The Dreamer

by E. J. Mellow

  “It’s the fact that I don’t dream, Dev. That’s right,” I say, seeing his eyes widen a little. “I’ve never remembered a dream my whole life and then suddenly, bam!” I slap my hands together for emphasis. “I get hit by lightning and I’m here every night? And I know what excuse you’re going to give,” I say, putting my hand up when I see him about to respond. “I’ve been telling myself the same excuse up until yesterday. You’re going to say that the lightning caused me to finally remember my dreams, that it messed up my brain. Well, I have news for you. I just had my follow-up with the hospital, and everything checked out. There’s nothing wrong with me!”

  Throughout my ramble, Dev hasn’t moved a muscle, and he still doesn’t once I’ve finished. We both stand glaring at each other in silence, each of our bodies pulsing with frustration. His eyes are hard and all consuming. Both of our breathing is ragged, and one of his hands twitches at his side as if he wants to move it toward me, but he stops before that can happen.

  My body sways in his direction, yearning to close the distance and touch him, spread my hand against a chest I know is solid muscle. By some miracle I don’t. Which is definitely, definitely a good thing, because in this moment I hate him.

  Dev takes in a breath and leans his body away from mine, his face emptying of anything it might have held before. He now regards me with a cool, calculated measure. I take a staggering step back. Say something, damn it!

  “Prior to coming here, I was informed that some of my peers want to speak with you. They are called the Vigil. I’m to bring you to them.” His voice holds no evidence that he heard a word of what I just said or that he felt the mind-aching heat crackling between us.

  “Are you serious right now?” I can’t help my mouth gaping open in astonishment. “Are you really going to ignore everything I just said!?” For the love of everything holy! I can’t believe this! I just can’t believe it. Turning away, I try to rein in all the frustrated rage I have balled up inside. I take in a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself. “Who are the Vigil and what do they want to talk about?”

  “I honestly don’t know what they want,” he says, not seeming too pleased by this. “And I’m sure they’ll tell you who they are once I bring you to them.”

  “Well, I’m not going anywhere until you answer my questions. I’ve had enough of this, Dev! Are you going to do that? Are you going to answer me?” I ask in a way that’s more a desperate plea than an angry question. He looks into my eyes, and for the first time I see an emotion other than cold resolve. I see pain.

  My stomach tightens as I watch him shake his head. “No, I’m not. At least not yet.”

  With those words, the tears I held back with all my might brim my eyes. “I hate you,” I whisper and turn away so he can’t see me cry.

  “Molly.” Dev moves to put his arms around me.

  “Don’t touch me!” I scream and shove him away. He moves back, shocked. Were we really just entangled in each other’s arms two nights ago?

  I don’t know why I thought he’d finally give me answers, but in the pit of my stomach I’m certain that there was truth in the things I said to him. I know this place isn’t just a dream, and I feel betrayed at whatever friendship he made me believe we had. I need to get out of here. I need to be alone.

  The walls seem to close in on me, and my chest squeezes with each second I try to hold back the breakdown that will inevitably overtake my body. I search the room in desperation.

  “What are you doing?” Dev moves closer in concern, this time not attempting to touch me. “I need you to calm down. We need to talk to the Vigil.”

  “Screw you!” I need to get out of here, and fast. I know I’m being irrational and stubborn and impulsive, and for the first time in my life, I don’t care.

  I look at the only exit to my cell and wonder if what I’m about to do will work.

  Letting the familiar energy wash quickly through me, I stare at the door. My heart races, and I let out a breath of relief when it melts away, revealing a darkened field beyond. Without another thought or glance at Dev, I run forward and through the portal, instantly feeling the fresh night air settle over me.

  I turn when Dev calls my name and watch him rush forward. I hardly have to think it before the opened space to the room on the other side quickly closes with a snap, shutting him in and leaving me standing in the field next to my tree, my sanctuary.

  Utterly alone.

