Fire and Fantasy: a Limited Edition Collection of Epic and Urban Fantasy

by CK Dawn

  “You’re early today,” Dr. Griffin greeted me as I sat in my usual spot the black leather sofa that was for patients to sit on.

  I shrugged, “I just got into the city early because I was looking for someone nearby.

  She looked up from her notepad that she had been scribbling information on and raised an eyebrow at me.

  Here goes, I thought. “Yeah, it was a boy I met last week.” I paused to see if she would say anything. When she continued to stare at me, I continued. “We ran into each other on the street after my appointment with you last week. He seemed familiar to me so I came looking for him again.” I glanced out of the window and took a breath. “So I ran into him at the coffee shop right up the block and we had a talk.”

  “That sounds like good progress for you.” She said, “you need to talk more to people.”

  I always got confused when she said stuff like that, I never didn’t talk to anyone.

  I smiled slightly, “well you see he thought I was crazy. I told him that I had been dreaming about him.”

  Her eyes grew wide.

  “But the funny thing is,” I paused, “I went to follow him and found him talking to you.”

  She kept her poker face that she was so good at, “I am not sure I know what you are talking about.” She told me.

  “Yeah,” I told her and looked down at my fiddling hands in my lap. “He seemed to really know who you. I guess I upset him.” I looked back up at her, “I was wondering if you could tell me where I could find him.”

  “Amelia, I’m afraid I have to decline.” She frowned.

  I frowned at her.

  “I can’t because I don’t know who it is you are talking about,” she explained.

  I went on to describe Liam and how I had watched them talking on the street, but she continued to insist that she had no idea who he was. Frustrated beyond belief I went on to tell her about Jonah and how he had attacked me in the alley. She showed no reaction other than stern denials even when I told her about how Liam had killed him. When I mentioned the disappearing body, she told me it must have been my imagination. She told me that I might be at the beginning of a psychotic break and that she might need to call my brother so they could figure out what to do about my treatment.

  “Seriously,” I told her. “I’m not crazy.”

  “Just calm down,” she said in a monotone voice that I knew was meant to calm hysterical patients down.

  I closed my eyes as I worked to calm myself down. Hysteria wasn’t something I had ever suffered from. I knew that much.

  For some reason she insisted that there was no Liam and that I had no idea what I was talking about. That it was all part of my dreams and my grief as a result of the death of my parents.

  “You and my brother don’t seem to believe me,” I told her as plainly as I could muster, “but I’m over their deaths and wish you two would see that.”

  She started to say something, but I stopped her.

  “I have already told my brother that I wish to quit seeing you.”

  Dr. Griffin frowned at me, but didn’t reply.

  “If you can’t be honest with me and listen to anything I say then I see no point in continuing these sessions.”

  “I really think you could benefit from more treatment and maybe it is time for you to go into a facility that can help you get your issues under control.”

  I gasped in surprise, “listen to me, I’m okay,” I shook my head, “and there is no way I’m going into the looney bin.”

  “And I have spoken to your brother about this,” she said. “We both agree that you need to continue getting more help.”

  “Thank goodness I’ll be eighteen in nine months,” I muttered to myself.

  She heard me and didn’t say anything else about putting in a mental hospital, “just continue talking to me, and keep writing this stuff down.” She had the nerve to actually smile at me, “you have a vivid imagination and it will just help you progress if you get it all out.”

  I frowned at her this time, “I can’t pretend that I didn’t really dream about him and that I met him.” With my eyes closed I told her, “the dreams are just so real. You really don’t understand them.”

  “Since the dreams are so important to you, I want you to go in for a sleep study,” she said and I started to protest. “It is just here at a hospital in the city and it will be only for one night.”

  “Depending on the results, will you believe me?” I asked her.

  “The study will tell us how much sleep you are getting and how these dreams are affecting your brain.”

  That wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear.

  “Your brother already knows and we can schedule the study for this Friday so that it doesn’t interfere with your school work.”

  I shrugged defeated. If my brother who was my legal guardian agreed with her, then there wasn’t anything I could do to get out of the study she wanted to perform on me while I was asleep.

  Before I left her office, she gave me instructions that I was to arrive at the hospital Friday evening at 8:00 p.m., with no medication or caffeine in my system. She wanted the results to be accurate and those could both mess with my sleep pattern for the night.

  That evening at dinner I told my brother about the test on Friday. Of course, he already knew and expressed his gratitude that I had agreed to the test and hoped that we could get to the bottom of my sleep issues.

  On Friday to make sure that I went in for the test, my brother checked me in himself at the hospital that he interned at.

  Inside the sleep study area of the hospital, a nurse led me to a bed and started hooking wires up to my head and my chest.

  When asked how I had been sleeping lately I had to be honest with her and confess that the only way I had slept the last few nights was with medication. She said that they would only medicate me if it was obvious that I wasn’t going to sleep on my own.

  She gave me the remote to a TV and said that they would be ready as soon as I got tired and fell asleep.

