Chapter 8 Annabelle
Annabelle
James’s words shocked her so much that Annabelle almost ran a red light. She slammed on the brakes just in time.
“Annabelle, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I got distracted and almost didn’t stop at the light. I’ll call you from the office.”
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have called you while you’re driving. Be careful.”
She pulled into a gas station after the light changed and put the car in park, her heart hammering in her chest. Hands shaking, she rummaged through her bag and found the pack of cigarettes.
She put down the window and lit one. Pulling out her phone, she navigated to a search engine to look up the crash.
Her eyes scanned the page, the pit in her stomach growing.
She held her breath when she got to the flight number: 108.
My God… It was the same as in her dream. What was happening to her?
She took a deep breath and called her best friend, Kiera.
They’d grown up together and had been inseparable until college, when Kiera went to the University of Maryland.
She’d met someone there and gotten married after college.
Now Annabelle only saw her in person on the few weekends a year they managed to clear their schedules and get away together, but they texted often.
The phone rang twice before Kiera picked up.
“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be at work?” Kiera asked. She was a freelance editor who worked from home.
“I’m on my way, but I need to talk to you.”
“What’s wrong?”
Annabelle could hear the concern in her voice.
“Something really weird’s going on. I’m having these bizarre dreams, and I think they’re starting to come true.”
“What do you mean? What kind of dreams?”
She told Kiera about the last two but for some reason withheld the one where James was choking her. “I mean, the restaurant thing could have been a coincidence. But how could I dream about a plane crash before it happened?”
“I don’t know. Are you sure you did? The crash happened early this morning, I think around six a.m. What time was your dream?”
“Not sure. I woke up at seven.”
“Could you have heard about it on TV or something and incorporated it into your dream?”
Annabelle considered this. She’d thought her phone alarm was a fire alarm in the hotel she was dreaming about.
But they didn’t have a television in their bedroom.
And if James had been listening to the news, he would have mentioned the crash before they left this morning.
“I don’t think so. Do you really think I could have dreamt about it after it happened? ”
“Maybe. I mean, there has to be a logical explanation. I’ve known you your entire life; I think I’d know if you were psychic.” Her tone was teasing, but Annabelle didn’t laugh.
“I guess you’re right. Maybe there was some kind of freak Siri thing where the report played on my phone. That must be it. This is why you need to move back to Connecticut. You’re the only one who can talk me down from the ledge.”
“I’m only a phone call away. Get to work, but call me later. We can FaceTime tonight and have a glass of wine. Sounds like you could use some girl time,” Kiera said.
“You’re on. I’ll text you later. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
She put the cigarette out in her coffee.
Feeling better, she got back on the road and headed to the office.
She was now even more certain that turning down the job was the right thing to do.
Regardless of whether or not her dreams were foreshadowing actual events, she wasn’t prepared to put in the kind of hours that the position required.
But she wondered if the man in her dream was part of the reason she was turning down the job.
Was she worried that she’d be unable to resist temptation?
When Annabelle got to her office, she shut the door, sat down at her desk, and typed “psychic dreams” into her search bar.
As she read article after article, she began to feel validated.
Apparently, these types of dreams were more common than she thought.
Some sources said that up to a third of people reported having some type of precognitive dream.
Precognitive dreams predict the future and, to be classified as such, must be recorded prior to the event happening, either by telling someone or writing it down.
These dreams were known to cause a lot of stress.
No kidding, she thought. She typed in “how to stop psychic dreams.” Some advice was to reduce stress.
Seriously? She kept clicking. There were lots of articles on protecting yourself from psychic attacks; some of them were way out there.
She leaned back in her chair, thinking. There had to be a reason this was happening to her.
Instead of trying to stop them, she needed to understand the dreams, to figure out the reason she was having them.
She couldn’t explain it, but she had a strong feeling that ignoring them would have catastrophic consequences.