Nightmare

Riley stretched her limbs high above her head as she stood in the parking lot. She felt her hair fall on her shoulders and settle behind her as she looked to the sky. The bright sun was high overhead beaming down warm sunrays and the black asphalt below her feet was radiating with heat. It combined to make the day a very hot one. As she turned to her left and began her trek southward, her sea green eyes caught the sight of a barely there black cat sleeking behind a rusty blue dumpster. Not giving it a second look or even a thoughtful care, she let her legs carry her wherever they wanted to go.

Riley walked on and on, along the sidewalk of a two-lane road. Unaware of her destination and oblivious to the overly warm temperature surrounding her. She marched on, mindlessly going through the motions. She knew in her head she had to make it somewhere, but suddenly she no longer knew how to get there or where “there” was. As her legs methodically moved her onward down the never ending road, she became increasingly aware of the fact that she couldn’t remember where she had just been. Yet she didn’t have the energy to care about that either. Inside the core of being however, she felt a rapid and strong desire for the need to get on a bus. The same something inside the core of her told her it would take her where she was meant to be. The longer Riley walked the stronger the desire became to get on bus number 87. Over and over again she racked her brain, searching for the origin of her need to ride this specific bus. When she found none, she concluded it was just natural instinct and her feet finding their way.

Her soft careless eyes gazed behind her to investigate the coming sounds of a fast traveling bus. As the speed of the bus increased she knew then she would not make the bus stop in time and would have to catch it when it came around a second time. However, her gaze was glued to the bus as it came barreling down the road. What she saw next did not even startle her like it should have, which confused her very much. As the bus made its way down the lane she swore to herself that she saw body after body tumbling under the sides of the bus. People were being pushed from the open doors of the bus and thrown to the curb then dragged beneath it. But there were no screams or sounds from the people at all. The only thing Riley heard was the loud roar of the bus’ engine as it came racing toward her. She also noticed once the people had been run over by the bus they ceased to exist. Although her view of behind the bus wasn’t perfect she still never saw any bodies lying on road. It was as if someone were playing tricks on her. She shook her head from side to side and tried to push the image of what she was seeing from her mind but remained. Although any sensible person would have burst into a panic frenzy, Riley stayed calm, as if in her heart she knew this extremely hideous sight was just another everyday scene.

Riley gazed at the sight of it all with amazement but remained calm and slightly unconcerned, telling herself this sort of thing happened all the time. That’s why no one else was panicking. Yet in the back of her mind she knew it was still oddly strange. As the bus continued heading her way she felt a little uneasy in her stomach. She slid further from the road side of the sidewalk and walked a few paces faster. Riley feared the bus would take her under like the rest of the bodies it threw about but knew in her heart she wouldn’t be harmed. Something was off about this day and the idea that this scene was mysteriously somewhat normal made things all the more unbelievable. Riley knew one thing for sure, she needed to get on bus number 87, at least that’s what she thought at the moment.

Out of nowhere, Riley was suddenly at the bus stop with a gentleman beside her. The bus came sliding on down the lane and Riley, after being so certain she must get on bus number 87 was abruptly convinced she mustn’t get any bus at all. And then Riley was walking beside the gentleman, now pushing an old fashioned baby stroller down the sidewalk. It was as if her memory had failed her. She felt like a ghost in a world passing her by. She zombied on, walking beside the man. It never occurred to her to ask his name or to ask why he was pushing such an old fashioned stroller. The only thing she knew was how persuasive he had been in directing her to walk to her destination instead of getting on the death bus as he had called it.

Time passed as if it didn’t exist, but Riley felt her journey slowly coming to an end. Looking around her she realized the scene of the road she had been walking beside never changed. There was just one long road that seemed never ending until something odd popped in her head. Before she knew it there was an intersecting twirl of concrete bridges in front of her. The gentleman silently walked beside her as they traveled under the bridges. Riley looked to her right, bored and tired of her never ending journey. She spotted a horse somehow trapped between the rings of the highway bridges. Although later it would not make sense how the horse could be trapped here, she let it her slip her mind for now. The sight of this horse here struck her as strange for only a moment. However, she was not nearly as surprised as she thought she should have been. Even though in her head she knew this was an odd sight, she felt as if on this day, nothing should surprise her anymore. So she turned her head back toward the silent man and continued walking to her unknown destination wondering what she would see next and where her feet would lead her.

