Gripped with pain, I struggle to barely breathe once more, as this voice calls from a blinding light. My body is shaken by an unknown force and I awake, sitting straight up in bed.

 

This dream has haunted me for years, coming at least once a month, sometimes more.  Though when I tell it, no one seems particularly interested in its seriousness. But it always stays with me afterwards, reaching for me, pulling at my psyche.
 
"Mommy, can I have some more?"

 

The little voice of my three year old son thankfully returns me from layers of thought in that dream. It came to me again last night. He held his plastic Blue's Clues bowl up at me, asking for more chocolate puff cereal. Even the milk was gone this time. Must have been extra hungry from the swimming party yesterday.

 

"I love you, Mommy."

 

He grabs my leg, hugs it tightly. With a flashed smile, he runs away with his cereal to watch cartoons in his couch-cushion fort.

 

 "Don't spill it!" I remind him with love in my voice; a trail of milk dots following behind him.

 

My tepid coffee offers no respite from memories of sitting up in bed, gasping for air.

 

"I can't help but feel I'm being pulled from this life," I once told my psychologist. 

 

Had to stop seeing him when he mentioned paranoia more than once. I was never one to take medication anyway. But there was something different about last night's dream. I felt like I wanted to stay there longer, terrifying as it was. 

 

After all these years, I wanted to see more.

Who is behind that voice? What do they want? It was time to face the demons.

-------------------

"But you have such a lovely life, sis.  It's perfect. Why do you always talk of something more? Ungrateful. That's what you are. I'd give anything to have that house, those kids, that husband.  That ring on your finger, oh my gawd! Who'd not want all that? Jeez, what are you crazy with this talk? Always the dreamer, you were. Never in reality. Never happy with reality, just want, want, want."

 

Jenelle has such a way of nagging in her voice. It makes me wonder how I've let her continue living this long. Her nasally, vocal strides still grind on me, after all these years.

 

She was right.
 
 Married ten years, three beautiful children, safety, security, routine, boredom. I had the privilege of staying home with my kids every day, seeing all their firsts, being here when they get home from school. Dips in the pool on lazy afternoons, shopping trips to the mall at any whim.  Trips to wherever I desired, with or without the kids. Bruce was the most laid back man ever.  Trusting, kind, gentle, never a cross word with the children or me. It seemed he lived for us, telling me so often that this was his dream world.

 

Kindra, my eldest, excelled in both intelligence and physical aptitude. A popular combination with peers and adults. At nine, her future so bright, and such a joy.

 

Taylor, in her first year of school, just always a step behind in her big sister's foot prints. She'll catch up soon enough.

 

And Henry, named after my father. I see heartbreaker swimming in those pools of blue eyes. Already a charmer of everyone he meets.

 

Who could ask for more than this?

 

But it was never that I was asking for more. There seemed to be something missing. I couldn't describe it, buy it, even know what to look for. Bruce thought it was perhaps a bigger house, so he had one built for me.  But the mystery just had more square footage in which to hide.

 

Perhaps another child; we had discussed a fourth. Deep down, I knew that was not the answer. An upcoming trip to China held promise. I'd never been on the Asian continent.  Still, I knew it would be nothing more than a way to pass the time. But pass the time until what?

------------------------

"What is your pleasure tonight, Dear?" Bruce asks me with adoring eyes, as I slide under the covers next to him.
 
 "I think if you would just hold me in your arms, if that's ok."

 

I could tell he'd love for more intimate closeness, but he scoops me close to him, and firmly put his arms around me. With a gentle kiss on my forehead, he asks if I had that dream again. All I can do is nod and choke back tears.
 
 I awoke gasping, with that light in my face again. Only this time, once I realized I was in the dream, for once I tried to think instead of just leave as soon as possible. It took every ounce of strength to just move my eyes, and still, I could make out nothing past that light. With what was left of my will, a moan escaped my lips, the sound as old as a mountain and foreign as an unknown language.

 

Immediately I heard a new noise in response to my sound.  Another person in the room, and a shadow eclipsed the blinding light. Moving closer towards me until it was leaning down over my face. To just focus with these eyes that would not cooperate was frustrating enough, but as I thought the face was coming into view, my eyes open to find myself in bed again.

 

"Mommy." I was tapped again on the shoulder. "Mommy, there's something in my room."
 
 After convincing Taylor there was nothing waiting under her bed or in her closet, I laid back down, only to hear the alarm clock buzzing in my ear.

 

I tried to call my mom, but she wasn't home. Seemed like forever since I had spoken with her, but at least she always tried to understand all of me. Even when she couldn't help, she would listen.

 

Again, my coffee was to room temperature before I realized I'd even poured a cup. Such a waste, though I couldn't remember the last time I drank it while still hot.
 
