Capable Of Murder...But Not Love

CHAPTER 8

Ever since I could remember, I've always been a light sleeper, or as I like to call it...an alert sleeper.

Even as a child, the smallest of things would wake me up in the middle of the night; a leaky faucet, a cricket chirping outside my window, the low whistling of the wind. I mean hell, I've even been woken up from the sound of leaves rustling...LEAVES.

However, there are times where I am truly grateful for being such an alert sleeper.

For instance, at my old school it was considered a "tradition" (or so I was told) for a group of girls in the year above you to sneak into your dorm room in the middle of the night and shave your head. Sort of like a "welcome-gift" for all the newcomers.

But, being that my room resided at the very end of the hallway in the old Saint Josephine Dormitory Chambers, which had been put on hold from any new renovations; I could hear the stairs obnoxious squeaking, the wooden floor panels excessive groaning, and the sounds of the girls low giggling before they even reached the top step. Needless to say they were very much surprised to find me...wide-awake...sitting in the dark...silently waiting for them...with a pocketknife that I had recently...liberated, from one of the shops in the city in my hand.

After that little incident and a few choice words on my behalf that I probably shouldn't repeat. It didn't take long for them to avoid me like the plague, and unlike the girls before me, I never fell victim to the Manchester's Preparatory School for Young Girl's so called "tradition".

Being an alert sleeper has also come in handy whenever Patrick decided to come home drunk...or sneak into my room in the middle of the night. Whenever I would hear his car pulling into the driveway, or the harsh creaking of the floor boards underneath his weight as he crept towards my bedroom I would quietly sneak out of bed and hide. And the more frequent his "nightly visits" came the more I grew use to his sick games and hid, to the point where after a while it became second nature to me.

But nevertheless, there are those very rare occasions where I get to experience what the other side of the spectrum feels like, and am able to sleep through the entire night. Practically dead to the world, so dead in fact, that not even a vigorous thunder storm could wake me...even if it tried.

Unfortunately for me though, this was not one of those occasions, because I awoke to the sound of footsteps climbing up the stairs.

Tucking my hand underneath my pillow, I grasp the one thing that was sure to make me feel safe and secure...my pocketknife.

As the muffled foot steps shuffled closer to the door, my grip only seemed to tightened around the cool metal handle. Although my eyes were closed; hopefully giving off the illusion of a peaceful sleeping figure...I was far from it.

In fact, I was wide awake, my adrenaline charging through my body like shoppers at a Black Friday sale.

I waited, even though just about every cell in my body was itching-telling me to strike I did not move a muscle. Even when the door to my bedroom clicked opened, and the soft pitter patter of feet shuffled towards my bed, I did nothing. I forced myself to remain as calm and as still as I possibly could.

Focusing on my breathing and the different self defense strategies I could use against my intruder, the words of my former self defense coach began swarming my mind.

"...Focus Cree...Keep those hands up! Remember what I said...it's best to catch your opponent off guard than to have your opponent catch you off guard...NOW FOCUS CREE!"

My hand involuntarily grasped the handle of the knife tighter, to the point where I was sure that there was no longer blood circulating in my fingers.

"Stay focused Cree," I told myself, "remember what coach said-remember what he said...it's better to catch your opponent off guard, than to have your opponent catch you off guard."