I awoke with a start thinking I’d heard a noise coming from the kitchen. I crept to the kitchen, listening intently through the stillness of my apartment. I peered around the corner and held my breath.
Plink, plink, plink.
I felt relieved when I realized the sound I’d heard, was water dripping from the sink faucet. I left the kitchen and went to retrieve my clothes from the dryer, hoping I wouldn’t have to restart it a second time. Some days, when the dryers were having a bad day, they would take more than one cycle to dry everything.
The scent of fabric softener hung in the air making the laundry room warm and humid. There was only one machine in use, humming as it tossed the garments around in a circular motion. Then the dryer buzzed, the sound echoing throughout the dim basement. As I walked past an elderly woman emptying the contents of her white plastic basket into one of the washers, one of the lights above flickered and then went out.
“Oh great,” I mumbled.
The lady looked at me and her thin lips turned up in a lopsided grin as she picked up her empty basket and walked out of the room, leaving me alone to finish my tedious chore. I opened the dryer door and felt around. My clothes were dry and warm. I felt grateful I wouldn’t have to spend another eight quarters on the machine. I had just put the last of my laundry in the basket when I felt someone’s eyes burning into my flesh. With my heart racing, I turned around quickly, ready to….to attack. My brow glistened from the cold sweat suddenly breaking through and all over my skin. I squinted, trying to adjust my vision to see into the dark corners of the room. I inspected the basement thoroughly, searching even in spaces no one could fit, but found nothing. I was relieved, but also annoyed to find I was the only one down there. Still, I picked up my basket and hurried up the stairs to my apartment.
The clothes were still warm from the heat of the dryer as I hung them in the closet. When the chore was completed, I sat down with one of the books I hadn’t yet finished reading. I thought that maybe distracting myself with fictional stories of heroes and villains would help my nerves, but it was like adding thunder to the rain and it put me more on edge. Falling asleep was a challenge as well, yet I somehow managed to fall into a deep sleep. I didn’t have any dreams, visions, or nightmares. Just black nothingness enveloped me while I slept.
fourteen
The mild summer day promised warm sunshine and gave me a chance to finally make it to the beach. Fortunately, public transportation could get me to most places around town. Shadowmist had two buses that transported passengers to various destinations. The bus driver had a light schedule that day and agreed to take me all the way out to Brigantine Beach. I walked off the bus and made my way to the water. The light tan-colored sand sparkled in the sunlight and the blue waves rolled onto the shore. It was a lovely beach, but it couldn’t compare to the shore in which I had traveled to in my dreams. I wanted the sand to be white and it to glimmer like diamonds. I yearned for blue water as smooth and clear as glass. I sighed at the thought of him. It would be heavenly to be walking the real beach with him by my side. Instead, I walked the water’s edge alone with only memories keeping me company.
The water was cool as it washed over my bare feet. I looked out to the vast ocean silently wishing I could dive in and let the sea take me. I walked closer to the line separating the sea from the shore. I stepped in, ignoring the shivers spreading over me. I waded through the salty water, gradually moving further inward. My eyes were fixed on the infiniteness of the sea, meditating only on how it stretched beyond the horizon, never ending. The freezing water clung to my clothing, wrapping its icy embrace around my waist. Stringy strands of seaweed floated underneath the surface, getting tangled around my legs. I stopped, my toes pressing down in the sandy ocean bottom. The sun melted into the sky turning the heavens a deep blue. I stared at the lights gleaming from the stars above, hypnotized by their brilliance.
I looked back over my shoulder to the sandy bank of the beach. A crowd of people stood along the shore holding lanterns. I could see the lights dimming as the group started walking away as I floated through the dark waters. I was no longer walking but being carried over the waves on a solid surface. It was a rectangular plank made from the twisted tree limbs of a Weeping willow. My body and clothes were dry, except for the edges of the long blue gown that fell over the sides of the wooden plank. I remained lying on my back, unable to move as I drifted through the rippling water to my final resting place.
