Dream Walkers

Chapter 1: Nightmares (Samari)

Chapter song: Chasing Cars - Snow Patrol

Click. Click. Click. Red heels made their way down the west wing corridor searching for a matching purse. The woman peeked into every room skimming over the neatly made beds, tightly shelved books, polished shoes and such to find the purse. Not the first room. She looked into the next hoping it was there. Still nothing. Just a storage room used for old sewing machines, board games, and old clothes. She poked her head with its perfectly set hair into the next spotting her shoes' soul mate in the far corner; her purse. Her hand slid along the wall seeking the switch and flipping it up with no results. The woman frowned trying it again a few times as if it would magically brighten the room at her touch. Something felt off. She'd just been in here and the lights were fine. Her stomach sunk and she felt the need to get out. As soon as this thought crossed her mind she saw him. The man stepping into the little light that the moon outside provided. Before she could even think to run he had her by the arm and against the wall, his knife pressed to her throat harshly. If she gulped it would surely cut in. This man, someone she knew well, smiled smugly like he'd made a great accomplishment and pushed the knife harder into her throat until she was fighting for air. Blood was forming at the knifes blade and leaking down her chest. She was finding it harder to breathe and tears slid down her cheeks thinking about having to leave behind-

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"Dad!" I was sitting up gasping for air and tears were streaming down my face. These dreams seemed to come more and more.

Dad barreled into my room in his boxers and his red blanket draped around his shoulders. "What happened? Another nightmare?" I could see the slight irritation in his face but it was gone as quickly as it had come. He came over and sat next to me, enveloping me in his arms. Hugging him only came on rare occasions- usually after a 'nightmare'. Dad wasn't big on hugs. He was big on anything really. Mostly, dad was just a loner. Or he tried to be. He couldn't actual be a loner since he was a single parent. Dad was pretty much forced into fatherhood.

Dad being so remote meant having no one to talk to about my secret. I could remember trying to explain that my dreams were things that actually happened, but he didn't want to hear it. He thought I was trying to push his buttons. So from then on they just became 'nightmares'.

On these rare occasions that dad would fall asleep trying to comfort me, I took the time to remember things about him from when I was little. Nothing in particular ever came to mind. I could remember him holding mom's hand. I remembered him crying at the funeral and not saying a word to me for that following week. And I remembered the women. All the women that were at each others throats to get to dad. Out of all the fathers of the kids in my grade, dad was the youngest; the cutest. He never gave those women a lick of acknowledgment. We would be standing outside of a classroom for parent teacher conferences and some random lady would always flirt with him and receive glares from the other single moms who wanted their chance at him. Dad kept those conversations closed and kept his answers minimal until the woman ran out of things to say. I'd always thought them to be petty and naïve. Once when I had told dad what I think of them he gave me a wide smile and a pat on the shoulder, one of the best compliments I have ever received from him.

I curled close to dad hoping his presence could some how chase the dreams away. That is if I can actually fall back asleep. I focused on his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest and soon felt my eyes getting heavy.

***