Images

by Andrea Lauritzen
August 2008@ all rights reserved
Copyright @Andrea Lauritzen 2008


Images swirled in her head. Darkness, then bright lights . . . people talking, yelling . . . then silence. Hands. Large hands. She couldn’t breathe. The darkness was stifling. Suffocating . . .

Aubrey shot up from her pillow, drenched in sweat. Chilled . . .

“Another dream . . . just a dream . . .”

. . . a nightmare really, one which haunted her night after night. It felt so real, so frightening and intense. Aubrey picked the wet strands of hair from her cheeks, and drew her hair back from her head. Forcing herself to calm her rapid breathing, she took one deep breath after another.
“In through my nose, out through my mouth,” she repeated as she breathed. Too tired to change her damp sheets, and unexcited about slipping back into their dampness she grabbed her favorite pillow and dragged into the living room.
“Living alone has its advantages,” she thought as she popped a cheerful movie into the DVD player and curled up in a blanket on the couch.

A sunbeam, peeking through the blinds, danced Aubrey awake. Stretching her aching back, she caught the time on the living room clock. “9:02.” Eyes popping, she hurled herself to her feet, nearly falling as her feet tangled in the blanket. “I’m late for work again,” she groaned as she rushed for the shower.
“Nice you could make it to work today,” her cynical co-worker Fred chided as she ran past his cubicle at 10:35 am.
“Shut up, idiot,” she thought to herself. “By the way, dork, nice tie.” Though she was moving fast she couldn’t miss the neon orange necktie with the little purple . . . what were they? Bats? Purple bats hung loosely from his fat neck. She hated working with this two-faced, third-grade-mentality tattle-tale. She did her job. Granted, she was occasionally late for work, but was also generally the last to leave at night. She got her work done. That’s what mattered, right?! Besides, it was none of his business. This was between her and her supervisor, the dreamy guy in the corner office.
Aubrey slipped silently into her swivel chair and turned on the computer. “Another boring day,” she thought as her computer hummed into service. “Too bad the only excitement I have in my life is the nightmares that keep me up all night.”
After checking and answering emails and going over her TO DO List, Aubrey looked at her calendar. Glaring at her from the screen, in red, was an important meeting – now half over.
“Arrrgh!”
Grabbing a pen and pad, she rushed out the door and down the hall to the conference room. “Maybe I should just turn around, go back to my office, call in sick and go home for the day,” she thought as her heels clicked along the hall tile.

The image startled her. Even wide awake it felt surreal to her as she stopped abruptly before the large oak doors. Her hand reached for the brass knob. She saw other hands blurred before her trying to locate the knob. Another knob, dark and slivery, jutted out at her causing her to step back in fear. “They’re coming for me,” she whispered as her legs became noodles and crumpled beneath her. She watched the knob slowly get higher and higher. Then her arm hurt, and something jarred her head.
Voices . . . distant . . . footsteps on carpet . . . the doorknob.
“The doorknob . . . quickly, lock the door.” Darkness . . .

“Aubrey, Aubrey. Wake up Aubrey.” The voice seemed muffled in her confusion. Darkness became subdued tones of grey and white. A deep, pounding echo reverberated through her head. She didn’t want to open her eyes.
Slapping her face quickly, but gently, and giving her shoulders a shake the dreamy corner-office boss looked concernedly into her eyes.
“They’re blue,” Aubrey thought. “I always thought they were brown.”
“Are you ok?” He stated plainly. “We heard you fall.”
The cotton in her mouth made it difficult to form coherent words. She gave up and simply nodded. Dreamy hefted her aptly to her feet, holding her a moment as she wobbled. “Perhaps you should check in with the physician downstairs. Looks like you have a nasty bump on your head. It’s already starting to color. It’ll be a shiner by tomorrow.”
“Great,” she mumbled with sarcasm and then in her mind, “So much for impressing my new boss. I think now would definitely be a good time to go home.” Aubrey smiled, took her shoulders back, and promised she would see the doctor right away.
“Let Susan walk you down,” concern oozed from every word.
“If I weren’t so embarrassed,” she thought, “I’d be flattered by his sweetness.”
“I’ll be ok. Promise. Go ahead and finish your meeting. Fill me in later, ok?” Finally, some coherent words escaped from her cotton mouth. Exerting maximum control, Aubrey remained upright and stable all the way to her office. She felt the searing eyes of her co-workers on her back as she walked deliberately down the hallway. Slumping into her swivel chair, she laid her pounding head on her arms. Her blonde, loose ringlets filled the space blocking the light. That helped. The darkness wasn’t as scary when she knew it was light outside.
“If I thought I could make it to the bathroom . . . “ Aubrey grabbed her garbage can and heaved inside.

