Dream Catcher

Chapter 5 - I Love Him, Right? (Part 1)

I looked at the peace in his face as he slept next
to me, his tangled long hair in casual disarray
on the down-filled, hospital pillow. As I gazed, I
felt an almost...longing, inside of me, a want to
reach out and touch his face with my cold
fingers, just to see if it really was real, and not
just another figment of my imagination.
One of the machines next to me started beeping
frantically, and I sat up in the bed and carefully
stared peeling wires off my body, but the
beeping wouldn't stop. As my breathing sped in
frustration, so did the beeping. Then I realized
that the machine was mimicking my heartbeat. I
reached down my torn and bloody hoodie and
ripped off the wire that was still monitoring my
pulse. The machine whined a pure constant
pitch, which sent a plump nurse dressed in blue
scrubs scurrying to my bedside. She grabbed my
head, and looked me straight in the eyes, no
doubt trying to check the dilation of my pupils
to see if I really was having a heart attack. She
looked for a few seconds, then recoiled back to
the end of the bed, not even noticing the fact
that I was holding the wires..
"Your eyes... your eyes are purple..." the nurse
exclaimed.
"Yes. I am quite aware of that. Trust me, I'm
fine." I confided in her quickly, not wanting to
have this argument again. She stared at me wide
eyed, then turned her gaze to the whining
machine next to me. Absentmindedly, she took
the many wires from my hands as she walked
up to the machine and thumped in hard once
on the top. The machine almost groaned and
died off.
"I swear, we seriously need some new
equipment. I'm sorry darling." I shivered at
being called "darling". It reminded me of the
man from the "Dark World", as my mind was
now referring to it as.
"Are you cold? I can get you a sweater or
something? Or I can send the nice man waiting
for you out front to fetch you one?" the nurse
asked sweetly. Nice man? My dad?, I thought to
myself. I shuddered again as I thought about it
being the man from the dream again. I brought
my legs up, hugging them to my chest, dragging
some of the bed sheet with me. I looked softly
into the nurse's eyes.
"Another blanket would be nice..." I asked
gently. "And, um who is the 'nice man' waiting
outside for me?" My question came out layered
thick with fear. The nurse must have sensed it.
"Why, dear? Are you afraid of him? Is there
someone hurting you?" the nurse came right out
with it in her squeaky, high-pitched voice. I
wanted to say yes, but something inside me told
me she was going to think I was insane. I
struggled with my inner turmoil, my face
contorting in indecision. I finally decided I
would tell her the vague truth.
"No, no. I," I started, stuttering. "I think I just
had a... a... nightmare. Yes, that's it." I nodded
my head pensively at first and then more
vigorously as I approved what I was saying.
"Alright, sweetheart," the nurse said, stroking
my messy hair back around my ear like I was
six. "But it's over. You're safe here now." She
gently tapped my cheek.
"Ok," I said automatically as I clutched the bed
sheet closer.
"There," the nurse comforted. She looked down
at her hand. "I'll get that blanket for you. But
you may want to visit the bathroom before the
young man waiting for you pokes his head in to
visit. You're in no presentable shape. Follow
me, the bathroom is just down the hall." The
nurse recommended as she gently pulled the IV
out of my arm, causing me to wince.
As she pulled a band aid out of her numerous
pockets and wrapped it over my wrist, I asked,
"You still haven't told me who it is. The guy I
mean. Can you at least tell me his name?"
The nurse slowly tried to pull me out of the bed
saying, "He says his name is Trevor. He seems
really sweet. I wouldn't turn him down if I were
you." She winked at me.
I froze where I was, completely immobile. I
glanced hastily at the boy next to me. He face
was still as perfect as ever, though his brow
furrowed in deep concentration. He seemed to
be still asleep.
"Leave him, darling. The other nurses will
attend to him."
It wasn't like I was afraid he would die. I was
afraid he would wake up and try to kiss me
again in front of my boyfriend. Yes, Trevor was
my sweet and innocent lover.
"I... I think that bathroom thing is a good idea."
I said hastily, almost running out of bed now. I
didn't want Trevor to see me covered in blood.
He would be freaking out for the next year if
not more, knowing the way he worried about
me. Sometimes I thought he cared a little too
much. I even threw around the idea that he was
alien for a while. Shows how eventful my life
had been before recently.
The nurse lead me down a hallway to the end
and held open the door for me. I rushed in and
ran to the closet mirror. I looked at my face. I
saw the thick streaks of blood that coated my
cheeks, dry and cracking. But other than overly
messy hair and beat up clothes, I looked fine. As
I ran over to the sink and began to scrub my
cheeks clean, the nurse came up behind me with
a blanket and a hair brush, and started to brush
out my frizzy and tangled chocolate strands.
"So, do you know this Trevor boy?" the nurse
asked looking for gossip, but she said it as
though she was trying to start casual
conversation.
"Yeah," I said, though the response was gruff
and futile. The streaks of blood on my cheeks
were not coming off nicely, causing me to
become rather frustrated.
"He seems nice," she said gently, prying for
more information than she tried to appear to.
"He really is. He's very sweet. Cares a lot." I
responded in broken phrases, between
scrubbing my face.
"Seems so, how do you know him?" the extent
of the nurses questions astonished me. Shouldn't
she be getting back to other patients? , I thought.
"He's my boyfriend." I stated simply. "Though
barely, I suppose. He really does love me. I
think. Would almost die if something ever
happened to me. Explains why he's here. But I
dunno. I think he cares too much sometimes. It's
kind of annoying." In my frustration I told more
than I was planning. My concentration was on
cleaning my face so Trev wouldn't pass out
when he saw me.
"Well, it's sweet though. Ever kissed you?" the
nurse pressed on. I figured I'd told so much
already, I might as well tell the rest. I sighed.
"Well, once I guess. And I technically kinda
kissed him. He's really shy. Year younger than
me. Took all his courage away just to ask me out
I guess."
"Poor kid. How long you been dating?" Why on
earth did the nurse even care so much?, I asked
myself pensively. I tried to stifle my suspicious
thoughts by telling myself it was probably her
job to make sure he didn't try to kill me today,
or that her job was just really boring.
"A year," I replied reflexively. It was true.
Maybe a little longer, but that was close enough.
"A year!" the nurse exclaimed. "You've been
dating the kid for a year and he hasn't even
kissed you himself? You need to get yourself
another guy!"