screaming in her heart.

  His grave is in a good spot, located under a beautifully massive live oak tree, which is famous here in Wilmington. Anna-Marie likes to sit under its expanse shade and talk to her love.

  “Hey, Dylan. How was your week?” she asks to the air around his headstone. “It’s been one of those weeks again, but I was able to get a couple of articles written. It’s a good thing too, because I think Peggy is starting to lose patience with me, I don’t blame her. She wants me to do my work from home for the next week or so. I think that is actually a good idea, too.”

  “I keep reassuring her that I will get my stuff together soon, but Dylan, it’s so hard. I miss you so much!” She chokes back tears that always seem to find her.

  “I know you probably think I come here too often like mama does, but I have to check in with you to make sure you’re okay. Coming here and trying to focus on my work are the only things that are keeping me going. I just want to sit here with you for a few minutes if that is okay with you. I think we could both use the company.”

  She bends her head over her knees and closes her eyes and gets lost in his spirit that engulfs her. There’s nowhere else she’d rather be.

  She opens her eyes and looks at the pinkish orange sky, as the sun descends in the sky, “Okay, Dylan, it’s starting to get dark and I have work to catch up on tonight. I will be back next week to freshen up your flowers. I love you, sleep well.”

  She bends down and kisses his name and puts his new flowers in their place.

  She goes straight home to her quiet apartment, as usual. Her life was once vibrant and full of possibilities, but now she goes through it in a daze. Minutes turn into hours, hours turn into days and days turn into weeks. It’s a never-ending cycle, but it all passes in a blur.

  At night Anna-Marie sits in her apartment in her sweats, alone, barely watching old reruns of TV shows she didn’t even pay attention to when they were new, while eating an “oh so bland” frozen dinner. At bedtime she goes to her spare bedroom and lies in her bed staring at the ceiling, afraid to close her eyes, waiting for the next day to begin the cycle again.

  She hasn’t slept in her bedroom since that dreadful night when her world ended. That bed holds too many memories for her to bear, memories of a life long gone. His once pronounced scent is becoming less and less apparent in the air, but she is sure if she opened his closet where his clothes still hang or hugged his pillow close to her face, she would still smell him.

  She still sees his face when she closes her eyes and awakens most nights screaming his name. The smallest things stir up memories of a life that seems so
long ago, and then the desperate panic sets in all over again. She is a shell of her former self and she knows her life will never be the same again.

  The nighttime is the worst for her; so much so, she has learned to live off of only a couple of hours of sleep, but no matter how much she fights it, sleep is inevitable. She fears the darkened world of sleep above all else, where anything and everything is possible.

  She dreams of blissful, yet painful memories from a past long gone, or even worst, the future that will never come true. She dreams of red-eyed monsters that chase her in the dark and try to tear at her flesh.

  Out of all the nightmares, her most feared is recapping Dylan’s death. She wasn’t out there that tragic night, so she doesn’t know the details of what happened. She thinks that is the problem. In her dreams, he has died in all different ways, none of which has given her any solace and no matter how much she tries, she can never save him.

  It takes a while like it usually does, but she finally drifts off to sleep.

  ***

  Anna-Marie opens her eyes and stretches her arms high above her head. She turns her head to look in the direction of the clock to see what time it is, but instead all she sees is a darkened forest encased in fog.

  “Where the hell am I?” she asks herself as she sits up and looks around.

  It appears to be almost dawn and she is outside, lying on the cool grassy ground in what looks to be a clearing surrounded by woods. There is nothing familiar to her whatsoever.

  She stands up and spins around in a circle considering what to do. Panic rises in her even more to see there is no way out of this clearing, except through the dark forest, but then what? What is on the other side of all this foliage?