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"Okay," I laughed "I keep forgetting."
We walked back to my apartment, making easy conversation about classes and professors. Even though it was light out and Simon was beside me, I kept feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the cold air. I felt a prickling sensation at the back of my neck and kept turning around, not sure what I was expecting to see.
"Are you okay?" Simon asked, as he turned back to look behind us at the same time I did. "What do you keep looking at?"
"Nothing." I shook my head. "I think all the sugar I ate today is making me antsy." I was hoping that paranoia was not going to be something I had to add to my list.
When we made our way up the steps and to my door, I turned to Simon. "Thanks for walking me home."
"Sure." Simon reached up, cradling the side of my head with one hand, brushing my cheek with his thumb. My heart thudded against my ribcage as I wondered if he touched all his friends this way. If so, no wonder hordes of girls seemed to follow him around. "Thanks for the cookies today."
"You're welcome," I said softly. Simon gazed at me silently, searching for something in my expression. I breathed in and smiled brightly, breaking the spell. "Well, see you Saturday."
"What's his name?" Simon asked in a low voice. He dropped his hand from my face.
"Who?" I asked dumbly, trying futilely to keep up with him again as his mood shifted.
"The guy you're waiting for."
"Oh," I replied, my mind scrambling. I blurted out the first name I could think of. "Bob."
Simon raised an eyebrow. "Bob? The guy that you're in love with is named Bob?"
"What's wrong with Bob?" I said defensively. "His name is Robert but he goes by Bob." I really did suck at lying.
"Okay," Simon said, studying my face. "You're in love with Bob."
I felt a blush starting but nodded vigorously. "Yup." I turned quickly and unlocked the door. I stepped in and turned around. "Well, see you later."
Simon nodded distractedly, looking introspective. "See you later."
I closed the door, relieved that I had escaped the conversation even though I wanted to kick myself.
Really? Bob?
CHAPTER NINE
I sat up gasping, tears streaming down my face. The girl's frantic pleas and screams of pain were still reverberating in my ears. I tried to catch my breath, my chest tight as I felt the cold insidious tentacles of fear wrapping around my heart.
I had seen the vision of the blonde girl being bludgeoned to death again. But it had seemed even more real this time. Instead of just being a spectator outside the bubble of violence, it was as if I was standing in the midst of the scene. I could feel the gravel crunching underneath my shoes, the wind numbing my cheeks. I could feel the ground reverberating beneath me with each vicious thud of the plywood against the girl's head. If I was close enough, I would have sworn that the blood would splatter against me. Yet I still couldn't see the attacker, just two hands clutching the piece of wood that would end someone's life.
My breath hitched as I wiped my eyes. I wondered desperately if this would be the end of me. It was bad enough that the visions were happening again with frequency. But the quality of the dreams were becoming so realistic that I found my mind rebelling against it, wanting to shut down not only from the pain but everything else. The visions had always seemed real, but I had always felt detached from them, like I was watching a movie. Now I was in the movie, but still just as helpless to do anything.
I looked at the clock on my bedside table and saw that it was almost four in the morning. I laid back in bed, forcing my breaths to even out. I had a full day of classes ahead of me, then an evening shift at Colette's. I wanted nothing more than to stay holed up in the apartment, building the shield up again around my mind so that I could function.
My junior year in high school I had started having visions almost every night. It began to take a toll on me mentally and physically. Physically because of the lack of sleep, but the mental damage was even greater. I began doubting my sanity, wondering if my mind was playing tricks on me and I wasn't having visions of people I would meet in the future. I wondered if instead I was slowly going crazy and imagining the whole thing. I began withdrawing more and more into myself. The meager social life I had established began slipping away as I holed myself in my room after school, often skipping school altogether. My father had noticed my disintegration but simply shook his head, commenting that he had always feared that I would be an underachiever.
Paranoia had also taken a hold of me as I was convinced that I was being followed. It had been hard to not feel as if eyes were following my every move, especially when I left my house. Life had begun to look very grim and I desperately wanted to escape it. Yet a part of me held strong. It was as if a part of me separated itself and observed my life dispassionately - aware of my suffering but also realizing that there was a possibility of something more. It was this part of me that had pushed the thoughts of suicide away, as tempting as they had been sometimes. And I had gotten through it. Near the end of my junior year, the number of visions had decreased. I was still having them on a weekly basis but not every day. I had some room to breathe and build myself back up so that each vision had less and less power to chip away at who I was.
By my senior year in high school, the walls were strong and I was able to be an active participant in life again. I still had frequent visions but I was able to compartmentalize that part of my life.
But back then the visions had never been so personal. Even during the early years of college when I was still having frequent visions, it was as if my mind had tuned into a horrible channel and I was unable to turn it off. But with this last vision, I was now within the scenes. Instead of just hearing and seeing the scenes of brutality, I was now a part of them - smelling the coppery odor of blood and feeling the burning of my eyes as the cold wind snapped against me. How could my mind build up walls against this? I feared it couldn't.
I laid in bed until dawn, too exhausted to make my way to the living room to distract myself with infomercials. I wasn't sure how I was going to make it through the day. I didn't even want to try. But the part of me that was determined to survive reared its head again, forcing me to get out of bed. I went through the motions of getting ready for the day and forced myself to leav
e for my classes. I left the apartment before Sarah woke up. I didn't think I could take her concerned questions. I knew she meant well, but I wasn't ready to face the truth myself, let alone to anyone else.
I was trudging out of the last class of the day, Economics, and making my way to Colette's when I felt the sensation of being watched again. I quickened my pace. Although the fellow students milling around me should have made me feel safe, it didn't make me feel any less alone. By the time I made it off campus and was only a few blocks away from Colette's, my anxiety kicked into high gear. The street I was walking on was deserted and the sky was darkening, casting everything into an ominous shadow. I cursed the early evenings of winter. I anxiously cast my eyes from side to side as I walked, not wanting to be surprised. Surprised by what, I wasn't sure. I didn't know if my fear was a result of my imagination, but I wasn't willing to chance it.
