Dream Haunter

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Dream Haunter Page 23

by Shayna Corinne


  Chapter Twenty- One

  The next morning Sam awakes to find Melody sprawled out on top of him; her head lay under his chin while her leg is flopped across his. He rubs her back, slowly trying to ease her from her slumber. She moans lifting herself up just enough to look at him.

  “Morning,” she yawns.

   He smirks, looking up at how her bright red hair falls over her face like soft autumn drapes. “Have a rough night?” he asks, tempted to play with her hair.

  She sighs dramatically as she flops down on her back beside him, pressing the heels of her palms into her eye sockets. “I dreamed all night.”

   Sam’s stomach goes queasy as he props himself up on his elbow, peering over her. “About… him?” he asks.

   Melody nibbles on her lip, nodding. “Yes and no, yes he was in them but they were just your run of the mill night mares, nothing like when Jet is actually there.”

  He nods, hoping now since Adam is in the real world maybe he won’t be able to steal Melody away in her dreams. She rolls her head over to look at him, her hair flopping over her face.

  “Sam, are you ok? You look like your minds somewhere else,” she asks.

   He shrugs, trying not to think too hard about what she could have been dreaming about and if Jet was in them. “Um, I told my parents that we were in town, if that’s alright.”

  Melody tilts her head, her brow furrowing. “Are you sure you’re going to be ok? I mean the last time you saw them…”

  “I know, I know. But they’re my parents; I can’t let one fight cut them off from my life forever.”

  Melody pulls his face close to hers, kissing his nose before standing up. “Just remember that if things get too stressful for you, we can leave,” she reminds him.

  She grabs Sam’s hands, pulling him to his feet. He rests his hand on the small of her back, leaning down to help Melody pack the few belongings that they have been lugging around for the past few days.

  ……………………………………………………..

  They leave the bright orange motel room around seven in the morning, glad to be rid it.

  Sam insists on driving the whole way there, even with Melody bribing for the steering wheel. She climbs out of the car at one of the many rest stops lining the interstate, only to come back and find Sam dead asleep in the driver’s seat. She leans in the driver’s side door, pushing his hair off his forehead.

  “Sam, just let me drive, you’re obviously tired,” she commands.

  He moans, crossing his arms at his chest. “I just need a little nap, I’ll be fine.”

  She rolls her eyes, walking across the graveled parking lot to the vending machines that are conveniently nestled in-between the men and women’s bathrooms. She riffles through her pockets, finding a crinkled ten dollar bill in her right pocket, buying three humongous bottles of caffeine filled soda, taking the change from that and buying a few  big boxes of some off brand hot candy in the vending machine next to her.

  She balances the bottles in-between her index and middle fingers in each hand, holding them by their plastic necks, while she grips the boxes of spicy candy under her arms. She places one of the black-brown bottles on the roof of the Station Wagon, which has become covered in dirt and dust due to their days of travel.  She taps her index finger on the window closest to Sam. He jerks awake, rolling the window down.

  “What are you doing…?” he begins to ask.

   She hands him one of the pop bottles and a few of red, spicy jelly beans.  Sam raises his eye brow, scratching the side of his face as she drops the bottle on to his lap then holds her palm out with the little red bean shaped candy resting onto of her skin.

  “I don’t want you falling asleep while you’re driving,” she explains.

   He rolls his eyes, twisting the top of the soda bottle, letting the fizz ring out before he unscrews it the rest of the way, taking a quick slurp before, unknowingly, taking the red beans. His eyes water as he steals the box from Melody’s hands.

  “Seriously? Gawww! Melody!” Sam shouts as he scrapes his tongue with a napkin.

  Melody skips to the other side of the car, plopping down in the passenger seat. “Well, you’ll stay awake now!” she laughs and kisses Sam’s burning lips.

  He starts up the car and they drive for another six hours with Melody handing Sam spicy jelly beans and pop.

  …………………………………………………

  Sam pulls into the looped driveway that sits in front of the brown brick house that his parents had moved to when he started high school. He stretches his neck to check his reflection in the review mirror, making sure his mother won’t complain about how tired or mangy he looks. He walks around to the passenger door; the smell of barbeque hangs in the air, as he opens the door for Melody. She steps out, linking arms with him.

  “You ready for this, Sam?” she asks.

  He kisses her cheek. “Yes.”

   They venture up the stone walk way, daises line the outside of its dark pavement surface. Sam has never really liked the fact that everything has been handed to him, so even though his parents are the ones paying for his aristocratic apartment, he still works hard and pays for everything else, or if he doesn’t need anything he gives it away.