As the inexplicable thought entered my mind, I began to force my arms and legs to move. I pushed off the board and soared up to the sky. I felt myself suspended in the air above the ocean and my body still resting on the tree casket. I could feel myself wanting to rise further up past the heavens, but I desperately pushed towards my motionless body. I saw I was wearing a deep blue silk gown. A waterfall of black curls framed my face. My hands rested on my abdomen, one over the other. My eyes were closed, and it appeared as though I was sleeping, but I knew I was staring down at my dead body. With relentless might, I propelled my soul down, crashing into my lifeless body. A rush of icy water swept over me as I plunged into the ocean. I was running out of air as I struggled to swim up to the surface. I emerged from the water, the blinding sunlight warming me. I looked around and saw that I was miles out in the sea.
How did I get so far out and how am I getting back? I panicked. I began to hyperventilate as I swam frantically to where I thought the shore should be. I couldn’t be sure in which direction was land as endless water surrounded me. Water splashed around as my arms and legs moved through the waves. I began to slow down as my body grew tired from swimming. Salty tears mixed with ocean water saturated my cheeks and my dire situation seemed hopeless. The fear of being stranded in the middle of the ocean suddenly swelled in my chest as I thought about the creatures lurking in the waters. I descended under as I flung my arms in an uncontrolled frenetic rhythm. I swallowed salt water, coughing and gagging. My movements slowed, my mind becoming foggy and sluggish. I became painfully aware that I would not survive and would sink to my watery death. I welcomed it as I drifted down. I felt my body hit the ocean floor. I forced my eyes open and at first, I didn’t comprehend what I was seeing. Hovering over me was the silhouette of a man. He was saying something to me, but I couldn’t make out the words. His wide eyes looked down at me and he shook my shoulders.
I focused my vision on the light shining down from the darkening sky. I lifted my hand to rub my eyes and my arm felt heavy and sore. The fading sunlight was the bedroom light fixture in the ceiling. I looked around dazed and realized I was back in my room, in my own bed. My once soaked hair and clothes were dry. I remembered walking into the water and almost drowning. But I didn’t remember how I made it back to shore or back home. I sat up, trying to force the details to come back, but all that I could recall was the feel of the icy water as the waves crashed into me over and over again. As I struggled with trying to make sense of the whole situation, a compelling thought overwhelmed me.
It had all been a dream.
Yes. I had dreamt I had gone to the beach, walked into the water and nearly drowned. There was no other explanation. I was guilty of having strange and vivid dreams; this had been another one of those reveries. I was satisfied and relieved with the rationalization that I had a logical answer. I shook my head and laughed at myself for almost thinking something supernatural or other unexplained phenomena had occurred. Feeling as if I had lost some measurable amount of time, I returned to bed in hopes of no more dreams. Fortunately, no more came. No dreams of drowning in the sea and no dreams of the perfect stranger. For the first time in months, my sleep was quiet and peaceful.
fifteen
S
ummer quickly gave way to fall as the weather cooled and the trees responded by letting go of their hold on the leaves. I awoke with the renewed sense of loss, although I wasn’t sure what I was missing. Maybe it was the absence of the dreams that left me feeling empty and sad. It felt like an eternity since th
e last time I had seen the beautiful stranger in my dreams. I sat up in my bed hugging my knees and letting my thoughts drift to some faraway place that had never existed. I understood that I missed the only thing close to love I had ever known, even if it only had existed in my heart and in my head. It was real to me and that was all that mattered.
I missed him.
I missed the way he looked, the way he smiled, and the way he moved. He walked with the stealth of a cat; each step he took was careful and calculated. I missed everything about him, but most of all I missed the possibility of him. I was more in love with the memory of him than in love with him, for there was no real him. He was and had been a fictional entity made up by my fragile psyche.
I finally managed to pull myself out of my fantasy. The sun was up and shining through the bedroom window. I stretched my arms and got out of bed. I was feeling optimistic about my first day of class. I was doing something to get my life together, starting with college. I’d spent the summer working extra hours to save up for when I would cut back at the library to focus on school.
