Beyond Control (36 page)

The screams shattered my sleep. My heart was pounding seventy miles an hour. I felt for my fleece blanket to throw off, since I seemed to be stuck to my sheets with gallons of sweat. I looked around my blackened room, with only the red glow of the alarm clock displaying 2:00 am to comfort me. My heart sank as I lost the battle for another night’s sleep. I heard the gentle snore of my bulldog, Matilda, rattling through the air. She was used to my screams by now. I promised myself with a little whisper that I was safe. It was only a nightmare—another nightmare. That was all it was. It couldn’t possibly be real, that kind of terror. The dreams were coming closer together now, and worse yet they seemed to lead to nowhere but sleep deprivation.

I commanded myself to take deep, steady breaths to stay calm. Still shaky from the last images that had blasted into my brain, I tried to rid myself of the awful scene replaying over and over in my mind—my death. The mere thought of the attacks made me want to hide from the world in my closet. The black, swirling creatures were coming at me and through me from every direction. Their mouths open, displaying several sets of teeth with blood dripping from their lips, waiting for me to make a mistake. This was not a world I recognized. How could my mind even create such deadly monsters? The elements of realism spooked me beyond belief. I grabbed a tissue from my nightstand and wiped the dampness from my forehead, unsure of how much longer I could keep this up. Every night and every dream seemed different. They all had similar storylines, to a degree. Sometimes the unfamiliar characters reappeared to haunt me over and over again. It just depended on the night. Part of me felt as if I should know these people or at least the events that kept taking place. Why else would they keep reappearing? However, the events were so fantastical, the thought that I should recognize them made me feel even crazier for thinking it.

Fully awake now and completely disappointed in the prospect of another long and drawn out day without sleep, I trudged to the window and opened my heavy, red velvet curtains to expose the serenity of a dark outside world. The snow was slowly floating down leaving a beautiful pattern on the sidewalk, illuminated only by the streetlight. The sight brought a shiver to my bones. Even though a minute ago I’d had to wipe the wet heat of fear from my body. I couldn’t keep chasing and being chased like this. I couldn’t go on thinking my life was in danger every time I closed my eyes. I needed rest. I needed sleep. Lack of sleep was making things worse. I was sure of it.

“What is all of this telling me? I don’t even know the people in my dreams!” I whined to Matilda.

She responded with her usual snorts and snores, sprawling out even more on my mattress now that I had left a larger area for her enjoyment. I flipped on my nightstand light, which cast its familiar glow, as I attempted to move back into bed without displacing Matilda. A sigh escaped as I grabbed my latest book, which was ready and waiting for another night like all the others.

I opened the book to the third chapter as my mind attempted to identify the people in my dream. Seeing crumpled remnants of humans discarded all over was never something that I could get used to regardless of whether it was a nightmare or not. I was getting used to seeing the swirls appear to attack me, but I was also intrigued by the thought of trying to figure out the identity of the random strangers who appeared time and time again. Sometimes they were the same people. Other times, a completely new set would make an entrance. I always avoided looking into their eyes because, during one of my very first nightmares, all I saw was the dull glow of death staring right back at me. I couldn’t stomach it twice, and somehow my subconscious self knew to never look them in the eyes, whoever they were.

Thankfully, the latest batch of characters had seemed kind—as if I knew them from somewhere although that wasn’t possible. I’m sure they must have made an appearance in other dreams. I just don’t remember them. One stood out in particular. He was trying to save me, but it was too late. The black, soulless swirls got me. My nightmares had never gotten to that point before. Never did I know the conclusion to these nightmarish adventures before tonight.

This time, I saw how it ended. I didn’t make it. It wasn’t a painful process. I didn’t feel tortured. It seemed like I should have felt the attack. I didn’t. What I was left with were horrible feelings of despair and loneliness wrapping their way through every aspect of my life. My soul felt like an empty cavern as I saw myself being blown away into the wind. I remembered looking back at the strangers on the ground. They were looking up towards the sky at me as I left to wherever bodiless souls go. The one guy who was so memorable was staring back at me, tears streaming down his face. He was the one who tried to save me. He’d risked his own life against the monsters for me. He was only a minute too late. My heart now longed for him, this figment of my imagination. I didn’t know why.

I couldn’t shake the images this time. They were too haunting, too real. And now I was going crazy believing that these things had some sort of significance. Lack of sleep was finally catching up with my fragile state of mind.

The Grizzly Bear Lodge was packed as usual for this time of night. The lifts had just shut down at 3 pm. I glanced around the restaurant as everyone trickled in, partially undressing from their long day of romancing the powder. The pub was ideally situated at the base of Whistler Mountain, capitalizing on location rather than menu selection, but I enjoyed working here. It felt like home or as close to that as I could feel. I tried to shake off my long disastrous night of sleep while preparing for my shift. The images of my demise kept creeping into my thoughts. What was worse was that those images were virtually impossible. Yet, they plagued me, creating a pit in my stomach. I tried shaking the feelings of despair that kept trying to interfere with my ability to get back to my routine.