"Mommy, can I have some more?"

 

Henry's little voice returns me from layers of thought. He holds his plastic Blue's Clues bowl up at me, asking for more chocolate puff cereal. Even the milk was gone this time. Must have been extra hungry from the swimming party yesterday.

 

"I love you, Mommy."

 

He grabs my leg and hugs it tightly. Then a flashed smile, and he runs away with his cereal to watch cartoons in his couch-cushion fort.  
 
"Don't spill it!" I remind him with love in my voice. A trail of milk dots following behind him.

 

Then my breath catches in my throat as I realize exactly the same thing happened yesterday.

 

In a panic of fear, I call to Henry in the next room, "What did you do yesterday?"

 

In between mouthfuls of cereal, he manages to yell back "swimming," as drips of milk race from the corners of his open mouth. 
 
"What did you do the day before?"

 

He shrugs, half-paying attention to me and the TV. But before I could investigate further, the images of last night's dream flood into my mind, causing me to grab the counter for balance. 
 
The face appears to me again, but it's not such a blur. 

 

Black hair surrounds darker eyes. It's a man, with five o'clock shadow, he looks so familiar, and his mere image causes me to tremble.  There is evil in him, though no one can tell it with just a first glance. At the thought of his face, I sit hard on the floor, cowering in a position I know to be familiar, though I know not when I've done it before.

 

I can see Henry standing in the kitchen doorway, fear on his brow. His lips form the word "Mommy," but I can't hear him.

 

Images in the room begin to swirl into a tunnel of vision, mixed with the evil face and bright light. I can almost catch a glimpse of more in the dream scene in between Henry reaching out to me, then covering his eyes, not knowing how to help.

 

As I feel consciousness slipping from me, I force myself to lay still so that Henry can slide his little hand into mine. With a squeeze on his hand, I look into his eyes and try to reassure him that everything will be fine, but he starts to cry and buries his head in my hair. 

 

The tunnel becomes more dark than light, everything grows so heavy and slow, until I am consumed into unconsciousness.

--------------------

When my eyes open again, I am in a hospital room. Difficult as it is to look around, I wander the view with a glance. A lamp next to the bed. A chair near the door. Very plain. And a tube down my throat. I can't even say anything to let them know I am awake. All I can do is lay here and wait for someone to come in. Perhaps the children will arrive any moment, and Bruce; he'll be able to tell me what I'm doing here. Seems a little much for just a fainting spell.

 

I watch the clock tick for hours, not able to let anyone know I am awake, and finally a nurse comes in and the shock on her face at seeing me alert alarms me. She looks at her tan folder, reading something, then back up at me.

 

"Hello," she says, still rather uncertain.

 

I make a moan, and it sounds eerily familiar.

 

"Well, you are awake then, I see. Let me go get the doctor."

 

At least she smiles before she leaves the room, making me feel a bit less like an oddity.

 
"Ms. Kendal, you're awake!" the doctor exclaims, rather astonished. "Please nod if you can. I'd like to ask you some questions."

 

I shake my head, 'yes.'

 

"Do you know why you are here?" he asks.

 

I nod, 'no.'

 

"Can you move your legs?"

 

I move them rather slowly, barely a shift under the blanket, but they do stir.

 

"Now, watch this light as I move if from side to side, using only your eyes."

 

Frustration starts to show in my expression, as I try to ask for a pen and paper so I can write.

 

Another man comes in the room as they are handing me something with which to scribble out some questions and as I look up at him, I know he is the man in the scene.

 

Slowly, rather sheepishly he walks into the room, amazement on his face at seeing my eyes open.

 

"It's been so long," he starts to sob.

 

I look at the doctor in fear and confusion. I can only draw a question mark on the paper.

 

"This is your husband, Ms. Kendal."

 

My eyes grow huge in disagreement.

 

"This is Tom Kendal."

 

I start to shake my head, 'no.'

 

"Now, Ms. Kendal, it's rather common for someone unconscious as long as you've been to not remember things immediately. Not to worry. It will all come back to you."

  
 
Tom momentarily stops sobbing and looks at me out of the corner of his eye when the doctor said I would regain everything. The evil is there; I feel it waiting to strike at me like a viper.

 

"Mr. Kendal, please come down to the desk with me. I have a couple of things I'd like to discuss about your wife's rehabilitation.  Besides, she needs some rest. It's been a huge day for her.  The biggest day she's had in ten years."

 

He turns to the nurse. "Let's see about running some tests."

 

 "I won't be gone long," Tom says as he turns out the light and shuts the door, leaving me with just the lamp light in my face, tears, and fear.

 

 

©2005 Traci McMurray