Oh, God. Was I the one that was meant to die?
Chapter Nine
I spent the rest of the weekend in bed. I couldn’t force myself to get out. Whitney kept coming in to check on me, but I insisted that I was fine, just tired. And I was. So tired. I couldn’t keep anything straight anymore.
My mind was running a million miles an hour. The car. The note. The dreams. The phone calls. The migraines. Everything pointed to either my insanity or that the note was real. But that pushed at the boundaries that my brain could handle.
I couldn’t deal with this. Which was why I was staying in bed. I refused to move and make myself think more of what was going on.
Lane kept calling after he had dropped me off with Whitney on Friday night. I texted him once on Saturday to let him know I was feeling sick and couldn’t meet up with him. It was just enough to get him to back off so I could wallow in self-pity.
What in the hell was wrong with me? I could feel the burn of tears as they blurred my vision again. I couldn’t stop myself from crying, even though my eyes felt swollen and itchy. As soon as I thought I had calmed down, I would think about everything and then I would start crying all over again.
I had to figure this out. I had to get control of the situation so I could get back to normal. Maybe I should just commit myself and be done with it. I wasn’t worth the trouble I was causing everyone. Whitney was giving me weird looks every time she came in to check on me and I knew Lane probably wasn’t buying my excuses either.
I huffed and rolled over onto my back. I rubbed my eyes and took a few deep breaths to get control of myself. I had to get up so I could get ready for work, but I was starting to wonder what the point was. If I was in a dream, then why bother working? I didn’t actually need the money. I didn’t need to eat, I didn’t need to work. I didn’t need anything. I needed to wake up.
My eyes widened at that thought. It was the first time I had acknowledged that maybe I was really in a dream state and not going crazy. I sat up, pushing my hair back behind my ears. I felt a weight lift from my chest, like a relief was given to me that I hadn’t realized I was needing. Now that I had made a decision on if what I was going through was real or fake, I felt like I could move forward. Figure this thing out. Even if it was just me alone doing it.
I couldn’t imagine doing this alone though. Would Whitney and Lane really stay by my side if I told them I was sure this was all fake now? I could just see their anger now if I told them that I had made them up in my head.
I groaned and stood up, getting dressed for work. This was stressing me out. I wasn’t ready to tell them. I would keep it to myself for now, at least until I had things worked out some more.
With that, I went out to the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast before I left. Whitney was already out there, sipping a cup of coffee while scrolling through her phone. She looked up when I walked in.
“Good morning,” she said cautiously, watching me closely.
I smiled at her and got some juice out of the fridge. “Good morning,” I said, closing the door and turning to her.
“Feeling better?”
I nodded, taking a drink. “Yeah, I am. All rested up and ready to get back into my work routine.”
“Well, good,” she said, standing up. “I’m going to get ready too.”
I finished my juice and grabbed a banana and granola bar to take with me to eat on the car ride. Eating them on the way to work, I was feeling more relaxed than I had in a few weeks. There was no more reason to stress out.
I stopped halfway out of getting out of my car. Wait, there was a reason to be stressed. I had to figure out how to wake up. Oh geez. I sighed and gently banged my forehead on my steering wheel, praying for it to give me some ideas.
Making my way upstairs, I passed Julie sitting at her desk. She brightened when she saw me and got up, cornering me in the break room where I was headed.
“Abigail! What happened to you this weekend! I needed someone to gab with!”
I turned away from her and grimaced as I fixed myself a cup of coffee. Facing her again, I put a smile on my face. “What’s up? What happened?”
Julie grinned, bouncing up and down on her toes. “I wanted to find out what was up with Lane’s brother, Kent! Is he single, is he dating, does he like older women, what’s the deal?” she spewed out without taking a breath.
I laughed despite my annoyance. This woman just didn’t know when to stop. It was one of her character flaws, but at the same time made her a bit endearing. “As far as I know he’s single. I have no idea what his type of woman is though.”