Her breath veered from its normal rhythm and her body shook sharply as her eyes burst open. She took in a short intense breath of air, sat up in her bed and looked around the room, half expecting to see a horse to her right. But she didn’t. The only thing to her right was a window and the pitch black sight of nightfall beyond it. Riley evened her breathing and pulled her hand over her chest and to the place where her heart was to calm its erratic beating. She shook her head in annoyed disbelief and laid back down. Pulling the covers up around her shoulders she rolled onto her left side and slowly closed her eyes. She ran the nightmare over and over through her mind as she laid there. What does the bus barreling down a two lane highway trampling people over mean? What would a horse trapped in a mess of highway bridges mean? And a man pushing a stroller? None of it made any sense to her. It never made any sense to her.

Riley sighed and settled into her usual frustrated demeanor. Everything from the dream always felt so real and everything was always the same. Always the same barely there black cat, same bus number, always the same people falling beneath it, always the same man, the same horse, and the same unknown destination that she can never seem to reach. The dream always followed the same path and the people in it never veered from their lines. Not even Riley herself, she always felt the same way in the dream, like none of it was a surprise and like nothing really mattered. Riley was tired of this nightmare and tired of trying to figure out what it meant. So she let sleep once again consume her and she drifted off back into the dream world where she felt like nothing more than a ghost with unfinished business.

Fear Leads Us On

She kneeled on the floor, her bruised palms pressed against the carpet. Her sides were battered and beaten. Purple and bluish, black marks plagued her once pink skin. Tears rolled from her eyes onto her cheeks and then dripped to the floor. She had been here many times before. This place of pain and embarrassed stupor was a very familiar spot to her. She lifted her arms off the soft floor and let her back press against the coffee table, her legs bent beneath her. She sat in silence pondering her thoughts. He had slipped into the next room to wash his fists, leaving her alone in the den. Warm, red blood trickled from her bottom lip. She slowed her breathing in order to concentrate on what she knew needed to be done. She closed her eyes and let herself drift away to a more comfortable place. She flipped through the various choices she could make and weighed the two most prominent options.

The first was to get up, clean the mess her frightful husband had made, clean herself up and then make dinner for the two of them. The second option was to lift herself off the floor, cross the room and grab the gun in the desk drawer. She wanted so badly to just lie there and sleep her life away. She wished to take her last breath and slip into the unknown. However, she knew that was not an option and no matter how much she wished for her pain to subside, it would never leave her. Though this man beat the life out of her, she regrettable still adored him. Passion drove her heart to pound in her chest for him.

More tears flowed from her eyes and she let little gasps escape her blood stained lips. For the very first time since her husband began hurting her, she felt afraid. Not afraid of him and what he could and would do. She was terrifyingly afraid of herself. She was tired. Tired of being on the floor, tired of the bruises, tired of the screams, and most of all tired of the tears. This exhaustion is what made her fear herself more than anything and scared her into more tears and goose bumps which ran up and down her spine. She feared what this exhaustion would allow her to do. She feared what this state of being would ultimately make her capable of.

Opening her eyes she placed her delicate hand on the floor beside her. With what little energy she had left, she pushed herself to her feet. She knew what she had to do. She was terrified and the fear revealed itself on her beaten body. Frail and broken she crossed the room lightly and slowly. She slid the heavy wooden drawer open and stared into it. Her tears fell down onto the wooden desk. She slipped her petite hand into the drawer and reached until she found the item she was seeking. Grabbing it firmly, she pulled it into eye sight and let it weigh in her hands. The gun felt cold and rugged to her then gradually it became warm to the touch. She twisted around and leaned her back against the desk. She was now facing the room her husband had disappeared into.

As he reentered the den, she raised her arms and pointed the heavy gun at his chest. A smug, doubtful smile crossed his face, but she had, had enough. He walked slowly closer to her. Warm tears rolled down her cheeks as fear froze her body. She was no longer afraid of him. Instead, she let the rushing energy of her fear guide the gun that she held in her bruised hands. She was finally ready to see how tough this man really was. Getting a hold on herself, she squeezed the trigger and put three hard metal bullets in his chest.