  “Oh Sammy, you’re looking so grown up!” Sam’s mother, a short blond woman with curly hair that rests at her shoulders and the same leafy green eyes that Sam has, greats.

  She attacks Sam’s unguarded face with kisses, her soft pink lip stick marking his cheek. He slips away from her grasp, wrapping his arm around Melody’s waist.

  “And you remember Melody, right?” he asks.

  His mother nods, flashing a forced smile, full of perfectly straight white teeth, at Melody. “Yes your girlfriend! How are you doing Melody?” his mother chirps.

  Sam walks his mom to a white suede chair, not wanting to put off what he needs to say. “Mom, Melody and I need to tell you something,” Sam begins to say.

   His dad walks in the room, with their old yellow lab Reese on his heels, and sits down next to his mom in a matching white arm chair.

  “What’s going on?” he asks as he eyes the space in-between Sam and Melody.

  “Sammy was getting ready to tell me something,” Sam’s mom says.

  Mr. Winters rolls his eyes, letting out a huff, “Helen, the boy’s twenty-three years old! Stop calling him Sammy.”

  Sam looks at his embarrassed mother with sympathetic eyes. “I don’t mind being called Sammy, mom.”

  She pats his cheek. “Now, go on, what were you going to tell me?”

  He smiles, lacing fingers with Melody. “Melody and I are in love, and we plan to get married soon.” 

  Unfortunately Sam’s mother gives him the reaction he was praying he wouldn't get.

  She jumps up, her chair falling to the floor behind her, as she points a purple finger nail at Melody. “What have you done to my Sammy! You’ve brainwashed him or something?” she shouts before she starts to charge at Melody, her fists clinched and ready to attack.

  Sam puts his arm around Melody, pulling her close. “Mom! I love her; just as much as you love dad.”

  His mother unclenches her fists, eyeing Melody with rage as she pleads with Sam, “Are you sure you’re making the right choice? I mean you’re young and…”

  Sam’s dad cuts her off, “Helen! Stop that! He’s not a child anymore! Can’t you see that?”

  His mother tightens her jaw as she storms off into the kitchen, pushing the wooden swinging door open as she motions his dad to follow.

  Shouting booms from the kitchen, right before Mrs. Winters goes running up the stairs to her bedroom. His dad slowly walks back over to Melody and Sam, shaking his head which causes his short, light brown hair to stick up in random ways.

  “Don’t let your love end. Your mother and I loved each other like you two do, when we were your age. Then one day I
came home from work and she looked at me in a new way, almost disgusted. I never asked her why she looked at me like that, so we just tumbled right out of our happiness together. Never let something slide like that, even if it’s just a little thing. Always ask how the other ones feeling, I don’t want you to end up like us.” 

  ………………………………………….

  There is no dinner that night. Sam and Melody would have left hours ago if his dad hadn’t begged them to stay the night. So Sam carries their belongings to the basement, noticing that his mother had set up his old room for him, but nowhere for Melody.

  “I'm sorry she yelled at you like that. She’s always kind of babied me,” Sam apologizes as he drops their back packs next to his old dresser.

  Melody just nods, not really knowing what to say; she’s never been able to handle being yelled at very well. He grabs blankets from his old closet, arranging them on the floor next to the bed.

  “You can have the bed,”  he says as he lowers himself to the floor.

  She pulls the black and white covers back, crawling underneath them as Sam hits the light switch.

  She lays on her back, staring up at the pitch black ceiling. Her heart stretches and snaps remembering what Sam’s mom had said to her, and how true it was. A tear rolls down her cheek, she doesn’t deserve him; even his mother doesn’t think so. She begins to sob uncontrollably; each time she goes to wipe her tears away more come.

  “Melody?” Sam calls out as he sits up, reaching his arm onto the bed, searching for her, “Melody, are you ok?”

  She shakes her head, even though he can’t see her in the darkness. “I don’t deserve you. I’ve hurt you so much and you’re still so perfect and…” her voice breaks off into another set of sobs. 

  Sam climbs up on to the bed next to her, pushing back the soft white sheets that reek of his mother’s favorite lavender laundry soap, holding her tight against his chest.

  “Don’t say that,” he whispers, “I don’t want anyone else but you. I don’t care if we have moments where things don’t make sense or aren’t perfect, because at the end of the day I know that I love you.”

  He kisses her hair, squeezing her tight, repeating over and over that he loves her until she stops shaking.

  Melody holds him back. “I’ve done you so wrong though…”

  Sam shakes his head, gripping her arms. “I’ve seen what happens to you when he’s around, and that’s not you. This is you,” he brushes her hair off of her face, rocking her until they both fall asleep.

   

 

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