Dreams of the Sleepless

In the Dark of Night

I was exhausted, more weary than sleepy. It looked like it might be another in a long string of sleepless nights. The cabin was cold from a day of constant air conditioning. I shut off the lights, turned off the sputtering machine for some quiet, and lay back on the bed listening to the muted sound of the frogs outside the cabin. Scenes from an earlier life floated in and out of my thoughts. Where did things go wrong? How did I end up broke and broken? It was hard to find the exact moment that everything fell apart.

At some point, the weight of a life in shambles brought down the darkness of sleep.

Somewhere in a haze, something. Eyelids strained against the weight of exhaustion. Only quiet darkness as they crept down. A click. Another. My eyes were wide open. What was that sound? The faint whine of a door hinge. The pale moonlight cast ghostly shadows on the walls. A sliver of light spread across the floor from the doorway. A distorted shadow was cast in the slice of moonlight. I tensed preparing for the moment that I would need to recoil. The shadow moved, quietly nearing the bed. Against the moonlit backdrop outside the open door, I could make out a dark silhouette. As my eyes adjusted to the layers of darkness, the outline became clearer. It was a woman's figure. Was this a nightmare? Was this Amber's spirit come back to haunt me . . . or perhaps warn me? I sat up, throwing my legs over the edge of the bed to face her. "Who's there?"

There was a quiet, familiar giggle. "It's me." The voice was Molly's.

I felt the knots in my shoulders and back release as I exhaled, "I think you just took ten years off my life."

Again, she giggled as she drew closer. In the moonlight, I could make out the faint features of her face. She was even more beautiful than I remembered. She wore a short, loose fitting dress, maybe a nightgown. It was hard to tell in the dark.

"How did you get in here? The door was locked."

I could make out a faint smirk as she shook her head. She held out her hand, palm open, the moonlight glinting from a key. "I lived here for most of my life. Do you really think I don't still have a key?"

I chuckled at my stupidity.

She began running her fingers through my long, wild hair. "We were at the best part of our day when everything went crazy," she sighed. "I've been lying in bed and sleep won't come. All that I can think about is that kiss. I came to see if you want to pick up where we left off."

I smiled up from the bed and hoped that she could see it in the moonlight. "I can't think of anything that I want more."

She leaned down and brushed her lips over mine., at first softly and tenderly and then with increasing passion. She straightened up and slipped the straps of her loose-fitting dress from her shoulders. It slid to the floor, landing with a soft flutter at her feet. Next, she reached up with both hands and unpinned her hair. With a toss of her head, it came tumbling down, cascading over her bare shoulders and breasts. She was shapely and exciting. She straddled my legs and pushed me back on the bed as she fell into my arms. We kissed with feverish intensity as I caressed her smooth skin. I could still smell the faint scent of gardenias. Her hair flowed down framing her face as she looked down on me.

Suddenly, she jerked back, screaming. She seemed suspended above me, her hands grasping desperately at her hair.

Then I saw it, a second figure silhouetted in the dark, a large figure. It was Jeb. He had Molly's hair grasped firmly in his left hand, suspending her upper body above the bed. He had her back arched at a painful angle making it difficult for her to get her feet on the floor. Before I could react, his right hand appeared at her throat. The glint of a long blade was unmistakable. This was no pocketknife. Even in the dark, I could tell that it was a fixed blade, probably one used for field dressing game, very sharp and nasty. Jeb held the blade to Molly's throat. The weight of her lower body pinned my hips to the bed. If I tried throwing her off, she could be sliced accidentally or purposely. I felt helpless.

She tried frantically to free her hair. She let out a shrill cry. Jeb snatched her hair tighter, twisting his fingers in the strands. "You whore!" he growled. "Cheating on me with this worthless wife killer! You're both gonna' pay."

Molly sobbed, pleading, "Jeb, please let me go. Please. Please, Jeb."

Jeb tightened his grip again. He shouted down at me. "Hey, boy. Maybe I'll let you watch as I slice her up." He raised the blade and flattened it against her face with the point near the corner of her eye. He slowly slid the flat of the blade down her face. Near her chin, he turned the blade slightly so that it nicked her, sending a small stream of blood running down her neck. He continued the track of the blade down her breasts again nicking her twice. The cuts were small, but the streams of blood made the scene ghastly.

I didn't see a good ending. Jeb wasn't going to let us go. He was going to kill us both. I decided that I would have to take the knife from him. I waited until his hand was within range of my left hand and farther from her throat. I attacked with both hands at the same time, twisting my body so that I could get my right hand close enough. I slid my left hand between his arm and her body, pulling outward to move the knife away from her. At the same time, I grabbed his fingers wrapped around the knife with my right hand twisting the blade away from her. I was counting on Jeb letting go of Molly's hair to use his free hand to gain control of the knife. As I grabbed for his hand, my fingers, wet with perspiration, slipped, and his knife hand came free. Before I could grab again, he recovered, yanked her head up higher. As she screamed and flailed, he slashed the blade across her throat, bathing us in a torrent of blood.

----- Author's Note -----

What do you think is about to happen?

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