She bit her lip, frowning. “I’m too old for him though. I know that. I guess it’s stupid of me to even want to find out.”
I reached out a hand to comfort her, sympathy causing me to be more patient than usual with her. “Hey, it’s no problem here. It’s easy enough to ask Lane for a few clues for you. And if he’s seeing someone or not interested, then at least you know, right?”
Julie nodded. “Okay, you’re right. Thanks a lot, Abigail!” She leaned in and hugged me, taking me off guard. I awkwardly patted her back, unused to this amount of interaction with her.
“Okay, I need to get to work,” I said, taking a step back from her.
“Oh, of course! I need to as well. I’ve got a lot on my plate today.”
I gave a sort of half-wave and headed back to my desk with my coffee. Sitting down, I turned on my computer and gave my desk a once-over, making sure everything was in order. Sipping my coffee, I pulled out the manuscripts I was working on and set them down, arranging them how I liked them.
The next few hours I found myself having to force my mind to the task at hand. I couldn’t concentrate no matter how I tried. My thoughts kept going back to the red car that came to The Den’s street corner every Friday. What was the point of that?
I tried to put myself out of my own mind and think outside the box. What was the significance of that car and that corner? I sank my head into my hands, trying to block out the noises of the office and my co-workers.
I jumped as something slammed onto my desk, barely keeping myself from yelling. I looked up and saw my manager, Lauren Cross, standing in front of me. She had slammed a thick book onto my desk.
“Sleeping on the job, Abigail?” she asked, crossing her arms as she stared down at me.
I sat up straight. “No, Lauren. Just sitting here thinking.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Sure, okay. Just make sure you’re thinking of work. And not anything else. You’re here to work, not daydream.” She grabbed her book, glared at me and walked off back to her office.
I looked over and saw Julie watching us. Her eyes were open wide and I could tell she wanted to come over and ask what was going on. I shook my head at her so she would stay at her desk. I didn’t need to be getting in more trouble. Glancing over at Lauren’s closed door, I couldn’t help but wonder what the heck was wrong with her that she needed to come out and yell at me.
I sighed and turned back to my work, turning the pages until I found where I had left off. I was able to get work done for an hour or so, but then once again, the red car came back into my thoughts.
Crazy car. Friday nights. Same corner. I groaned quietly, not able to figure out the connections between the clues. What were they?
After lunch, I returned to my desk, determined to keep my focus on my work. It was almost time to go home for the day and I was happy I only had a couple more hours to power through before I could leave.
Suddenly, I remembered the drunken dream I’d had last Wednesday after drinking with my new medicine. I was standing in the street and Lane was trying to get to me before the car hit me. I thought back over the details as best as I could recall them. I hadn’t been scared in the dream, in fact it had seemed like I was ready for the car to hit me.
I furrowed my brows in confusion. It was just a dream, I thought. But was it also a clue? I giggled at the thought of getting a Sherlock costume on a
nd following a magnifying glass for more clues.
Okay, maybe I could work with this. I shot a look at Lauren’s door, relieved that it was still closed. I didn’t need to bring her wrath on me again. I got a piece of paper out of my notebook and wrote down the details of the dream. I wasn’t sure if the street I had been standing in was the same one as where The Den was or if it was just a generic dream street, but I knew the car was important.
Okay, I thought, looking at the paper. The car was going to hit me. I was going to let it. Lane tried to get me to safety. Well, that one is easy enough to figure out, of course he would want me to be safe.
The car was going to hit me, and I was going to let it. I looked at those lines again. The car at The Den was close to hitting me each time it came by. What was the point of that? Was I supposed to let it? I shuddered at the thought of being hit by a car and hurt. No, I didn’t want to do that.
So, what then? Connect the dots, Abigail. Come on, figure this out. Figure it out! I mentally shouted to myself. I tapped my pen on my forehead, hoping for some inspiration.
