Dreams of Reality
Page 1
Dreams of Reality
Sylvia Hubbard
Published by HubBooks Literary Services
Copyright 2011 Sylvia Hubbard
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual person, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the author's website and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Cover design by Sylvia Hubbard
ORI: Dreams of Reality (c) 2006 Sylvia M. Hubbard. Revised # 0816060721R:0624111616R:62894wc
For information address:
Sylvia Hubbard
PO Box 43439, Detroit, MI 48243
Visit her website at:
http://SylviaHubbard.com
Chapter 1
Tugging on her gown, she tried to be comfortable in Dr. Welch’s presence. Skye Patterson knew she should not be so uptight; Dr. Welch had been almost a father to her. She had been seeing him since she was eleven. Nervously waiting for his last words to her, she rubbed her neck.
When he was done scribbling on her medical records, signing off on test completions, he looked up at the young woman he had grown quite close to. “Skye, as always your annual checkup is fine.” He scratched something else down. “I’ve already spoken to Dr. Himes in Detroit. He’s happy to have you as a new patient. I don’t want you to worry and he’s already suggesting a psychiatrist for those panic attacks we’ve been unable to cure after all these years.”
She saw the disappointment in his eyes, he had really made it a personal mission to help her and after all these years, they had been unsuccessful. “It’s not your fault,” she consoled. “You’ve done your best. Thank you for the referral, Dr. Welch. I appreciate it.”
“My son went to medical school with Dr. Himes before... you know.” He choked on his words. “Dr. Himes seems like a fine young man.” He changed the subject scratching graying scruffy beard.
To speak of his son, Edward Welch, Jr. was always difficult. Dr. Welch had not taken his overdose of Ecstasy very well. The entire community of Davenport, Ohio was shocked to hear of Eddie’s death; especially his father who had no idea his son was a drug user. Dr. Welch had no idea what the drug was and hadn't even heard of Ecstasy.
Skye had done him the favor of researching the drug and gave him the information. He seemed to take the death even worse, but after a while he healed and went on.
“You are going to be fine,” he assured her. “This is a huge step for you and I am proud of you.” He gave her a comforting grin.
She nodded nervously licking her full lips. “I’ll be fine.” This was said more to reassure herself, than him.
He stood up, “Good. You’re going to be fine. It will do you good to get out of Davenport and go somewhere new. Detroit is definitely somewhere new.” He pulled the curtain around the table she sat on so she could change.
She pretended not to see the worried expression on his face, she was too busy pondering her own thoughts of moving away from the only city she knew and had matured in. Yes, life had not been easy for her, yet Davenport, Ohio was the only home she knew. It was security and Skye had always worked better when things were simple and the same. Different things made her life difficult and brought on the mentally impaling panic attacks more and more.
After putting on her clothes, she pulled the curtain away and went to the front desk. Nurse Stephanie smiled brightly handing her a thick medical file. “Dr. Welch said you’d be needing your medical record.”
“Thank you, Nurse Stephanie.”
Hurriedly Skye left out and went to her small black rusted Escort. All her things were already packed in the back - everything she owned.
Pushing the parking break down with long strong slim fingers tipped with home filed polished nails, she cranked the car up taking a deep breathe. Looking up in the rearview mirror, she stared back at herself. There was fear and apprehension, but a strength she would survive. Going to a new city was not going to be easy.
She could get through this new step in her life an even better person from what she was now if she kept her wits about herself.
* * *
The female patient screamed again. Dr. Harry Porter frowned as the orderlies held her down while he injected the light pink liquid inside the syringe into her arm.
“No! No! No!” she begged frantically, not knowing what else to say to prevent him from giving her the sedative mixed with the drug she desperately needed but knew she should not be having.
All of these patients were becoming more and more aware of their circumstances. Initially the test drug prevented them from remembering, but the more they forgot, the little control the patients had on reality, until the past and present hit them like a smack in the face and the more they realized the drug was doing harm to them, the worst they became because by then they were addicted, but losing all control of mental stability and not being able to stop any of what was going on.
Dr. Porter knew in the end some just died. Some he helped after hearing them whimper in the night like a lost puppy begging for release from the nightmares that would never end. Others became vegetables and sunk into permanent darkness content to be there.
In his mind letting this test subject sleep her life away was the only thing he could do short of killing her. She will never see reality like it once was because the drugs had taken her mind away.
There was no way to deny the truth for this patient and Dr. Porter was honest in the prognosis of her. The present would never be the same for her, but others had come out of the testing just fine.
The other three were working like clockwork. A fourth would be better especially now that the price of them had gone up. Five hundred dollars a session! Fats had ordered another one to become ready soon and Dr. Carter did not want to let him down.