  I’m on my knees, letting the tears course out of my body, when the world around me rocks back and forth. Gasping, I dig my fingers into the dirt to balance myself. What’s going on? Looking around in panic, I feel the ground beneath me shudder like an earthquake. Then instantly, without any warning, my body is viciously immersed in a pool of freezing water. My mind screams with the sensation of drowning. Right before I’m about to suffocate, I wake with a gasp.

  Spluttering and greedily taking oxygen into my lungs, I lay in my bed. My clothes are soaked, as are the sheets around me. I stare in fear at the form that hovers over me, empty cooking pot in hand, before I notice it’s Becca.

  It takes me more than a moment to realize that I’m back in my apartment. The room is pitch black save for the ghoulish glow of the TV I left on before I fell asleep, and the sound of the evening news is muffled in my ears. Becca glares down, pinning me with an array of heightened emotions: anger, fear, uncertainty, panic. Her eyes are puffy and rimmed red from crying. She drops the metal pot on the floor with a thud and picks something up from my nightstand, thrusting it in my face.

  “You better have one HELL of an explanation for this.” Her voice seethes and wavers like she’s going to cry again. Shoved in my face is the box of sleeping pills.

  — 21 —

  I STARE FROM the box back to Becca back to the box. I try to say something, but all that escapes is a whimper before I put my hands over my face and cry, something I seem to be doing a lot lately.

  Whatever rage Becca felt clearly melts as she holds me in her arms. Maternally rocking me back and forth, she rubs my back and makes calming shushing sounds. I lie there unmoving, and like all great cries, the emotions that brought on the pain and tears settle into a dull fog in my chest. Staring into my depressingly dark apartment, I feel almost nothing. Almost, because a new wave of emotions prickle up my spine as I take in the knowledge that all of this—waking up in my apartment after taking sleeping pills, feeling a need to take sleeping pills in the first place to go to an imaginary land, and the fact that I still have a strong belief that this imaginary land is real—can only mean one thing.

  I’m officially deranged.

  “Babe,” Becca whispers softly to me. “I’m really going to need you to explain this to me. Saying this probably won’t help, but I’m freaking out here.”

  “I know.” My voice is hoarse from crying. I also now know why I had that strange feeling like I was forgetting something before I went to sleep. I completely forgot it was my first day back at work. How could I forget that? I’m never that irresponsible—at least, I wasn’t in the past. Could I mess up my life any more? My throat tightens with the desire to bawl all over again.

  “I mean, all day I’ve been out of my mind.” Becca rakes her hand through her hair. “You didn’t show up to work, and Jim came over at lunch saying he’d been trying to reach you since ten, that you weren’t answering any e-mails or calls. I tried calling you over and over and you didn’t pick up. At first I thought maybe you decided not to come in, but I knew you’d let me know if that was the case. Then I reached out to Jared after work to see if maybe you guys played hooky or something, but he told me that he hadn’t heard from you all day either, and he’d also reached out because you guys had plans for tonight, but you never responded…I started getting really worried. I kept trying to come up with a logical reason for why you just went MIA, but after a while I couldn’t take it anymore. I came over, buzzed at your door for a good thirty minutes, and finally let myself in with the spare keys you gave me.” Sh
e lets out a shaky breath. “And then I saw you…just lying in your bed, with no lights on. I kept calling your name but you didn’t wake up…” She pauses and I can hear her holding back tears. I tighten my grip on her.

  “You were just laying there, Mols. You looked like you were dead, and then I saw the sleeping pills next to your bed and I lost it. I tried shaking you awake and nothing worked. I’ve never been so fucking scared in my life. That’s when I got a pot of water and threw it on you. Thank God the movies taught me that trick.” She tries to laugh, but the fear is still there.

  I can’t believe I put her through all this. And Jared—I completely forgot we had plans tonight. Does he still expect us to hang out? I couldn’t possibly entertain that idea right now. The very real fact that I’ll have to explain myself to him makes me want to change my name and move out of the country.

  I prop up from Becca’s lap and look into her frightened, worry-stained green eyes.

