Wake Me

Chapter Seven

Dani was walking in circles around her mother's headstone. She didn't realize how much anxiety would surface as she relived that tragic night. Her hands were trembling, so she shoved them deep into her pockets.

"I didn't really sleep that night. The one time I remembered falling asleep, my body practically lurched out of bed after being startled by something in a nightmare. And then, suddenly, a panic attack came full force; shortness of breath, sweats and uncontrollable shaking. So, I turned on my lamp and began searching my wrists for bruises or scratches for proof that I wasn't making up the story about Lars attacking me.

"But, I didn't find anything. I hurriedly jumped out of bed and searched my neck in the mirror as I recalled him choking me while he had his crazy conversation with himself. Again, nothing. I became even more upset. Laying back down, I forced myself to remember what happened; replaying each moment, each conversation before leaving the stables. I needed proof that it really happened, because I hadn't fainted and hit my head like dad purposed.

"Then, I remembered something...something I could prove to myself that it truly happened. I'd thrown a brush at him and it landed over by the hay bales. I didn't pick it up!" Dani squeezed her lower lip, recalling just how badly she needed that brush to be there for her sanity's sake.

"I couldn't wait until morning. I slipped on my night robe and silently creeped out of my room and down the stairs. Pulling on my rubber boots, I grabbed the flashlight and as quickly as I could, I found myself back in the stables.

"The lights flickered to life once I got inside, and there—exactly where I remembered it landing after I threw it, was the brush..."

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My alarm was set to buzz at four forty-five a.m., but I'd decided I wasn't going to get up and make breakfast. I also decided that my family was crazy, not me. No one came to my rescue last night. Wiping another round of tears from my cheeks, my feelings of disappointment in my family had surpassed my fear of Lars. But my trusty lamp had kept me company since my quest out to the stables in the middle of the night. And my diary, well, she'd taken note of each word seriously, as I'd written them in pen.

Dad peeked his head into my room a little after my alarm went off. "Good morning, Munchkin." He whispered.

I didn't bother looking at him, instead I closed my diary and rolled over; pulling the blankets up to my chin.

He sat on the edge of my bed, pulling the blankets off my shoulder. "How are you feeling this morning?"

Tugging on the blankets, they didn't budge, so I scooted down further.

"I called Dr. Kay last night after you...seemed so upset. He mentioned something that might help us all understand what happened to you last night."

Frustrated, I wiped the tears from my face with my bedsheet, sniffling uncontrollably.

"Dani, I need you to look at me."

I pulled my pillow over my face, sickened to hear that demand once again.

Dad sighed, "Fair enough." He'd gotten up and by the sound of his voice, he was standing in the doorway. "Take your time this morning. We'll be leaving for church at nine-thirty."

"I'm not going." I mumbled.

"Dani, you can be mad at me and your brothers, but God has always done you right." He shut the door before I could grumble a new excuse.

Luckily, for my sake, I'd finally fallen asleep for about three hours after dad had left my room. When I went downstairs in my Sunday dress, I found a note on the kitchen table. Dad had written what Dr. Kay had explained about my traumatic brain injury. He said that in certain stressful situations, my mind can create events that trigger involuntary thoughts or illusions. Whether my mind had simply recalled subconscious dreams or nightmares, they'd seem real to me.