Wake me

20: Dream after Dream

The floor is hot, almost too hot. Hotter than the sun, and as my toes step on the dusty surface, I can feel their skin being burnt off. My heel skin is cracking and peeling, and the sweat on my forehead drips down my face so that when I lick my lips, I taste nothing but salt. The tight walls around me seem to be getting closer, closing in on me as I stand in this unbearable heat, like a thick, hot fog. The high temperature makes my hair cling to the sides of my face, and my number hands tremble. My vision is blurry, clouded by the dust and sweat that sticks to my eyeballs. I constantly rub at them, trying to see the view ahead of me, but it just gets worse. They sting, my cheeks feeling raw and red. I taste the chalky, bloody liquid on my tongue and I try to swallow it down, but it keeps returning. There is no point, I tell myself, I'm going to die here. But I don't want to die here, in this sticky room of heat and boiling temper. I just want to get out. I want to rip off the clinging clothes from my slimy skin. I want to shave my head free of hair, I want to chop off my hands so that I won't have to feel clammy palms ever again. Why is it so hot, anyway? My fears? The sun? Questions. I use my hands to try push away the smoggy heat, rising in spirals close to me. There was no water besides the sweat dripping from my face and settling uncomfortably on my upper lip. I pinch the bridge of my nose, claiming myself down, trying to ignore the red and yellow dots that adorn my already blurred vision. They spiral around in patterns, making everything go grainy, like somebody turned the sharpness up too much. The constant, banging throb in my temples refused to go away, slowly moving to behind my eyes and my neck. I didn't like this heat, I wanted to get away.

I opened my eyes. Still dark. I couldn't escape. What was reality? What was a dream? I tried to push them away, but I was going insane. I couldn't picture anything, and the dreams replayed like a movie in my fitful head. My chest felt tight, and my eyes told me I needed more sleep. So I shut the.

"So there's this blond girl, right? And she goes into a library and everybody is sitting studying, so she goes to the reception and she says, 'Sorry ma'am, I'm looking for the doctor?' And the receptionist looks at her and whispers, 'Sorry Miss, this is a library.' So the blonde looks at her, and says, 'Sorry!' She whispers, 'I'm looking for a doctor?' Get it!" There's a roar of cackling laughter at the back of the car, and Bruce smiles proudly. I roll my eyes, ignoring the clanging bottles in their hands. Bruce was such a silly guy, always trying to make me feel out of place with this bleached hair of mine. I hold the wheel tighter, and look over at Luke, whose ocean eyes were on me. His crooked smile still gave me butterflies, and I slowed the car down. Tina was giggling hysterically, and I knew it was because she was under the influence of alcohol. She would never admit it to me, of course. Samantha was attempting to make a joke too, but her punchline was very weak. I looked away, towards the road, and watched the small plops of rain burst on the windshield. Luke keeps quiet, but turns the music a bit louder. He loves his old music, just like I do. He really understands that old music is the way to the soul, as my father always says. Just then, before I had time to notice, a car comes rushing forward and hits mine. I try to swerve, but end up saving only half the car. I'm thrown forward, my body coming into unwanted contact with the steering wheel. Luke is lurched forward, but I can't see what's happening behind me. I hear windows shatter, and car tires screeching. Suddenly, water manages to get into the car. I can't feel anything besides my lungs rattling in my ribs, is that normal? I keep hold of Luke's hand, ignoring the blood-curdling screams from the back of the car. The car is soon filled with water, and I can barely see through the dark water. I feel Luke's hand, and can make out his body, his face. I can feel my body closing, shutting down, so I squeeze his hand tightly one last time before my eyes shut.

I lurch forward, barely breathing. Sharp breaths felt like stabs. Before I could say anything, I was dragged into dreams again.

"Grace," she giggled, "No, no, don't." I stuck my hand in the tub of red paint and smeared it all over Tina's painting. I thought she was going to laugh, but her eyes welled up with sad tears. "I'm sorry, Tina." I said quickly, trying to wipe off the paint with my chubby fingers, but it only made it messier. Her pretty tree was now covered with a hand smear of red. "Now look what you've done," she sobbed, "My apple tree is ruined."
"No, it's not." I shrugged, "Let's just paint over it! We can make one really big apple." Tina's plaits lifted as she threw her head up, and grinned a toothy smile. She had just lost one of her front baby teeth, and her smile seemed cuter. Her plastic, Barbie ringed fingers were coated with red as she filled in some spaces. I used a muddy brown colour to paint the stem, and Tina gladly painted a smiley worm out the side of the Apple. We both grinned and wiped our hands on our overalls, which Grammy had just gotten for us. We knew Mommy was going to be mad, but it didn't matter. It always came out in the washing machine anyway, even when mommy said it wouldn't. Tina believed that Jane had special clothes powers, Jane was our new maid who could get dirt, paint or food stains out of anything. 'It's the amount of sugar she puts in her tea,' Tina had always warned me. With a bubbly laugh, Tina greased my face with some green paint and told me I looked like an ogre. I made a scary sound and chased her around the shed, until she got tired and collapsed into a fit of cackles. I fell down next to her, my head on her tummy. We stayed there, laughing away until the laughs turned into moans because our tummies hurt. "Grace," Tina said, "you know what?"
"A huh?"
"I'm glad you're my sister."
"Me too." I agreed.
"I hope that when we grow old, like Mommy or Daddy, that we stay like this. We mustn't let Adult Syndrome ruin us." Tina warned.
"Yes," I agreed, "we must stay this old."
"And we can go to college together, and be the special clever children who get all the gold, glittery trophies." Tina added, with a big smile.
"Yes, that will be nice. Mommy will be happy, too." I replied, peeling off dry paint from the denim.
"You know, if Mommy finds us in here she won't be happy anymore! We should clean up." Tina jumped up.
"Tina?"
"Mhm?"
"I love you, sissy." I murmured.
"I love you too, sussa." She smiled, "I do."