  “I don’t think saying I’m sorry would even cover this in the slightest. But I am—I’m really sorry for making you worry.” More tears push on the back of my eyes, but I don’t let them escape. The sooner I can convince her I’m not actually losing my mind, the better. If only I could convince myself.

  “Just tell me what’s going on. Why did you take sleeping pills? Were you…did you take them to…”

  “No, no.” I grab her hand.

  “Then what?”

  I regard Becca, my friend, my sister. The one person in the whole world who knows I still keep my childhood blankie tucked under my mattress, knows the exact combination of food and movies to bring me when I’m mending a broken heart, the girl who let me play my favorite song on repeat for a week in college, who probably knows more about myself than I do. I look at her and for once have no idea what to say.

  “You’re going to think I’m crazy.” My voice sounds small after mustering up the courage to tell the truth.

  “Shhh, no I won’t.” She places her arm on my shoulder, eyes troubled.

  “Trust me…you will.”

  “Molly,” Becca admonishes.

  I take in a breath, trying to figure out how to begin telling her all that has happened without condemning me to a mental hospital. “Ever since the accident…I’ve been having these dreams.” I watch Becca carefully, fearfully. She stares back reassuringly and inclines her head for me to continue. I swallow. “These dreams that…you’re going to think I’m nuts. But they feel so real.”

  “Are these the same ones you were telling me about before?” she asks, and I nod. “What do you mean they feel real?”

  “I mean they feel real, Becca, as in, when I go to sleep, it’s like I’m waking up and living another life. Like I have two lives. It’s just so…confusing.”

  She stays silent a moment. “So you—so you took sleeping pills so you could go to sleep and be back in…that life?” Extreme concern is etched on her face now, and I can’t blame her.

  “I don’t really know why I took them.” Yes I do. I make a frustrated sound. “I knew you’d think I was crazy.”

  Because I am.

  “Molly, I’m sorry. I’m just…I’m trying to understand this, that’s all. It’s not like you to act like this.” She shifts her weight on the bed. “Why did you want to go back…to sleep?” Her face is impassive again.

  “To see him,” I say without thinking.

  “Him?”

  We’re interrupted by the buzzing of my door. Becca curses under her breath.

  “What?”

  She stands, moving toward the buzzer. “I completely forgot I told Jared I was coming over to see if you were here and that he said he was going to meet me.”

  I think I’m going to vomit. “Well don’t let him in!” My mind spins in circles. I can’t begin to deal with seeing Jared right now on top of everything else.

  “I have to let him know you’re okay.”

  “Don’t answer the door. Pretend like I’m not here.” I’m grasping at straw after desperate straw. The buzzer rings out again. Shit!

  “Molly, I can’t do that. He was crazy worried about you, and you guys did have plans tonight. But I’ll figure out a way to get rid of him.” She buzzes him up.

  I glance around my apartment and down at my soaked clothes. Shit, shit, shit!

  “How are we going to explain why I’m all wet?!” I get up, searching for any clothes nearby I can throw on. Before I get too far, my door bursts open and Jared strides in. He looks edible, wearing his perfectly tailored skinny gray suit and tie. His cheeks are flushed red from rushing up my stairs, and his hazel eyes are wide with worry. They find me and hold still.

  My stomach drops out, and I have absolutely no idea how to handle this situation. Jared’s gaze flickers around my apartment, taking in the closed-in, dark space, Becca standing in the middle of the room looking awkward and still concerned, and then back to me in what I can only imagine is a disheveled state of matted-down hair and drenched pajamas.

  “What happened?” Panicked confusion is heavy in each word. He walks forward but seems hesitant to touch me. Pain hits between my ribs.

  “It was a false alarm,” Becca says, covering up her worry with a well-crafted casual air. “She had a bad case of the stomach bug and was out of it all day.” I couldn’t have thought of a better lie, given the fact that I truly feel like I’m about to be sick.

  Jared eyes me shrewdly. “Why are you all wet?”

  Becca laughs lightly behind us. “I was bringing Molly a glass of water and tripped. You should have seen her face. If she wasn’t recovering from puking all day, I might still have been laughing when you walked in.”