I walked over to the closet, the floors creaking underneath the weight of my steps. I pulled out a worn pair of blue jeans. They were slightly faded and had ripped patches on the thighs. I slid into the jeans and pulled a pink V-neck shirt over a white camisole. A light jacket, to warm me against the cool autumn weather, and a pair of black canvas shoes finished off my first day of school outfit. I walked through my apartment and inhaled the clean fragrance of the air freshener. The old musty odor hadn’t lingered in the rooms as I had feared. After a few months of living there and lots of scrubbing, the place had a nice scent and feel to it. The walls still needed to be repainted but the second-hand window curtains I had purchased gave it the nice cozy feel I had grown to love.
I slipped my arm through the shoulder strap of my bag and headed out the door. I sat on the steps waiting for Kami. I didn’t own a car, but Kami offered to give me a ride to school.
“Just for the first week. After that I will take the bus.” I had told her when I finally gave in to her offer. My first class started half an hour before Kami’s, and I hated that she would have to wait around for her class to start.
“Really Analey, I don’t mind. I promise. It will give me extra time to study.” Kami tilted her head to one side, pushing her lips out into a subtle pout. She had convinced me to accept. I didn’t feel too guilty when I saw the genuine smile it put on her face. Kami had jumped up and down like a small child and flung her arms around my neck. I was always surprised about our friendship. I didn’t know how it worked out so well, but I was grateful it did.
I stood up when I heard Kami’s car coming around the corner. She came to stop in front of the building (the construction had been completed) and with a wide grin on her face, she waved at me.
“Hey,” Kami greeted me then leaned over to give me a hug.
“Hi. Thanks again for giving me a ride,” I said.
“Don’t mention it, babe.” Kami twirled a strand of her perfect golden blonde hair around her finger, her other hand on the steering wheel. The little sports car zoomed swiftly through the streets of Shadowmist.
The drive from my apartment to the college took fifteen minutes. Kami parked in the student parking lot on the west side of campus. Her blonde hair whipped over her shoulder as she spun around and shut the car door. We walked up the short walkway to the building, then through the tinted glass doors of John Hall. I rubbed my fingertips over the hem of my pink shirt and looked around the foyer. The butter cream walls were decorated with bright colored abstract art on large canvases. The colors in the paintings brought back painful memories of my dreams.
“My class is in the next building, so I will catch up with you later.” Kami flung her backpack over her shoulder and walked towards the front doors we had just entered through.
“Have a good first day,” I said. I trudged down the hall to my first college class. I smiled at the realization that it was actually happening; I was a college student. A sense of pride swelled inside me as I considered the idea that I was actively doing something to better myself. I was no longer just an orphan from Havencrest, the poor baby who had been abandoned at the hospital minutes after being born. I wasn’t the weird girl who had been plagued with strange visions and dreams. I was Analey Rose, a student at Ocean Mist University. My smile remained on my face as I skipped the rest of the way to class.
My first class was U.S. History. I surveyed the seating options from the threshold of the classroom door. The instructor stood at the front of the class, a green chalk board behind him. His arms were crossed over his chest as he waited for the hum of the conversations to die down. He welcomed me in with a wave of his hand. There were not many open seats left. I weaved through the rows of chairs and found an empty seat at the end of the second row. I hoped the insipid atmosphere was due only to the basic décor of beige walls, laminate floors, and wooden tables. I guessed the renovations hadn’t yet reached this part of the campus. The professor watched me as I found my seat and sat down. He was a round man with a round face. His naturally graying brown hair, receding hair line, and wrinkles around his eyes and mouth suggested he was probably nearing his sixtieth birthday. A little boring, his manner of speaking monotonous and he had two first names.
“Good Morning, my name is Professor Mark Albert.” His round wire rimmed glasses kept falling to the edge of his nose in a most annoying way. “Welcome to U.S. History,” Mr. Albert said.
As his voice began fading into the background, I unintentionally turned my attention to the ridges of my subconscious. I was determined not to think of my dreams or the guy in those dreams, but the professor made it too easy to let my mind wander.