  When I awoke the next morning, a new nurse was on duty and disconnected me from all of the machines. I asked her how my sleep was, but she said that she had just arrived and that my doctors would be in contact with my brother the next week. She did comment though that the nurse before her said that I was a very active sleeper and that she would be surprised if I had gotten any rest at all.

  The comment didn’t surprise me one bit. There were no dreams that woke me up, but I was mentally drained and I could feel it.

  After I got dressed my brother met me in the hall.

  He had a shift that day and said that he would have breakfast with me and that Emily, his girlfriend, would be there shortly to take me home.

  “How was your test?” Emily said rushing up to us as we sat down to eat.

  I smiled at her because she was always really sweet to me. “Okay, I guess. My doctors will be in touch with Jack next week.” I shrugged at her.

  “Well, hopefully it will be okay,” she said naively. I wasn’t sure what all she knew about my sleep patterns or the psychiatrist that I saw so I just thanked her and we finished eating our breakfast.

  “Thanks for breakfast,” I told Jack as we got ready to leave.

  “Yeah, hospital food is the best stuff ever,” Emily told him sarcastically and leaned over to give him a kiss goodbye.

  “Sorry for the food,” he laughed. “Next time we will go somewhere more to your tastes ladies.”

  We laughed as we said our goodbyes and left the hospital.

  Six

  “Who are those guys?” Riley Spencer said getting our attention as she pointed down the school hallway, “they kind of look those church guys who knock on doors.”

  I started to laugh at Riley, who was always funny and said exactly what she thought.

  She was always amusing to be around, and we hadn’t hung out much since we had gotten to high school.

  “I wonder,” she murmured getting serious with a frown
marring her pretty face, and her green eyes squinting at them.

  “No, I doubt it,” her boyfriend Nick said as if he was reading her mind and started to lead her down the hall.

  “Bye guys,” she said as she gave them one last look and tossed her long black hair over her shoulder.

  I always liked Riley at school. She was friendly at school if she wasn’t sleeping in class, but seemed to always stick to a small circle away from school.

  After she was gone I turned around and found two men dressed in suits showing a photo to some of our classmates.

  My stomach started churning and I was sure my breakfast would come up any second on the tiled floor of the school hallway.

  They reminded me of Jonah from the alley.

  When one of the boys turned and pointed in my direction, my fight or flight instinct immediately kicked in and I held tight onto my backpack and quickly walked to the nearest exit.

  “What’s going on?” Arianna yelled after me, but I ignored her and the secretary who tried to stop me from leaving the school.

  My gut told me that they wanted to kill me as much as Jonah did.

  “Here,” a voice said as I walked out of the school.

  I looked up to find Liam on the back of a motorcycle.

  “Here.” He repeated and he tossed me a helmet.

  Without a second thought, I placed the helmet on my head as fast as I could and mounted the bike behind him.

  Just as the doors of the school crashed open, he told me to hold on tight and gunned the engine of the motorcycle. We took off at full speed, as voices shouted for us to stop and come back.

  I held on for dear life and didn’t even bother to look back.

  Fear of falling off the bike consumed my thoughts as he swiftly drove us away from the school.

  Even with my eyes watering from being clenched tightly shut I was sure he was breaking most traffic laws. I refused to find out though my uneasy stomach wouldn’t allow it.

  “You can let go now,” Liam’s voice interrupted the many scenarios of death running through my mind.

  Most of the horrific fantasies ended with my body being scraped up off of the concrete.

  “Amelia,” he said and I realized we had stopped and I slowly opened my eyes and quickly let go of the death grip that I had on him. Embarrassment consumed my mind replacing the thoughts of my impending doom just moments before.

  Looking around I realized we were at the familiar building that held Dr. Griffin’s offices. Surprised at his choice of destination, I turned to look at him.

  “I’m surprised I haven’t lost all feeling in my body,” he muttered before I could question him. Somehow he managed to slip off of the bike and then help me off.

  “Sorry,” I told him as I tried to stand. My knees gave out on me as he grabbed my arm to steady me. “What are we doing here?”

  “We have to see her,” he explained.

  I was sort of surprised that he inadvertently admitted that we both knew her.

  “She won’t tell us anything.” I protested. “She just likes to put me through tests.”

  “Trust me.” He said leading me through the door.

  I stopped my protesting with the hope that I would have my questions answered soon.

  In the psychiatrist’s office, I followed Liam as he walked right past the protesting receptionist.

  “We shouldn’t be too long,” he assured her as he opened the door of the office that she used to see patients.

  Disappointment flooded me though as we discovered the room empty.

  “If you guys would have listened,” the receptionist said from the door. “I would have told you that she isn’t here. She cancelled all of her appointments.”

  Without responding Liam turned and stormed out of the office while, I apologized and thanked the receptionist who was always kind to me before I turned to follow him.

  “What now?” I asked him as I caught up to him outside at his motorcycle.