After a few minutes, I sat up, admitting defeat. I couldn’t get it. What was so important about me and that car? My head was hurting from all this thinking I was doing, which was just sad. I got up to go to the break room to look for some Tylenol.
After sitting back down at my desk, I swallowed the pills down with some water. Luckily this was just a regular headache and not a migraine coming on. I didn’t think I could handle another one of those just yet. Especially if I was thrust into another crazy dream while I was down.
I thought about my migraines and how they had only started five years ago. And the pain always originated on the left side of my head. Another clue? I laughed while I pictured myself twirling an impressive mustache at my potential find. Okay, okay, back to business.
So, if this was a dream state, what caused the coma? Could it have been the car? Maybe if a note had found its way into my dream, then other things could have as well. Like my migraines and the car. Don’t forget the hallucinations, I thought wryly.
But, what if? I wondered, swinging my chair side to side. I flipped my paper over and started a new list. The car could have caused the coma and my migraines. Or maybe I hit my head and that’s why I get my migraines. I wasn’t sure that it even mattered. If I was in a dream, then I shouldn’t even be feeling pain. Isn’t that the first thing people check when they think they’re dreaming? They pinch themselves.
I tried it and felt the sharp pain as I clamped down on my skin. Well, that part didn’t add up.
Hearing people walking toward the desks, I quickly shoved the paper into my purse and sat back up, pretending to be reading and making notes. I just couldn’t concentrate, and I wasn’t even feeling guilty about it. I felt disconnected from what I was doing. Nothing mattered anymore except figuring out what was going on.
I pretended to work the rest of the day, while I pondered on the list in my purse. I was itching to get it back out and work on it, but Lauren was stalking around the office area, making sure we were all doing our work.
I was the first one to shoot out of my chair at the end of the day, speed-walking to the door with my purse hanging from my hand. I needed to get home and make sure I was getting the right answers.
Walking into the apartment, I was glad to see Whitney wasn’t home yet. I did not need her here to witness my potential downfall into insanity, in case I was wrong about all of this.
Reading over my notes, I noticed again the pattern that had emerged. The car, the street corner, every Friday night I was there. I wondered if the car was there every Friday night or if it only showed up when I was there. “Too bad I can’t put up secret cameras to see,” I mused.
After a while I sat back, examining my work. I wasn’t sure if I had figured it out, but my best guess was that the car had caused the coma, and that was why I was seeing it here. That had to be why it was always so close to hitting me here. I had been hit by a car, probably thrown, hit my head and now here I was. Living a fake life with a fake job, fake friends, and a fake boyfriend. My heart wrenched at that thought, the pain almost too much to bear.
Even if I managed to wake up, I couldn’t imagine a life without Lane in it. I had come to rely on him so much and the support and love that he gave me. I didn’t want to give that up, but I couldn’t keep going on like this either. I needed to wake up more than I wanted to stay here. The guilt I felt at that thought flooded through me, my face burning with shame and tears filling my eyes.
I took a shaky breath and kept the tears at bay, not wanting to cry anymore. I had done enough of that the past month or so. Standing up, I pushed my shoulders back and went to the bathroom to clean up. I didn’t want Whitney to know I was upset when she came home.
Going back to the living room, I paced back and forth in front of the couch. “The car caused the coma. It hit me, I hit the ground, so here I am. So how do I wake up? How do I wake up? The note said it was a new technology and that’s how it got into this dream world. Okay, so why can’t that technology wake me up?” I growled as I threw my hands up in frustration. “Why am I the one doing all the hard work?”
I thought about my parents out in the real world, waiting on me to open my eyes. What were they doing? Were they just hanging out in my hospital room, watching me waste away? It had been five years, according to the note. I was sure I was looking like a hot mess at this point.
“If the car caused the coma, maybe it could un-cause it?” I wondered, feeling the blood leave my head, causing a dizzy feeling to spread. “What if the only way is to get hit by the car again? Ugh, but so many things could go wrong!” I started to pace again.