Outside the snow was falling and the night barely beginning. It was early in the season, only the upper half of the mountain was open, but it was enough to kick off the ski season in Whistler. There were the usual suspects scattered around the pub; the guys in their twenties, who had been taking nips from their flasks all day on the mountain in between runs, attempting to quickly get their server’s attention for more beer. Then there were the tables with the wives and girlfriends done up all cute, eagerly awaiting their other halves. Their actions only highlighted the fact that they had spent the day at the spa not the slopes. And, of course, there were the locals chatting up the bartender and grabbing the latest news on the hockey game.

This was the best part of my job—the people watching. Unfortunately, at times, it could also be the worst part of my job. There were days when it emphasized how alone I really was. As I puzzled over this fact, I quickly grabbed the next round of drinks from the bar and went to the corner table to deliver their long awaited goods. I had taken over the table from Karen who had to leave the pub rather quickly. It was unusual for her, and I hoped everything was okay. I made a mental note to give her a call when I got home.

I scooted between the wooden chairs that were being shuffled around as the restaurant filled up with people. The sound they made on the well-worn wood floors gave me warning that tonight was going to be busy. Exactly what I needed to keep my mind occupied.

The antique snowshoes that were balancing so delicately on the wall snagged my ponytail as I tried to make my way through the tables, and thankfully, no one saw as I fought with the decorations. Once I became unsnarled from the décor, I made my way to the table waiting for their drinks.

I saw a man with dark golden hair gently nuzzling a woman’s neck with his nose. She was thoroughly enjoying his affection. It was as if they were literally one unit. It made me chuckle. I’m not sure exactly why—maybe it was because it was a bit like my bulldog’s reaction to me when I got home from work. Or maybe it was my standard reaction when I longed for something I couldn’t have, or more appropriately, that I’d never had… except in my dreams.

Regardless, when I appeared with the drinks, they both looked up at me and I was immediately jolted out of my doldrums. Their eyes were the most brilliant green that I’d ever seen, like emeralds filled with dark black centers, outlined with striking jets of yellow. It made my blood freeze. They felt so familiar I almost gasped aloud but caught myself. My arms became weak, but I somehow managed to keep the tray steady. I stared in silence not sure what had come over me as I tried to regain my composure.

I gazed at both of them again and realized they had the same look in their nearly identical eyes. The shapes were different, hers more almond-like, his deeper set, but nonetheless the expression and color were the same. My heart started beating too fast for its own good, and suddenly I was alive, a feeling I hadn’t felt for a long time, if ever. I placed my hand over the rat’s nest in my hair thanks to the snowshoe fiasco, trying to smooth it down, attempting anything to try to look somewhat presentable around these unusually perfect creatures.

My fingertips zinged with electricity as I grabbed the coasters and placed them in front of the couple. I tried to hide the smile that was blooming across my face as I placed the napkins on the table. I caught that they, too, were taking me in. Strangely, they didn’t seem the least bit unnerved by my reaction to them. Maybe I was doing a better job of hiding my emotions than I thought. I doubted that though.

That’s when I noticed I had three drinks for the table but only two people awaiting them. I nervously looked at the woman as I tried so very hard to speak, but no words would come out of my mouth. I grabbed the mug of hot, steaming mulled cider and placed it in front of her as carefully as possible without spilling. My hands were shaking, and I couldn’t fathom what was happening. This woman was the most ethereal, enchanting person I had ever seen; besides the person sitting next to her that is. She was otherworldly. That wasn’t possible though. I was losing my mind. Lack of sleep now threatened my sanity. However, I couldn’t shrug off their familiarity, knowing if I had never seen them here in Whistler before that left only one option that didn’t seem plausible.

Wonderful feelings drifted over me, wrapping every part of my body in a loving embrace. I didn’t want to look away and I didn’t want to lose these feelings, yet I had to control myself. This was way too bizarre.

An eternity seemed to go by as I was drinking in everything about this couple, but in actuality it was only a mere second. My life stood still. After I glided the Blue Sapphire martini to the man without a drop spilled, I spun around and headed back to the safety of the bar register. Glancing back at them, I noticed they continued to stare at me, smiling as if they knew something was about to take place. I shoved my dull brown hair behind my ear so I could get one last peek at them.

That’s when I noticed that I had left the tray and the third drink on the table. Rather than go there again, I sprinted to the bathroom. Not knowing what was happening to me, I needed a moment to get myself together. I swung open the bathroom door and the wooden sleigh crashed against the door with a loud thud…another piece of décor out to get me. Everything in the Grizzly was placed with such great intention, which usually comforted me, but now it all seemed to get in my way. I needed to get to the sink and figure things out. I hoped I wasn’t getting the flu. Maybe I had caught whatever it was that made Karen go home for the night. Any sort of bug compounded with my body’s lack of sleep might explain why I was feeling so strangely tonight.

As I splashed water over my face, I couldn’t stop thinking about the two people I had encountered. What was it about them that made me feel this way and yearn for them? It was a euphoric sense that flooded over me. As I stood and looked in the mirror, I saw my reflection. I wished I hadn’t splashed all my makeup off, especially since I would be serving them for the rest of the night, the golden gods. My bedraggled expression now matched my mussed up hair. My store-bought brown hair looked especially lousy at a time like this. It made me wish I’d kept my natural auburn color.