Seventeen

The agonizing ring of the phone, followed by the mummering of low voices, interrupted breakfast. At the mention of my name I risked opening my eyes just a slit. It was a mistake. The bright light set my stomach rolling. I had to make a run for the bathroom. So much for breakfast. So much for the productive day I had planned. Annoyed and feeling sorry for myself I headed back to bed.

Sometime in the afternoon, I felt rather then heard, the door open. Not daring to risk taking a peek I fained sleep and after a minute the door clicked shut and I drifted back into a uneasy sleep. A cool breeze finally woke me. The pain was gone, but it was dark and the house was quiet. Too quiet.

Turning on the bedside lamp I looked at the clock. It was dark, but early yet. Why was the house so quiet?

Pulling the blanket off the foot of the bed I wrapped it around my shoulders and made my way to the living room. The silence weighted on my ears. Each step echoed louder then the next and the walls began to press in on me. Suffocating in the silence and unable to take it any longer I ran and yanked open the outside door.

I rushed from the house and found myself falling . . . ever falling. The stars rushed past me as I decended deeper and deeper into darkness. Too startled to scream I reached for anything to stop my fall. Nothing, no light, no sound just the pounding of my heart. And that pounding got louder and louder until all I wanted to do was hold my ears and make it stop.

Somewhere on the way down I caught in something velvety and soft. It wrapped around me and I went from the panic of falling to feeling trapped and suffocated. It was a feeling I fought only briefly before subcoming to the urge to free myself. With a start I felt myself falling again and then a jolt as I landed hitting my head. The everything faded into unconsciousness.

When I finally opened my eyes the sun was shining through the window at a odd angle and I didn't know where I was. My head throbbed. Reaching to rub at the sore spot I felt a large lump covered in dried blood. Ouch.

Moving carefully, I sat up and found myself on the floor next to the bed. Unwrapping my legs from the tangle of bedding I tried to remember what it was I had dreamed, but could only vaguely recall falling and darkness.

A shower washed the dried blood from my head and face, but did little to calm the panic I felt as I tried to remember what it was I had dreamed. As the water ran cold, I drug myself out of the shower and dressed for the day. Why I felt such a panic was a mystery and I hate mysteries.