I thought about the last time I had seen him in my dreams. It had been an incredible vivid, lucid dream. In the dream, I was walking along the beach when I saw him. Salty sea water dripped from his dark blonde hair, the soaked ends grazing against his jawline. He raked his fingers through the wet strands, pushing them back away from his face. His shirt and dark blue jeans clung to his body after his apparent ocean swim. He walked towards me as the sun was dipping down into the horizon behind him.
I kept thinking about the perfect stranger as I tuned out the drone of Mr. Albert’s voice explaining the syllabus and grading policy. The sound of the other students pushing chairs away from the desks, jerked me out of my daydream. I gathered the papers Mr. Albert had handed out to the class and stuffed them into my bag as I avoided the scolding eye of the professor. It wasn’t how I had wanted to start my semester, distracted and inattentive. The next class was like the one before. I tried paying more attention in the next one but found it nearly impossible. I kept seeing him as he was on the beach.
sixteen
I left the campus oblivious to the fact that I was supposed to meet Kami for lunch. I thought about it sometime later when I had arrived at Dempsey’s Diner where Kian and I used to have lunch. It was a few blocks from the campus and the walk was a welcomed distraction from my erratic state of mind. I pushed the door open and the bells chimed announcing my arrival. I walked up to the counter, took a seat on the red stool, and picked up the two-sided plastic menu. I didn’t know what I was hungry for, or if I was even hungry at all, so I just stared at it not really seeing it. My eyes started focusing on the lunch specials when the feeling of being watched wrapped around me. I hadn’t felt it in such a long time that I had forgotten about it. It was as if I could physically feel someone’s touch on me. I felt it first as it lightly brushed against my back, then it skimmed over my arms, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. I felt a rush of heat as the sensation swept through my hair and settled on the back of my head. I resisted the urge to look back because I knew even though it felt as if someone was standing directly behind me, there would be no one there. I ignored it and continued to stare at the choices on the menu.
“Grilled cheese, hamburger, BLT, chicken strips,” I read the menu choices out loud in hopes of
distracting myself, but the feeling only grew stronger until I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I turned around and looked at the table behind me. There were two empty chairs and half of a burger with a couple of onion rings left on the plate on the table. I looked over my right shoulder and saw the dark-haired bus boy picking up plates and putting them into a gray tub. I turned around in the stool and moved my eyes around the diner. I didn’t see anything unusual or anyone suspicious at first, then my gaze went to a booth in the back, next to the window facing the street. That’s when I saw him sitting there in the booth. It took a moment for my mind to register what I was seeing, or who I was seeing. At first, I thought I was dreaming again but after squeezing my eyes shut and opening them, I realized that the tall guy with dark blonde hair and brown eyes (a shade darker than I remembered) was really there, his gaze fixed and burning into me. He was wearing a dark gray shirt, which fit too tight over his solid arms, and dark blue jeans. He didn’t take his eyes off me and I couldn’t take mine off him. I stared at him, my eyes not blinking and my heart racing. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It had to be another dream, because he was looking at me as if I was someone he knew. But it wasn’t possible for him to know me for we had never met, and it was I who had seen him in my dreams. I averted my gaze away from his piercing eyes and took a deep breath. I looked back up at him and he was still sitting there, his eyes focused only on me. He slowly moved out of the booth seat and stood up, placing the palm of his right hand on the table as if to steady himself. It felt like minutes had passed before I took another breath and he took a step. My palms felt clammy and perspiration broke out on my forehead as I sat on the stool waiting for him to move. All I could do was stare and wait. He began walking towards me, taking slow strides as he closed the distance between us. He was within ten feet from me when he stopped in the middle of the room. I carefully slid off the stool and stood next to it, using it to keep my balance. I looked around the diner and business was normal as usual. Silverware clanked against plates as the customers ate their lunch. The waitress was taking orders and the cooks were preparing the food. I glanced at the stranger from my dreams again and he was walking towards me. I stumbled back and felt the edge of the counter press against my back. My hands balled into tight fists and I bit down on my lip, not sure how I would react if he came any closer to me.
Edge of Forever: The Death and Life of Analey Rose (The Immortal Souls Book 1) Page 11
