8. Bailey
8
Bailey
Wednesday
C hase stood on the bridge, looking down into the racing river below. The pitts were dry, as the summer had been unusually dry, but the river was as angry as ever. I stood, staring at him, before the fleeting thought came to me. Why not? Why not just talk to him? How simple everything would be if I just talked to him.
“Chase,” I said, taking a step onto the bridge. Someone’s dog was barking in the nearby park as the wind picked up speed, whipping my hair around. The river rushed below the bridge with force. Chase didn’t move, he must’ve not heard me. “Hey, Chase!” I took a step forward, shivering as the wind blew through me. The sound of banging doors caused me to jump, my feet creaking under the bridge boards.
I stepped closer to Chase, seeking solitude, though from what, I wasn’t sure. Nearby, the dog’s bark grew louder, closer. I ran up the arch of the bridge, reaching out to Chase, thinking if I could only get to him, maybe then, we would be fine. Maybe then, we could find calm within ourselves as we used to.
Chase looked up at me just as I was about to touch him, only his normally grey eyes were brown. His skin darkened to a tan, and a five o'clock shadow appeared as his face morphed into something else, someone else. I stumbled back, the bridge boards creaking beneath me until I fell backward onto them with a bang.
“What have you done?” Ed screamed at me, anger and hatred coloring his face as he stepped toward me. I wanted to scream, I wanted to run, but I was frozen. He grabbed hold of my shirt, his face cracking open, blood and brain matter seeping out as he screamed in my face. “What have you done to me?”
I startled awake, hair plastered to my damp, cold face as I tried to catch my breath. Outside, I could hear the door to the garden shed creaking open, then slamming shut. Creaking open, slamming shut. Creaking open…slamming shut.
“A little dream, princess?” Ed asked from the other side of my room. I looked up from my bed, getting a glimpse of him by the mirror. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. I always take care of you.”
It was only a dream , I told myself as I curled onto my side, pulling my blanket up against my chest and holding it tight. “You’re not real.” I whispered, half asleep. “It was only a dream. He let me have this year. I could have this year, he said it was okay. You’re not real.”
I ignored the sound of a dog barking in the distance.