Yet, Dr. Carter was just a Psychiatrist, who specialized in the female psychological state of mind looking at this scientific venture only for the money. They never expected a drug like this to really work so well. The tests subjects were already pulling in two thousand a night.
Getting out of there, Dr. Porter took the nearest elevator down to women’s gynecology department on the first floor. Dr. Robert Himes was seeing a new patient, who possessed the high thyroid level they were looking for. She would be perfect. No parents or social life and passive.
One they could mold into whatever they wanted.
* * *
Skye had been having incapacitating cramps during her period for the past three months and decided to see the doctor for the pain.
She wanted to tell herself the cramps were ‘new city’ stress. Her account had taken off wonderfully to the point she needed to hire two more home transcribers, Sheila and Margaret, who could take on the overload. Sheila was a retired nurse and enjoyed the extra work. She was able to assist Skye on the account giving her more time off to get moved in and find her way around town.
Dr. Himes was in his late thirties, almond smooth hair with eyes to match. A captivating smile adorned his lips seeming to mesmerize her and he was extremely nice.
“Are you taking any birth control, Ms Patterson?” he asked concerned after the examination.
He patted her knee to reassure her. “That is understandable, but a single woman living in the big city shouldn’t be caught dead without it. Good or bad - anything can happen, plus it will regulate and nearly stop your flow so you won’t have such a severe menstrual cycle.”
Anxiety was slowly creeping up around her. “D-did you read my record?” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I mean having s-sexual. . .” She could not breathe.
“Calm down.” His tone was firm, but soothing. “It’s alright. Dr. Welch wouldn’t put you in the hands of someone who would do you any harm. Yes, I know you were sexually abused when you were younger, Skye, but I’m only assuring myself and you that if something comes up, we are both prepared for it.” He firmly gripped her shoulders forcing her to meet his calming brown eyes. “You are my concern. I know you’ve had it rough, but we must be positive. In a big city like Detroit, it’s only natural for you to do this.”
She forced herself to calm down. “Alright, I guess I can take it.”
“Good.” He went to the cabinet.
Skye watched him get a key out of his pocket and pulled out a pre-filled syringe with light pink fluid. She saw more vials with the same colored liquid in them, just before he closed and locked the door replacing the key back in his pocket.
“What exactly is this?” she inquired quite curious.
“This is a new form of birth control that been specially engineered and I’ve chosen it just for you.”
She found those words rather strange. If the birth control seemed so ‘special’ how did he have the chemical on hand so immediate?
Skye kept this concern to herself as he prepared the needle and spoke more about the light pink liquid inside the syringe.
“It’s a newer version of Depro-Vera without the side affects. Depro Second Phaze—that’s the test name I assure you. I’m including a prescription of Anaprox-DS to cease the sever cramping you have during your period until the birth control can take over. You’ll know when this happens. If the cramping continues to bother you, I can prescribe some Darvocet-N100’s for you.”
Being a medical transcriptionist she knew the effects of these drugs to her system and did not want to go through what other patients she had typed experienced. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”
She hated taking drugs, yet he sounded as if he knew what he was talking about and only wanted her to feel better. Relief filled her allowing her trusting nature to come to the surface.
Turning around so her backside faced him, she made herself relax to receive the injection, all the while listening to him.
“This is a three-month supply I will be injecting in your backside, but I’m going to schedule you to see me in a month and a half to check up on your pain and hopefully see progress. If there is soreness in the vagina, it’s merely a small convulsing side affect that your body might have from your period being stopped or slowed. A warm bath and lots of water to drink should relieve the uncomfortable sensations. Keep up your vitamin routine increasing your calcium supplement a bit.” He pushed her gown away, and then he inserted the needle in her rear, noting she only gasped a little. “I sincerely do hope the best for you,
Skye. If you need to speak to someone, please feel free to contact a colleague of mine, Dr. Ryan Carter. He’s extremely good working with the female psyche and panic attack victims.” He passed her a business card. “You will be fine if you take it easy and try not to work so hard.”
She nodded a little assured. “Maybe I should make an appointment with him? It’s not healthy of me to be so apprehensive.”
He smiled a beautiful white smile that made her gasp amazed at the brilliance. “Why don’t I let my nurse set you up with an appointment tomorrow about ten?”
“That’s good for him? So soon?” She had to wonder a bit why Dr. Himes wanted her to be a priority. If this doctor was so good, he had to have a long line of patients waiting to see him. Still, she kept this concern to herself as well.
“He’s a friend of mine, of course he won’t mind for me. Come back to the clinic tomorrow. He’ll be here.”
