Chapter 40 Annabelle
Annabelle
I’m at the hospital, standing in front of a set of double doors that say “ICU” and I can’t catch my breath. A gurney has whizzed past me and through the doors. On the gurney—Scarlett, bloodied and bruised. James comes running up to me, his face wet with tears.
“They wouldn’t tell me anything on the phone. Is she alive?”
I start to answer, then James’s parents, Charlotte and Art, come over. She’s wagging her finger at me.
“It’s all your fault, all your fault.”
I try to get away from them, to go through the doors, but they won’t open.
“Leave me alone!” I yell, but they surround me, all of them chanting the same thing. “It’s all your fault. All your fault.”
I push James aside and run in the other direction. But I stop, shocked. My mother is standing at the other end of the hallway, staring at me. I run toward her.
“Mom!” I yell. My heart lifts at seeing her. She looks like herself before she got sick. I can see the intelligence in her eyes.
“Oh, Annabelle. What have you done?”
I don’t understand what she means. I grab her into a hug, but she pushes me away.
“It’s all your fault. Scarlett may die, and it’s all your fault.”
“No!” I yell. Loud music is playing, and I cover my ears. I want to disappear. Everyone is so angry at me. The music gets louder and louder, its tempo fast and cheerful.
“Mr. Blue Sky” was playing. Her phone. James must have changed the alarm.
Was that his idea of a relaxing way to wake up?
Annabelle jumped out of bed and grabbed her phone from the nightstand, silencing the alarm.
She went to her settings and changed her password.
What the hell was he doing, playing around with her phone anyway?
He walked into the bedroom.
“Why did you change my alarm?”
“I told you. Waking up to a blaring sound isn’t good for you.”
“Neither is the song you picked. It’s just as loud. Please, stay off my phone.” She didn’t want him snooping around on her phone.
James cocked an eyebrow. “Sorry. I was only trying to help. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”
She rolled her eyes. She wasn’t in the mood to be civil. “Stop being so helpful and worry about yourself for a change.” She didn’t know what was wrong with her, but something in her wanted a fight.
“What is going on with you? You’re always on edge lately. Is everything okay at work?”
Contrition filled her. These damned dreams weren’t James’s fault. “I’m sorry. It’s an adjustment, that’s all. My new boss is not the best.”
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that, but please don’t take it out on me. You know you don’t have to stay there if—”
“Really, James? You’re going to tell me my job is meaningless, and that I should quit if I don’t like my new boss?
I get it. You make a lot of money, Doctor Reynolds.
But I happen to get a lot of fulfillment from my job, and I’ll be vested in another year, which will mean a lot of money in stock—since that seems to be all you care about. ”
His face turned red. “Now, wait a minute. That’s not fair! I never said your job was meaningless.”
“No, but you’ve implied it. How would you feel if I told you to quit your job when things weren’t perfect? Just because I’m not a doctor doesn’t mean that I haven’t worked hard to hone my skills and make a name for myself at my firm.”
“I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”
Annabelle went into the bathroom and slammed the door, leaning against it as tears ran down her face.
Taking a deep breath, she held it and then released it, trying to talk herself down.
The dream was caused by anxiety, she told herself.
She definitely needed to call her old therapist and schedule a session.
She was waking every day now with that horrible feeling of impending doom.
Free-floating anxiety, Monica had called it.
It was like a physical presence in the pit of her stomach.
Once she’d showered and dressed, her mood improved. The girls were finishing up their breakfast, and James was loading the dishwasher. She walked over to him.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I’ll do better.”
He nodded, glancing over at the girls, then back at her. “Let’s talk later.” He gave her a peck on the lips. “Have a good day, everyone,” he said as he walked out the door.
“All right, girls, leaving in ten?” Annabelle said.
“Okay,” they answered in unison, getting up and gathering their things.
“My backpack’s in my room. Be right back,” Olivia said, running from the kitchen
“Oh, Mom,” Scarlett called out.
“Yeah, hon?”
“Avery invited me to go skiing with her and her family this weekend. Can I go?”
Annabelle’s dream flashed through her mind. “Um, I don’t know. We haven’t met her or her parents yet. I’m not sure I’m comfortable with you going away with people I don’t know.”
“Ugh, come on! You can always call her mom. What’s the big deal?”
“Let me talk to Dad and—”
“He’s worse than you are about this stuff. I finally found a good friend after Zoe turned everyone against me. I can’t tell Avery you don’t trust her family. Seriously, Mom.”
“Just stop,” Annabelle snapped, raising her voice.
Scarlett looked at her in shock. “What’s with you? You’re like psycho lately.”
“That’s quite enough, young lady. Now the answer is definitely no.” The words seem to leave her lips unbidden.
“That’s not fair!”
Annabelle closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. “Nobody said life is fair.”
Scarlett started to speak but then shook her head, grabbed her backpack, and opened the door to the garage. Olivia came skipping into the kitchen, oblivious to the tension in the air.
Scarlett didn’t speak the entire ride, looking out the car window, ignoring Olivia’s chatter until finally Olivia exploded.
“Why are you being so mean? I’m talking to you!”
Scarlett still didn’t turn to look at her.
“Your sister’s mad at me, not you,” Annabelle said.
“Why?” Olivia asked.
“It’s between Scarlett and me. Let her be, okay, sweetie?”
Scarlett turned to Olivia. “She won’t let me go skiing with Avery because she’s afraid her family might be a bunch of serial killers.”
“That’s not what I said at all. We’ll discuss it tonight.”
“Whatever,” Scarlett said, opening the door and jumping out before the car had come to a complete stop.
Annabelle held herself back from calling after her. She smiled at Olivia. “Have a good day, honey. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
What a morning. She’d managed to fight with both James and Scarlett and had allowed her temper to flare to the point where she couldn’t control her tongue.
Regardless of whether or not these dreams were leading her somewhere, she needed some help dealing with them.
It was time to schedule a session with Monica.