Dreaming a Reality (11 page)

Obviously, Mitch paid no attention to how I looked when he said, “You look beautiful, Kat.”

Maybe it was because we were running late, or maybe he didn’t care. Who knows? After all, I still didn’t know what his exact intentions were. I just assumed it was to have a good time.

“Come on, Kat. Let’s go,” he said, hurrying me inside the cab.

“Don’t rush me. I think I’m forgetting something.”

“You have your suitcase, and I have you, so come on. We’re a bit late here.”

Even though the house looked spotless, I wanted to do one last round of checking, but it was too late for that.

Mitch took my luggage and threw it into the trunk. “Our flight leaves at 2 p.m. You need to speed it up, Kat.”

My nerves felt like they were electrocuting me on all different spots of my body. I couldn’t settle myself, no matter how many pills I popped. While we were in the car, I dug through my purse to try and pop more, but feeling around everywhere, I couldn’t find them.

“Oh, God, Mitch, I forgot my meds. We have to go back.”

“It’s too late for that. Besides, it’s only a few days. You can handle it, can’t you?”

I thought how I’d been off my medication for long periods of time and nodded, but I needed them desperately to calm me down. Mitch was right, it was too late and we were already at the airport.

He was talking, but I was starting to zone out and couldn’t hear a word he said. Either that or I just didn’t want to listen.

We whipped through the airport in good time and only waited about ten minutes to board the plane. I was fixated on the planes landing on the runway as I looked through the windows and could feel Mitch giving me a tug to go. I followed along beside him, trembling.

“Kat, the flight!”

I was on a different flight—a flight of inner turmoil. I couldn’t say much, and my lips felt like iron clasps sealed shut. Mitch was still talking, but I didn’t respond, or understand.

Finally I understood the word “passport” after he shook me gently by the arm.

“Yes,” I said. “I have it.”

I did have my passport, but I didn’t have my thoughts—not straight at least.

Soon we were on the plane flying to the Bahamas. Mitch ordered some drinks for us, but I shook my head. He pointed out an article he was reading and mumbled. Instantly, the word “death” caught my eye, the word I’d been struggling with concerning my mom. I felt like I was going to die. What if the plane crashes and I’ll never be able to see her again? What if I die first?

Chapter Nineteen

We landed safely after I suffered from worry the whole plane ride. I couldn’t help but think of dying in different ways―like crashing in the ocean and getting eaten by blood-thirsty sharks. It was surreal. The colors of the sky reflected off the green-blue sea, and palm trees swayed in the soft winds, flapping their leaves that spread out like hands. The smell of coconut-cream from suntan lotions mingled in the air, and people showed their skin from the palest white to the deepest brown.

Once we got to the hotel, Mitch made some calls to have room service come to our suite. The room was adorned in floral and tropical prints, and the balcony overlooked a miniature golf course. The lush garden in shades of jade and fuchsia enhanced the oceanfront view.

I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. I didn’t even think to change my clothes; I just stared into my large, black pupils long enough to go into full madness. I felt trapped there now, like an untamed animal waiting to be set free, and I couldn’t think straight. I was dreaming again, and it was hard to motor myself to do anything. Everything felt heavy, like someone was pulling me down.

Mitch had planned on taking me on his yacht and kept on insisting I’d have a good time.

I paced around the room, and then went to the balcony. Amazed at the sight, yet fearful of the height as we were on the fifteenth floor, I was starting to feel lightheaded again. I dared myself and stepped out onto the balcony, viewing the scenery below. The flesh-colored hotel sprawled everywhere and was like a picture you’d see in a travel magazine.

I went back into the bathroom and slipped off my clothes, then twisted the shower knobs to let the water run. As I sat there holding my hand underneath the water, I thought of my mother and how I’d held her hand. The water was almost the same temperature as her skin—cool with a slight chill. When it was warm enough to my liking, I turned on the shower head and stepped in.

I could hear Mitch entering the bathroom.

“Can I join you?”

I heard him rummaging around and through the frosted glass could see him undressing. I didn’t say anything.

He slid the shower door open, and the steam plumed out like fog. He stepped in the tub and stood behind me, then began to kiss and caress the nape of my neck, pulling back my soaked hair. He moved his hands around my body, and started massaging my breasts.

“God, you are gorgeous, Kat.”

At that point, I didn’t care about anything and just let go. I surrendered to Mitch and let him have his way. He pushed gently inside me as the two of us made love.

Mitch made a comment about how I was acting.

“You look out of it, Kat. Why don’t you get some rest and leave everything up to me?”

I didn’t answer; I just let him guide me to the bed. Everything became a blur after that.

* * * *

I dreamed of waking to the glorious shining moon, lighting up the whole room in a pale-blue hue. I sat up and could hear voices from outside the balcony. When I glanced at the clock, the time was a fuzzy red glow. I looked over to the side and saw that Mitch was still asleep.

The soft voices seemed loud to me, as if they were standing right beneath the balcony, and I felt compelled to check. Everything felt so real, yet was it? I couldn’t tell dream from reality anymore and wasn’t sure if I was in fact awake. Those voices, though, they had to be real. Louder and louder they became, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying.

I went to the balcony and slid the door open as the sheer curtains floated upward.

“Come on, Katherine, you can do it,” the voices chanted. “Come on.”

There just below the balcony was the girl, floating in the air. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I had to be dreaming. The girl urged me to go with her.

With no thought for my safety or sanity, I clamped my hands on the railing and placed my left foot onto the ledge. As I let my body sway in the wind, my hair blowing wildly around my face, I began to descend. Before I closed my eyes, I felt hands clamping around my waist, and I was dragged in and laid on the floor. Mitch had a stunned look on his face and again was saying things that I couldn’t hear. My body felt numb, and I couldn’t move or speak.