This made more sense. Dr. Himes was doing this as a favor to her. Maybe he valued Dr. Welch and decided to put more dedication into her. She was grateful for it, yet deep down inside she still wondered what his reasons for taking care of her were. “Thank you, Dr. Himes.” She slid off the table.
“No problem, Skye.”
Leaving her alone, he took a deep breath once he was out of the examination room, away from Skye Patterson.
Dr. Porter was standing outside the door. “How’d it go?” he asked anxiously to his partner.
“Fine. Quite fine,” Dr. Himes said feeling a sense of dread for the kind-hearted patient. She was really sweet and very beautiful - Too bad. “There shouldn’t be any problems.”
They went to Dr. Himes' office to speak more privately.
* * *
Putting her clothes on Skye looked over at the mirror behind the door. With her hair in corn rolled braids all the way down to the middle of her back, she looked rather plain in the t-shirt and jeans. As angelic as her oval face was with the crème brown sugar of her flawless skin, the small nose, and the thick lips, she still found it hard to believe the image that came back to her in the mirror. She was pretty when she didn’t consider the image as her, but she didn’t feel pretty.
She felt ugly and dirty sometimes as she remembered the gross stench of the foster father’s breathe on her neck and the groping hands of the female counselor.
Other times she didn’t feel anything at all. She was just Skye Patterson, a plain Jane with no middle name who was just trying to type her way through the world until she died. She didn’t need any excitement or friends, other people craved to get by. She was happy to be with herself.
Although loneliness was a bitch sometimes, she typed those feelings away as she had the feelings which came when she thought about her rape.
Driving home in a daze from the day’s endeavors, she entered her Westside three bedroom residential home. Two bedrooms were upstairs the master bedroom having its own private bathroom.
The lower bedroom on the first floor was being used as her office across from the other bathroom. There was a living room as soon as one entered with the dining room off to the right. The kitchen was in the back of the house and the basement held extra things including her washer/dryer room.
Picking up the paper on her porch on her way in, an interesting article on the side bar of the front page caught her eye. Not really the article, but the man in the picture above the article. He was tall, broad shouldered, and extremely handsome. In the article some African American local businessman was being awarded a mayor’s plaque and was being honored as a community leader. Her finger rubbed the face on the paper and wondered what it would be like to meet him.
Placing the paper away from her, she shook her head, going straight to her office. Skye knew she would have a panic attack or throw up from being so nervous.
She rarely went anywhere except her office, where she earned a living as a home transcriptionist. She did medical and word processing, plus light medical billing for a couple of doctor’s. Sheila also helped her with this as well.
Going straight to her office, she pulled out her dictionary of medical terms.
A couple of hours later, although she never saw the birth control Dr. Himes had mentioned as she researched it in her medical books around her office, she remembered he said the drug was new to the market so she should find some article related to the chemical or the study of the drug on the Internet if she searched hard enough. But at this point, she did not really feel like doing anything.
There was a slight soreness in her backside from the shot and she knew she would rather spend the rest of her energy typing rather than concerning herself with a birth control she knew would n
ever be used for sexual means. It was to slow her period down to keep the cramps away. That would be all its use for her—nothing else.
Skye had no intentions of having any sexual relations in the near future and to concern her worries with the birth control would be a pure waste of time.
Instead she turned on her computer to begin typing. Setting her fingertips to the keys relaxed her and listening to other people’s problems made her less worrisome about her own isolated lifestyle.
Maybe she would meet someone perchance in fate or something. Maybe she wouldn’t have an attack and act a ninny or shy and maybe one-day hell will actually freeze over, pigs will fly, and she’d walk in her bedroom and see Thaddeus Newman sitting there in a nice black robe – and nothing else- waiting to make love to her.
Oh yeah... not!
Chapter 2
Craig Simpson entered the private entrance avoiding the front desk of the small office of his blood brother, Thaddeus Newman, a meticulous, goal oriented young man. They had been friends since childbirth. Born in the same year and their mothers closer than anything, Craig was the brother Thaddeus never had.
They were like night and day. Not much could rile Craig up, but everything seemed to make Thaddeus an active volcano. Craig had always seen Thaddeus angry or emotional about something. While in Craig’s case, he may become pique or even bothered, but never screaming mad.
Even though Thaddeus had played football all his life until he had torn a major cartilage in his knee in a Rose Bowl Game when he played in college for the University of Michigan. Ruining his football career. He still received a master’s in business management and opened up his own real estate redevelopment and construction company. Being a black businessman in an industry filled with the majority, his success was noted all over the country. He had business ventures in five major cities, but based his business in Detroit, Michigan.