Pure Bad Luck

She glanced over at the counter top as she sat on the toilet seat impatiently tapping her toes against the cool tiled floor. Several used pregnancy tests lay out on the counter top. She sighed as she stared at them all individually. It was only four minutes ago she had exercised their use. She left them on the counter top without peaking and then hopped into the steaming bathtub. Her body soaked in the calming soothes of the hot water and goosebumps covered her body as she was embraced with the warmth of it.

Still gazing at the counter top she began to cry. The fifty percent chance of the test being positive was finally weighing in on her and she felt the bricks pile onto her shoulders. Disgusted she turned her eyes away from the counter and closed them tightly. Her life started to stream through her mind as she lay soaking in the warm water.

It happened about a month ago. One moment she had the world at her fingertips and the next thing she knew it was swept away. Her completely horrible week, which on many occasions she would have been glad to never have again, was painfully late. She decided it was better to keep this a secret from her long-time lover until she knew for sure what she was dealing with.

Pulled from her memories, she opened her eyes and stared at the yellow towels hanging on the wall. “Damn” she thought to herself.

“If only I had remembered to take that stupid little red pill.”

She whispered the words as if they were dangers punching holes in her chest.

“I was in such a hurry. Make up… hair… perfume… why couldn’t I have just remembered the pill?!?”

She knew a baby was the very last thing she could deal with right now. Her applications were submitted to college universities and she was ready to start her own life. She lifted her hand to her forehead as she considered the possible situation. Checking the clock hung above her mirror she counted the time it had been since she used the first pregnancy test. It was two minutes past the estimated time it would take.

She sat up slightly in the bathtub and leaned over the edge towards the counter top. Holding her breath she reached for the test. Her finger tips grazed the side of it. She was just barely out of reach. Pulling herself upright slightly more she stretched for the counter again. As her fingers wrapped around the test she caught part of her new portable curling iron cord in her hold. Stressed out with the situation at hand, she was too concerned to realize what she was gripping and pulled them both closer to her anyway. Forgetfulness and pure busy lifestyle had given her the habit of leaving her hair beauty utensils to turn themselves off without her assistance. The iron was practically weightless in her hand as she studied the results of the test.

Her jaw fell open as she gazed upon her future. She freed the breath she had been holding tight her chest and allowed it to slip through her lips. Releasing her grip, she let the test fall to the tiled floor of her bathroom and onto the fuzzy yellow rug below. As the test fell so did the curling iron. It grazed the side of the bathtub as its weightless being fell from her fingertips. It hit the tub perfectly and the slick surface helped it slide right into the warm water that embraced her body. Electric currents surged through the cord and ran through the water like lightning.

Her body jolted as sparks emerged from the curling iron and spirally smoke sailed to the ceiling. The cord finally burst with bright flames then abruptly stopped altogether. Her body lay in the bathtub as still as the stars in the night sky; the used pregnancy test buried in the fuzzy yellow rug on the floor.

