Bittersweet Sleep

It’s the end of another day.  She drags her tired and weary body into her room and shuts the door behind her.  She is done.  She walks over to the foot of her bed, pushing aside clothes on the floor as she goes; some dirty, some clean.  She lets her bags drop to the floor with a thud.  She breaths in deep; there’s that smell again.  No matter how many times she cleans she can’t figure out where that smell is coming from.  Its faint, the smell of old wet towels, but it’s there.  She ignores it, knowing that in a few seconds she won’t smell it anymore.  She pulls off her work polo, undoes her bra, and takes off her black slacks letting them all fall where they may and grabs her pj shorts and a tank top off the bed.  She pulls them on and takes comfort in their worn softness.  She pulls aside the covers, crawls in between the familiar flannel sheets and pulls the comforter up to her ears.  Her body instantly relaxes into the softness of it all and comfort floods her being.  She is safe, the world cannot get her here except through her phone which she plugs in and ignores.  The quiet of the night takes over.  She can hear her breathing, the sound of rain falling gently but steadily outside her window, the old clock outside her door chiming away the hour and the occasional car that passes by on her road but nothing else.  She lingers in this quietness and is refreshed by the peace it brings to her tormented mind.  Her breathing slows, her face softens and she lets herself drift off to sleep.

She sleeps soundly for a while, the cares of her world far away as she dreams of a man she has no picture of.  A man whom has taken her heart and now controls her without even knowing.  But in her dreams this man is present and passionate.  He cares for her like no other and holds her close as he kisses her softly.  Her sleeping lips curl into a smile with only the photos of moments passed to witness.

                She wakes. Something in the dark has disturbed her peaceful slumber.  She cannot see it but she can feel it; a cold oppression slipping over her like the chill of a winter storm.  She tries to gather the blankets tighter around her but with no success. This chill fills her and she is frozen to her very core.  She wants to reach for the light on her bedside table but finds that her arms will not obey her commands.  She closes her eyes and tries to block out the sense of dread that is creeping its way up her spine but finds no comfort for her mind’s eye opens and reveals a child standing by her bed.  She knows this child, it is her first, her only, the one she lost before it was truly alive.  It is Emily. Her heart stops as her mouth opens in a small gasp.  She gazes upon her beloved little girl so perfect before her.  Her hair is short and blond, her skin as white as porcelain and her frame so delicately clothed in a dark red dress.  She wants to cry out to her, to tell her why she was never brought to life, to explain how sorry she is but the words won’t form in her mouth.  Tears begin to fall down her trembling cheeks as Emily looks at her with questioning eyes.  Emily raises a small delicate hand inviting her scarred mother to join her. She finds strength and reaches for her daughter but as she turns and opens her eyes Emily disappears into the night. 

The sense of dread is gone, nothing but an empty room stares back at her. She turns on the light and stares at the books piled up around the room, the clothes thrown here and there depending on their state of cleanliness, the photos of happy days under sunny skies, the half open closet door and the numerous notebooks filled with rantings scattered on and around her nightstand. She swallows hard, dries her watery eyes and turns off the light once more.  She pulls the sheets up around her ears again and settles into the comfort of her bed. 

                She imagines a man crawling into bed with her and smiles as he wraps his strong arm around her.  His beard tickles her cheek as he kisses her gently on the side of her head.  She wraps herself up in this memory and falls asleep smelling his cologne.  She once again lays peacefully, her body completely at rest.  The night stays still, allowing her to carry her memories into her dreams so that she may be happy for a time.