  “Why is there a cooking pot on the ground?” he asks, not buying any of it.

  Crap! I have to remember he’s a lawyer and lives in the details. Becca gives me helpless wide eyes behind Jared.

  “Oh, I put that there in case I couldn’t make it to the bathroom,” I say matter-of-factly. Becca quietly lets out a breath and gives me a quick thumbs-up. Despite the situation, I smile.

  Seeing my grin, Jared’s whole mood instantly lightens, and he wraps an arm around my shoulder. The pain I felt from his hesitation to touch me subsides. Even though I can’t blame him—I would have been running for the Holland Tunnel by now.

  “You look awful,” he says gently.

  “Gee, thanks,” I say dryly, and he laughs. So does Becca, except hers seems forced. I give her a hard look.

  “You know what I mean.” He places a warm kiss on the top of my head. “Are you feeling any better? I had no idea what was going on. I didn’t know why you weren’t returning my calls and texts. If I knew you were sick, I would have been here earlier.”

  I’m slow to answer, my mind still all over the place, and being this close to Jared, I’m distracted by the smell of his familiar cologne.

  Luckily Becca is there, once again, to save me. “She put her phone on silent. That’s why she didn’t get any of our calls. She said she was literally living in the bathroom all day.”

  “Babe.” Jared hooks me under his chin. I feel horrible lying to him.

  “Yeah, not pretty. In fact, you should probably go. We don’t want you to get contaminated by her nasty illness.” Becca walks to the door, getting ready to open it. She’s acting a little too rushed, and Jared watches her questioningly.

  “I’m not going anywhere. I know how to take care of a sick person like the best of them, and I’m sure you’re not as inclined to rub her feet as I am?” He raises an eyebrow at Becca, asking her to prove him wrong.

  “All right, that’s not fair.” She places a hand on her hip. “I might not be down to oiling up our dear Molly here, but I think she’d rather have a friend that’s not going to lose a boner over seeing her this sick and indisposed.”

  “Becca!” I shriek in embarrassment. Who knew I could still blush with everything going on?

  Jared laughs and rubs my shoulder. “It’s okay, Mols. I am a grown man—I’ve heard worse.” He turns
back to Becca. “As for your fear of my attraction to Molly being altered by this, you couldn’t be farther from the truth. There’s nothing cuter than a little sickling for me to take care of. Plus, I think we’re at the point in our relationship where we’re past all that.”

  We are?

  Guilt dances the fox-trot in my belly at what I’m about to do. “Jared, Becca’s right.”

  “What?” He gently moves me to face him. “But we had plans to hang out tonight. I don’t mind staying in and taking care of you.”

  “I know. It’s just…I do feel really gross. I mean, look at me.” I showcase my saggy wet clothes and limp hair.

  “I don’t care about that.”

  “I know, but I do.” I try tucking my disheveled hair behind my ear.

  The room is silent for a moment.

  “So you want me to leave?” Jared says low, just to me. I can hear the hurt in his voice.

  “Yes, but not because I don’t want you here!” I rush to explain when his body stiffens. “I still really don’t feel well, and I’m a mess, and I just want to sleep, and…” I don’t know what else to say. I need him to leave. I need both of them to leave actually, but I know Becca is a way harder nut to crack than Jared. I concentrate on the floor, unable to meet his eyes. To see the sadness there.

  “Okay…I get it.” Jared stands a little taller now, his voice laced with something I’ve never heard in it before. Anger? Bitterness? Whatever it is, I don’t like it.

  “I’m really sorry. It has nothing to do with you.” I rest my hand on his arm, taking a step closer. “I appreciate the gesture of you wanting to stay, I really do. And I’m sorry…I’m sorry me getting sick ruined our plans for tonight.” My guilt grows fatter with each lie. “I just think Becca is better for this…at least for the moment. Please, don’t be mad?”

  Jared holds my gaze, searching, and then lets out a sigh. “I’m not mad at you.” He says the words, but they don’t sound believable. “I’m just…disappointed.”