Fool Me Once, Fool Me Twice

Just A Little Unexpected

We’re dragged into the helicopters and I can hear Grace shouting for me.

“Jenny!” Her face is red from tears, “Jenny, please help me!”

But I can’t help her. They’ve taken all my fight. I couldn’t help mom, I couldn’t help Tig and I can’t help Grace. All I can do is stand and watch Skyline take everything from me.  

 “Jenny!” She shouts again, “For Christ’s sake, Jennifer, will you help me out a little?” My eyes snap open and I’m back where I started; back in the closet. I’m panting and drenched in sweat, but I can still hear Grace calling my name. I quickly strip out of my pajamas and yank on a pair of black skinny jeans and a black long sleeve shirt before cautiously edging out of the closet. I know in my mind that it was just a dream, but I’m still nervous about what I will find once out of the sanctuary of this tiny room.

“Can you help me move this box?” Tig asks as I finally emerge. The sight of her takes me a little off guard. I skip over to scoop her up in my arms. I hug her tight and find myself laughing.

“Jenny, is everything alright?” Nate asks as he walks past and kisses my cheek.

“Everything’s fine now,” I sigh in relief, “I had this awful dream…”

“I wondered what all the noise was.” Grace piped up as she finished stacking boxes by the window.

“Sorry if I woke you,” I put Tig down and pulled Grace into the circle of my arms, “But it really was a horrible dream.”

“What was it about?” Kitty asks as she trips over a pile of laundry by the kitchen.

“It doesn’t matter.” I shrug it off and help Tig move her box. The morning continues in almost complete silence, nobody speaking because there’s nothing more to say. After a while we’re simply waiting for night to fall so that we can get it over with, or maybe it’s just me that feels like that.

We drive out to the edge of the city, but decide it will be safer to walk from there. We left Tig with a sitter so she’ll be safe, but we all know she was dying to come with us. Walking through the trees, concealed by the weightless and suffocating darkness, I begin to dig through my memories. I push as far as I can, to what I believe is my first memory. I was six and my I was at the park with Jack Graye, the man I knew as my father, and he was chasing me. I ran as fast as I could and shrieked with laughter. The sun streamed down through the leaves of a towering oak tree and the grass clearing in which we played was bathed in golden sunlight. It didn’t take long for Jack to catch me, and when he did I tried to wriggle away but seemed paralyzed by giggles. He threw me up in the air and caught me again before sinking to the ground where we both lay in the grass. I began to roll away from him but he started to tickle me before I could escape. I can remember that day with perfect clarity; the feel of the sun on my summer bronzed skin, the way I could barley breathe from laughing so hard and the absence of Amelia, the mother that never came to play at the park with us. But I was young and tried not to focus on such things. I would focus on the flowers brushing lightly against my arms and legs as I rolled and crawled around in the grass and the sweet smell of summer that enveloped my senses with every movement. That smell. It’s strange, like the scent does not belong with the memory I can see. Then I realize; it doesn’t belong with that memory. On remembering the fragrance of that summer’s day in the park another seems to reveal itself, like a child jumping out at you during a game of hide and seek.

I was younger; smaller than in the park with Jack. I sensed nothing, only the smell of the summer wrapping around me like a comforter. I felt someone’s hands on me and suddenly I was lifted and held against their body. I was against her body; I could smell the familiar scent that lingered on her skin. I began to move and whimper, unhappy with being moved from where I slept.