  He held a hand up to me and put his cell phone to his ear. “Call me, as soon as you get this.” He said into the phone leaving a voicemail message. After he put the phone back in his pocket, he tossed me the helmet again, “What’s your address?” he asked as he put on his own helmet.

  He nodded and said he was familiar with the area and I got on behind him. This time he took off a lot slower than before and I was able to keep my eyes open and my death grip loosened.

  As the wind hit my face, I felt relaxed and free as the city passed by around us and we headed back out to the suburbs where my house was located. On the way to my house, he seemed to take turns and streets that I would have normally not taken. I could only assume it was to make sure that we weren’t followed.

  “Can we park behind the house or in the garage?” he asked as we pulled up in front of the house I shared with my brother.

  “Yeah,” I said and jumped off the back of the motorcycle and used a key from my backpack to open the door of the garage and waited for him to park the bike inside.

  After I shut the garage and made sure it was locked under his orders, I showed him inside the house where he proceeded to go room to room as if he was a police officer making sure that every room in the house was clear.

  “Is there an alarm on the house?”

  “Yeah, it’s set on all of the doors and windows.”

  He nodded.

  “My brother is in med school and has long hours at the hospital at night so he had it installed since I am here alone at night so often.”

  He just nodded and pulled out his cell phone to check it again.

  “Now,” I said slowly, “will you tell me what is going on?”

  He just looked at me.

  “The dreams would be a good place to start, the guy you killed in the alley,” I prompted, “Or Dr. Griffin because I am sure there is something more going on with that infuriating woman.”

  He ran his hands through his hair and sighed while studying the tile floor of the kitchen.

  “Or even the men going around my school this morning with my picture. Or how you knew that they were at my school this morning? Just start somewhere, please.” I looked out at the backyard through the kitchen window, “just tell me that I am not going crazy. That would be a start.”

  The seconds ticked by seeming like hours before he finally spoke, “you’re not going crazy.”

  I looked over at him and found him looking intensely directly at me.

  “And I’m sorry, because it was wrong of Dr. Griffin and myself to make you think you were going crazy.”

  All I could do was nod in acceptance of his apology because it wasn’t something that I expected.

  “Your dreams are very real, I still have nightmares occasionally myself from the dreams I used to have.”

  “You used to have them too?” I asked surprise and relief flooding me because I wasn’t alone in my craziness.

  “Still do, sometimes.” He nodded.

  I smiled and he gave me a skeptical look, “I’m not a lunatic,” I explained and gave a small laugh of relief. “After my parents died two years ago, I started having the dreams and they were so bad they would wake me and my brother up every night. So he started sending me to Dr. Griffin. She prescribed me all kinds of things to sleep. She said that they would clear my mind and keep me from dreaming. But the drugs never lasted long.”

  “I guess the dreams are a good place to start.” He said and sat down at the table in the middle of the kitchen.

  Anxiousness hit me as I hoped to finally get the answers I had wanted for two long sleepless years. “Do you want something to drink?” I asked him. “Or eat?”

  “No, that’s okay.” He replied and I sat down at the table across from him.

  We sat quietly for a few minutes and the silence grew thick with tension as I waited for him to speak. “The dreams?” I prompted him.

  “Yeah,” he frowned, “I have never had to explain them to anyone before. Never thought I would ever have to. Especia
lly to you,” he said shrugging.

  “Why is that?” Confusion consumed me while he looked back down at the tile floor with his wavy black hair covering his face.

  “The dreams,” he said calmly, “they aren’t just dreams.”

  I swallowed in anticipation for the answer that I was going to get.

  “They are dreams of your past lives.”

  I gasped at his revelation. It took me completely by surprise. The dreams were vivid, but I could never imagine that they were me reliving my past lives in my sleep. His explanation made sense, but it was so far-fetched.

  “I used to be these people?” I needed more explanation, “Like reincarnation?” I asked.

  He gave me a firm nod.

  “So if that is true,” I said slowly. “Then how come that guy tried to kill me? And how come I dreamed about you? Did we know each other in the past?”

  “Yes, many times over.” He made a nervous gesture with his hands, “when I passed you on the sidewalk that day. I knew exactly who you were, but I couldn’t show it.”

  “And then guy in the alley? I think you called him Jonah? Or the guys with my picture at school today?”

  “They were trackers,” he frowned, “they want to keep people from understanding what is really going on in the world. And they could be either good or evil, who knows,” he shook his head, “they just don’t want the other side to get more soldiers in the end.”

  “What is going on in the world?” I asked him genuinely confused, “good and evil, soldiers?”

  “We live the same lives over and over again with the same outcome every time.”

  “And the good and evil, part?”

  “The proverbial battle against good and evil,” he frowned, “and the trackers keep people quiet about everything.”

  I nodded in understanding. The dreams were showing me what had happened in lives that my soul had lived in the past. Soul? I wondered to myself. “Like our souls, keep being reborn or something and we always do the same thing.” I asked clarification.

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  “So,” I thought out loud, “the million dollar question is: how are we aware of all of this now?”