“What if it didn’t hit me at all, or what if it doesn’t hit me the right way? Maybe I’ll just break an arm and not wake up.” I rubbed at my temples as I walked around.
I straightened up and stood still. “No, this is the only thing that makes sense. The car has to be the key to this, so the car is going to be the way to fix this. Then I can wake up…and lose everything.” I faltered at that, then shook my head. “No, no, I have to do this.”
What’s the next step, then? If I was really going to do this, then I wanted to get everything straightened out here that I could. I wasn’t sure that made much sense, since I had decided that this was all a fake world I was in, but my brain could only handle so much at one time.
I gathered up my papers and put them back in my purse, hiding it in my room. I knew Whitney wouldn’t go through my things, but I didn’t want to chance it either. After that was done, I went into the kitchen and started making dinner, trying to keep a semblance of normalcy.
Whitney arrived right as I was taking the casserole out of the oven. I looked over at her and smiled. “Hey there. How was work?”
Whitney smiled and sat down on a stool. “Man, I’m worn out. Today was just busy, busy, busy and there was no slowing down. How about you?”
I turned away from her. “Oh, it was all right. My boss was on our asses a lot today. Not sure what her problem was.”
Whitney scrunched her nose. “Ugh, that sucks. Bosses should just stay in their office and do what they do from there.”
“I totally agree. She was making everyone nervous today.”
“What else have you been up to? Is Lane coming over tonight?” she asked.
I shook my head. “No, I don’t think so. I haven’t talked to him today.”
Whitney looked over, a weird look on her face. “Really? You didn’t see him all weekend. I figured you would be seeing him tonight.”
“Nope. I’m just hanging out here tonight.”
Whitney didn’t say anything to that, and I didn’t turn around to look at her. I didn’t want her to try to read the emotions on my face after my revelation earlier. I didn’t want to see her look of betrayal and pain after I told her I was sure she was a figment of my imagination.
So instead I stayed in denial and kept my back turned. Getting out the plates, I
fixed them up with the casserole I had made and set them on the table. Then after getting our drinks, I sat down with those too.
Whitney kept a close watch on me, eyes narrowed in suspicion. I just ignored her and kept my eyes down, shoveling my food in my mouth so I could finish faster and be gone.
“Why aren’t you seeing Lane? Did you guys get in a fight?”
I sighed and shook my head. “No, we didn’t. I was just busy today at work and never got a chance to talk to him. It happens, you know.”
Whitney tilted her head, pointing her fork at me. “Something’s going on with you. What is it? I’ve never heard you give an excuse for not talking to Lane. You two are practically joined at the hip.”
Shrugging, I took a bite of food. “Nothing’s going on with us. I’m fine.”
Whitney pursed her lips, obviously not believing me. I breathed a sigh of relief when she sat back, backing off from the questions. I stood up, grabbed my plate, and headed into the kitchen to rinse it off. Then I headed back to my room to deal with my papers I had stashed away.
**********
The next day at work, I sat at my desk, taking deep breaths. I felt out of my depth here and more nervous than when I had interviewed for the job. I was basically throwing it back in my boss’ face after she had gone through the trouble of hiring me over others that had more qualifications.
I looked over the letter in my hands again. I had spent a few hours last night writing my resignation, trying to perfect it before giving it to Lauren today. I couldn’t keep up the façade of this life when I was convinced it wasn’t real. I was ready to try to get out.
I stood up but lost my nerve when I looked at Lauren’s closed door. I need a drink, I thought, wishing I could do exactly that. Instead, I went to the break room and made a cup of coffee, telling myself that it was something stronger.
Fortified, I strode to Lauren’s door and knocked. When she answered, I opened the door and went in, shutting it behind me. I nervously sat down and waited for her to acknowledge me.
Invisible Future Page 13