“Katherine, how could you?” His voice was muffled, like it was far away. He was shaking me violently, slapping me in the face.

“Katherine, come back to me, please!”

I felt nothing. I tried desperately to wake myself but couldn’t. I seemed to be already awake but wasn’t sure.

Mitch carried me to the bed and pinned me down, and then he picked up the phone. Soon there was a loud knocking at the door.

“Stay there,” he said gruffly.

He opened the door and that’s when they came in—two men in dark-navy uniforms.

I reacted instantly, jumping on the bed and screaming, “God help me, God help me!” I ran to the windows and pounded feverishly on the glass. Dear God, what is happening to me, I thought. Why can’t I wake? I felt like I wanted to unzip my skin to the bone and flap away—to fly out the window.

One paramedic took me, trying to situate my body on the hospital gurney while the other strapped me down. I tried to escape out of their grasp, but their hands were all over me. I couldn’t feel anything, and in my mind thought I couldn’t move, yet I was whipping my body around, thrashing it about. I seemed to be trapped within my own body.

I felt a needle pierce through my arm, and darkness sealed my eyes shut.

Chapter Twenty

I woke up in the middle of the night to see a silhouette of a young woman praying behind sheer curtains. There was a glaring light coming from out of the doorway, flickering through the curtain. I saw the shadow of the woman; long curly hair, sitting Indian style, chanting softly. Where was I? Had this still been my dream?

I slapped my face lightly and pinched my hand. I could feel everything. I was in fact awake and got up to look around. There was that sterile smell again, so I was still in the hospital.

As soon as I walked from around the curtain, I saw the young woman with her head down. Her hands were crushed together in prayer, as she sat there rocking back and forth. I could hear her softly saying, “Dear God, bless…” Before I could open my mouth to speak, she looked up.

“Well, hello there,” she said. “I’m your new roommate; Nancy.”

She was an Arabian-looking girl with long raven-like hair and black, marble eyes. Her nose was long and narrow, and her lips were a ripened red and looked as if she had lipstick on. She couldn’t have been any more than twenty five or twenty six.

I didn’t understand. One minute I was fighting for my life in the hotel room, and the next I was in the hospital. I was trapped again, and this time it was for real.

In my mind I was raging mad, yet physically I felt like a zombie. I walked back over to my bed, but before that I caught a glimpse of the street lights outside the window. I pressed my hands against the glass, but it was hard to see outside as the windows were caged up. I could just about see the familiar sight across the street of the convenience store I‘d gone to just days before the trip. I was in the hospital back home, but how?

I crawled back in bed and tried to recall what had happened, and I wondered where Mitch was for a moment. My heart began to sink into my chest, and again I started to feel like I couldn’t move. My legs and arms felt like stone. I thought of Jeremy and wondered how I could let him down like this? I silently promised I wouldn’t let anything bad happen.

As I tossed and turned, shuffling the thin, white sheets, I couldn’t relax. I had to call Jeremy and find out if he was okay. Did he even know where I was?

I stepped off the bed and glided out to the door down the hall to the nurse’s station.

“I have to make a call to my son,” I said, pleading with one of the nurses.

“Not until eight this morning, then you can make your phone call. Please return to your room.”

Devastated I couldn’t call, I felt the urgency to reach over the desk and pick up one of the phones. I lingered there a moment or two as the nurse said again, “Go back to your room, please.”

There was nothing more I could do, so I sauntered back to the room and burst into tears. My warm, wet cries rolled off my face, and I felt frustrated and sad at the same time. My head pounded, and my palms felt sweaty.

I began to pace around the room, to try and rebuild my energy. I felt weak, yet had that feeling of wanting to run again—to bolt out of the room. I had to fight back somehow.

I raced to the window and watched the multi-colored lights from the ambulances flashing. I looked to the navy sky and thought of the paramedics and their navy uniforms pulling me down, strapping me in. I banged on the glass, crying, “How could you? How could you do this to me?” I blamed God for letting it happen again. I wanted to hurt myself just so I could feel again, but more than that, I wanted to wake from this awful nightmare.

A nurse came scurrying into the room in response to my cries.

“Please calm down, Katherine,” she said, guiding me back to the bed. “Would you like an Ambien to help you sleep?”

I tried to calm myself but thought the sleeping pill would do me good, so I agreed. “Yes, please.” My throat was hoarse as I spoke. “Thank you.”

“Oh, that’s what we’re here for, sweetie. I’ll be right back with your medication.”

The nurse was in and out in a flash. She handed me the pill in a little paper cup and said, “This should help you sleep.”

I took the pill and swigged it down with the cup of water she gave me, and then laid down on the bed.

“Now get some rest. You can call your son in the morning.”

My eyelids became very heavy after staring at the ice-cube trays of light on the ceiling. The nurse tucked in my covers and checked on Nancy, and then she turned off the light off.

* * * *

It was now morning as I could see the sunlight peering through the blinds. Nancy my roommate was still sound asleep.

I got up and off the bed and headed to the hallway. I glanced at the classroom-sized clock just across the hall and checked the time—5:45 a.m. Just as I started to head into the hall, one of the nurses caught me and said, “A few more minutes, honey. Six is when you can roam freely in the halls.”

Fifteen minutes felt fifteen times too long, let alone two hours. That was the time I had to wait before calling Jeremy. Nothing else mattered now except to hear his voice again, to know that he was in fact okay. It felt like forever since I’d heard from him. When was the last time? Everything in my mind seemed garbled and confused, and the order of my thinking was mixed like a tornado.