Melody of the Roses

His head lay on the unusually flat pillow. As he rolled to the side, he noticed how annoyed the sheets had started to make him. He guessed they must have been stitched together from bits of paper, for comfort was definitely not their expertise. His head ached. Pounding through his ears and around the base of his skull, he could feel and sense every detail of life with a stinging hurt. He tried to lift his right hand to caress his forehead but found the movement caused him so much pain he almost fainted from the effort.
So he lay still as he let his eyelids fall open. His memory failed him as he searched for an answer to where he was. The ceiling above his head was dirty and paneled with white holey pieces of material. He glanced to his left and saw a window which displayed a field of green trees beyond. Keeping his breathing steady he shifted his weight to the right side of the bed and stared in that direction. Just as his eyes met her, she spoke in a soft yet irritating voice,
"Oh goodness! You're finally awake. How do you feel? Are you alright? The doctor said you'll be fine. He said the injuries were not deep enough to cause any real damage. So you should regain full use of your hands again, that is, once the healing is done. Oh, honey we were so worried. But everything is going to..."
Memories flooded his mind as the realization of where he was set in and her voice began to fade in his ears. Nevertheless, for the next three minutes she continued her speech of comfoting words to him. Pleasant as her words were, he found them more annoying than comforting. Eventually, her presence diminished altogether as exhausted weariness grew on him and he fell into a welcomed slumber again.
When he awoke only an hour later, a younger woman was now by his bed. Elegance and beauty poured out of her as she relaxed against a high backed chair. A few minutes passed before she noticed he was awake. Seeing his eyes rest upon her, she smiled, delighted and reached out to caress his shoulder. He welcomed her touch and eased his body closer to the side of the bed. In a charmed yet somewhat reserved voice she asked,
"You know where you are?"
He inclined his head, indicating a positive response to her question. Relief fell from her shoulders as her eyes swelled with tears and she turned away from him.
"Analeigh"
His voice was rugged and heavy with desperation. He waited for her to respond and longed to reach out and grab her hand. Fear of her silence gnawed at his bones and sent chills through his spine. If there was one person in the whole world whose disapproval he could not bear to know, it was hers.
After what seemed like a century, she finally spoke. Her voice was strained, longing, fearful. Yet passion could still be heard seeping through and the softness of her very being couldn't help but grace her words. She spoke slowly and clearly, as if every letter was part of a desperate plea for help and the words fell upon his ears like a river rushing around a tight bending curve in the earth.
"What was it like? How did it feel?"
Her questions seemed fairly simple yet they entailed a life time's worth of answers. He knew no easy response would suffice her curiosity so he readied himself for a detailed account. Pulling the air through his lungs and steadying his mind, he began.
"It was beautiful... But not at first. At first it was dark and empty. I felt the blade shape its way through my wrist and as it did, I felt darkness take over. At first, every annoying sensation of the world around me was as if it were super magnified. My heart filled with doubt as it desperately tried to calm its own erratic rate. My ears started to ring but only for a few moments and then came a deafening silence. I couldn't stop my eyelids from sliding down over my eyes and the only sensation I knew then was the feel of my own blood rushing from my veins."
He paused and gazed up at her wondering whether she wanted him to finish or not.Her intense look made him aware of her wishes without having to express any words and he continued. His voice was slower this time and close to a whisper.
"But once that passed... Analeigh... it was wonderful. It was blissful. Perfect, like a melody from a long lost song. It grabbed hold of me and we danced to a stunning rhythm. The darkness faded and I was surrounded by stars of shining light. Every part of my being was fulfilled and satisfied. My worries were emptied from me and I felt a waterfall of weight slip off my very bones. The chills, the aching... all the pain was gone Analeigh. I was sitting among a field of wild roses and I smelled every sweet scent they had to offer."
In a more frantic, stern and longing tone he echoed,
"I smelled the roses Analeigh."
Light tears started to slide down his cheeks and his voice changed from anxious contained excitement to desperate hopelessness.
"And then it was gone. Just like that, I was pulled from the depths of beauty itself and thrown into darkness. Pain... excruciating pain enveloped my entire body and I could feel someone pulling me back. I tried to fight it. I tried to return to the roses, but that hand had such a tight hold on me. I couldn't breathe. I felt my lungs gasp and panic for air. I just wanted to go back to the roses but it kept pulling and with every surge, the pain grew stronger. Until finally every beautiful grace that I had experienced left me completely. My hope for happiness drifted away and I let myself sink into despair. The next thing I know, I'm lying in a hospital bed."
Analeigh let his voice fade out before she lifted her head and formed words. Her cheeks were covered in tears and her lips trembled. Her voice full of yearing desire and bleak hope, she said,
"Death sounds even more magical that I dreamed of. I wish I could have felt it with you. I wish I had the strength..."
Her voice died out as sad sobs escaped her lips and she was unable to form any more words.

No Difference!

By Shel Silverstein

Small as a peanut,
Big as a giant,
We're all the same size
When we turn off the light.

Rich as a sultan,
Poor as a mite,
We're all worth the same
When we turn off the light.

Red, black or orange,
Yellow or white,
We all look the same
When we turn off the light.

So maybe the way
To make everything right
Is for God to just reach out
And turn off the light!