The Wanderers

Chapter 1

I had the dream again. I had to muffle my cries when I awoke not wanting to rouse my parents. If they knew I was still having the dream, I would be right back where I started. Weekly visits to the psychiatrist and a return to the daily doses of anti-depressants I worked so hard to get off.

It was the third time this month I had the dream and kept it to myself. I didn't want my parents to think I couldn't handle starting college in the fall.

The dream was always the same. It started with my boyfriend, Kyle and I taking the trip to his parent's cabin. We had decided after graduation that the trip to the cabin would be the first time we would be together. Kyle wasn't a virgin, but I was. He never pushed me to have sex, which was one of the reasons I loved him so much. He was always kind, gentle, and had great patience when it came to me.

The night of the accident was what started the dreams. I wish I could say they were just that, dreams, but they weren't. They were a constant reminder, forcing me to relive the events that unfolded during that fateful evening. The dreams were so vivid all I had to do was close my eyes and I was there.

While Kyle and I rode silently in his SUV, too nervous to talk, I thought about how great that night was going to be and how much I loved him. All those feelings came to a crashing halt as I shouted at Kyle to look out for a man standing in the middle of the road. Kyle swerved so hard the SUV flipped and went skidding across the lane. My cries of horror were silenced by the sound of metal scraping against concrete and the crunching noise the windows made when they shattered.

Disoriented from the crash I struggled to get out of the car. I called Kyle's name several times. He didn't respond. I turned my head towards my now broken window and through my blurred vision I saw a man approaching the vehicle. I started to scream for help, but the man did not supply his aid. Instead, he stood there and watched as the SUV started to burn. I stared back at the man, my expression pleading for him to help us. I couldn't see his face, it was too dark, but his eyes, I swear they were glowing. I thought maybe it was a trick of the light, reflection of the moon, but my gut told me I was not hallucinating. I stopped calling for his help.

I knew I had to get us out before the car became completely engulfed in flames. My shaking hands grasped the edge of the window frame. Adrenaline kicking in as I pulled myself out from the wreckage. I hobbled around the front, trying to get to Kyle, but before I had a chance to reach him, the strange man appeared in front of me from out of nowhere. I sucked in a sharp breath as he gripped my arms. My eyes closed as the fear started to set in but when I opened them moments later, he was gone. There was no trace of him anywhere. Pushing my fear aside I turned to Kyle trying desperately to pull him out, but he was caught in the wreckage and the heat from the fire was too much. Through my tears I screamed and pulled, trying to free him. Seconds later, I was flying, rolling onto the hard dirt and into the thick trees. I struggled to lift my head as the weight of the body on top of me kept me down. My face was protected by long arms as I heard a pop and loud boom. I screamed as I turned and watched the SUV burn.

I had this same dream over and over again. It never changed and it always started and ended the same. I felt this was my punishment for surviving the crash when Kyle didn't.

The man that they say saved me that night was a local resident who heard the crash, though I never did see him or find out his name. He disappeared quickly after the cops arrived. They told me I was lucky he heard the crash or I, too, might not have survived.

The dreams were a constant reminder of that painful event I endured back in June. A reminder of the day I tried so hard to forget. Although I recounted to my parents and various therapists what had happened, I never told anyone about the strange man with the glowing eyes. I was too afraid to mention it and they would probably just say I imagined him due to the severity of the trauma. I never did see his face. I was too focused on the intense glow of his yellow eyes.