When I woke up, tears coated my face. I shook, I trembled. What was happening? I couldn't get out of this. It was haunting me, these dreams. Who were these people? I cried, knowing that I knew them but I couldn't remember them. How did they fit into my life?

"Grace, we need to talk to you," Dad said gently. I lay in the hospital bed, my hands cooped up under the warm blanket. When dad came in though, I took one out so that he could hold it. He always did. I liked him coming to visit, because he was always busy with work.
"Is everything... Okay?" I croaked out. I could barely speak, and the emotions on my dad's face were hard to read. What was he thinking? He sat down, and took hold of my hand with both of his, using his thumb to stroke my palm. "Dear," he sniffed, "Where's your mother?"
"I don't know, she told me she was-"
"Sorry, am I late?" Mom moved into the room fully and closed the door. Why did she look so... Hollow? Her eyes were sunk in and red, her cheeks puffy. They cried a lot, and I wasn't surprised. We had just had a fatal car accident, it was a wonder everybody was okay. Well, at least the Doctor's told me they were.
"Grace," Dad said shakily, "Your sister, Tina, she..." His voice cut off, tears welling in his eyes.
"She? She what?" I asked, stuttering.
"Tina died, Grace." Mom said the heart-breaking words for him. I didn't even know what my body was doing. My heart lurched forward, then crashed just like the car, splintering into a million little pieces. Tears welled up in my throat, gushing down my face. Blood ran to my cheeks, and I couldn't do anything. My body trembled with every deep, heart aching sob. My sissy! The adorable, chubby pigtailed sister who painted with me, who sung songs with me, who was always there with me. My sister. I cried, sobbing and sniffing. I was a mess, and I tried to push my parents away. I told the, that they had the wrong Tina, that it couldn't be true. My strong and honest Tina, my lifeboat and rock.
"And-" dad began.
"Leave it," Mom pushed the topic away.
"What! Tell me!" I cried out.
"Bruce... Samantha..." Dad didn't have to say anything else.
I couldn't feel anything. I couldn't tell if I was dying.
"I want to die! Kill me, let the doctors kill me. I can't live like this. Life is stupid!" I screamed, tears deluging down like the flood in the bible. My mother and father pinned me down, their own eyes stained with red, thin veins and tears of shattered love and hope.
"I'm going to kill myself!" I bellowed. A nurse came in, rushing forwards, stroking my hair.
"It's okay, shush! Shush, it'll be fine dear. Come, come. Come now." Her comforting hand stroked the strands of tear soaked hair out of my face. My lips trembled, and I could no longer wail any other words out of them. My throat was tight, paining with hurt.
"Can't they wake up?" I managed to weep, "I need them too."
"If they could wake up," the nurse whispered, "They would. They wouldn't want you to die, Grace. They want you to live, too." My body fluttered, convulsing into spasms of coughs and cries, tears and gasps. I wanted to die. But I wanted to live.

I flung my eyes open, and was immediately blinded by a bright light. I flinched, but kept them open. I felt someone holding my hand- it was warm, familiar. "Mom? Dad?" I managed to breathe out through my lips. My body was weak, my mind racing. Somebody sprung to their feet, standing at my side. "Grace!" They exclaimed, "Grace Parker. Oh my gosh, Grace Parker. I love you so much." I felt their arms fling around me, and I held them close. They smelt of mint and all things sweet. Luke? Luke!
"Luke," I mumbled, "Is that you?"
The person pulled away, and my heart soared when I saw the soft, ash hair falling over glass blue eyes, and the jagged smile. Tears were sliding down his face, but the smile made me want to cry. "Yes," he cried out, "Yes. Oh my God, Grace Parker. I love you, you're awake, oh Grace." I had never seem him cry like that before. But why wasn't he- why? Wasn't I in the- room? What about... I sniffed and felt confused but happy tears escape.
"I need to- where am I?" I asked shakily.
"Shush and kiss me, Grace," Luke murmured in my ear, "I'll tell you everything later." And I did not hesitate, I pulled the love of my life close to me and kissed him. I kissed him, and I felt my body come alive.