“A severe concussion,” concluded the in-house doctor.” You’ll need to rest for a few days . . . “ the doctor’s words faded into other words . . .
“. . . a severe concussion. How did you say she received it?”
“She fell at school. Her teacher called us. Said she’d been goofing off in class.
“She’d have to fall pretty far to hit her head this hard, as well as dislocate her shoulder.”
“The teacher said she was climbing around her desk.”
“It still doesn’t seem likely. What did your daughter say happened?”
“She said she fell off her desk.”
“Aubrey? Aubrey!” Aubrey snapped back to the present. “Where did you go,” the doctor questioned?
“Sorry. I’m just a little tired. I didn’t sleep well last night, and now this. My head’s a little fuzzy. I apologize.”
“That’s ok. It’s understandable. Do you have someone who can drive you home?”
“No. But I don’t live far.”
“I’m not sure, with your zoning out like that, that you ought to be driving. Call a cab.”
“Oh no, I don’t want to leave my car here. I’ll be ok. I’ll go straight home to bed.” The debate continued but Aubrey, proving her astuteness in battle, finally won out. The doctor gave her “a note” to be off work for three to five days. This meant, at least, that they were paid days.
Managing to make it home safely she collapsed into a deep, fitful sleep haunted by images she could no longer avoid. Paralyzed by their familiarity, she tossed through the night.
“Well, I didn’t slip into a coma last night, even though I didn’t wake up every four hours as the doctor prescribed. Lucky me?!” Sarcasm dripped from her last statement to herself. Curling up on the couch with a cup of warm apple juice and ginger, Aubrey clicked the play button. “What I need is a good cry movie,” she said to herself as Savannah Smiles began. “That will help me vent some of these insane emotions.” Staring blankly at the screen she wracked her memory. “I don’t remember falling in school. When did that happen? And dislocating my shoulder?” She massaged the muscle of her currently bruised shoulder. Had this incident triggered a past memory? Her childhood was a blur at best, with large black holes throughout. “Perhaps I fell during one of those black hole periods,” she mused, and sipped her juice?
The days passed slowly with long hours of pounding pain and vivid dreams. Sleep came and went in fits, Aubrey unaware whether it was night or day . . . unsure which were the dreams and which the reality. It all felt so real . . . her nightmares. And her waking moments often seemed to her as a dream, like she was imagining herself grown up when she was really just a frightened child . . . hiding, but from what?

. . . A ladder . . . Climb the ladder. RUN! Get away! She felt hot breath on her bare back as the heavy man huffed after her. She reached the ladder and began climbing. One hand, one bare foot on the old wooden rungs. One hand, grasping. One more foot step up. Reaching . . . His fat fingers wrapped around her ankle, yanking. A yelp escaped her parched lips. She tugged her leg back, and reached for a higher rung. A splinter lodged in her naked waist as she banged against the worn, splintering ladder. A tear escaped from her eye and trickled down her flushed cheek. His fingers brushed her heel, but she was too high to grab. She climbed one hand, one foot, one rung, one tear at a time. The dog barked wildly, and jumped angrily beside the ladder as she climbed into the hay loft to momentary safety.

“Bark, Bark, Bark,” the noise aroused Aubrey from her reality, her dream. Which was it? The clock on her nightstand glared “3:05” in bright red numbers.
“What’s that dog barking at this time of night?” She opened the blind only to be accosted by the glaring afternoon sun. “Wow! Three in the afternoon? I slept all day.”