Until I Wake

by Kylie Rae

  Time slipped by and Whitney drank her coffee one slow sip after another. Her mind filled with buzzing. It was cold by the time she drank the last drop, and she still hadn’t made the call.

  Her phone vibrated against the table and she jumped. A text from Robin filled the screen.

  Robin- Do it now! Quit procrastinating!

  She took a deep breath. “Okay,” she said out loud. “Okay.” She scrolled through her contacts and clicked on her mom’s name. “Okay.”

  Barely one ring sounded before her mom answered.

  “Whitney! What happened?” Rose’s voice came through the speaker and Whitney pulled the phone away from her ear with a jerk.

  “Hi mom,” was all she could say.

  “Don’t you ‘hi mom’ me! Robin told me something happened and now I’ve been stressing all day waiting for you to call me and tell me what it was. Now tell me!”

  “Okay... okay...” Whitney shut her eyes to hold in the tears and struggled to find the words, but there wasn’t a single good way to spin it. “I was–uh–I was robbed at gunpoint the other night.”

  The line was silent for so long, Whitney wondered if they’d gotten disconnected. But then Rose’s voice scratched out, “What?” It was flat and cold and froze Whitney to the core.

  “But I’m okay,” she rushed to say.

  “We’re coming to see you.” There was a rustling of fabric and a jangling of metal that must have been car keys.

  “Mom, no!” Her arms erupted with goosebumps. She didn’t need them; she needed to be a grownup.

  “Start packing. Dan! Call the truck company! We’ll be on our way-”

  “Mom! Stop! I’m not coming home. I’m fine!” Her voice sounded shrieky and hysterical and not at all like the calm, collected adult she wanted to be, but it got her mom to stop ignoring her at last.

  Rose paused. Whitney’s dad asked questions in the background.

  “I’m putting you on speaker. Tell us exactly what happened.”

  “Mom-”

  “Now!”

  “Okay...” She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath to collect herself. There wasn’t any way around it. Whitney recounted the events, and it all flashed before her again. She tried to downplay the details without outright lying. She didn’t want them to drag her home. But the story didn’t end up sounding any better. There wasn’t a pleasant way of describing a gun in your face. By the end, Rose’s sobs rattled out through the speaker and Dan wanted to get more law enforcement involved. Whitney shook in her seat and tried to hold herself together, but her seams were stretched and strained.

  “My poor baby...”

  “I’m fine.” She hoped her voice sounded firm. She wasn’t a baby. “And I’m staying here.”

  “But-”

  “No, she’s right,” Dan said. He let out a sigh and Whitney pictured him with one arm around her mother. “We can’t baby her forever, dear. If she says she’s fine, we have to believe her.”

  “Thanks, dad.” A small piece of her relaxed with his support. But only a bit.

  “But you need to let us know when things happen.”

  “Yes, dad.”

  “Promise!” Rose’s voice bordered on hysterical now, and to hear her mother that way threatened Whitney’s resolve.

  “Okay, I promise.” She forced the words out and stared at the ceiling to contain her tears. She refused to let them witness her break.

  “Good,” Dan said, and Rose sobbed again, but it wasn’t as distraught now.

  “It’s getting late,” Whitney said before they asked anymore questions. Her hand clenched, and she worried about the phone breaking in her grip. “And I have work in the morning.”

  “Of course. We’ll let you go.”

  “Goodnight, sweetheart. Love you.”

  “Love ya’ll too.”

  Whitney hung up, and the phone clattered onto the table. Her heart pounded, the gun in her face flashed through her memory. The kitchen swam before her eyes and she gulped for air.

  “Breath. I’ve got to breathe,” she said. She pulled her hair into handfuls and tried to remember Courtney’s advice. Count to ten. Right. She could do that. No problem.

  “One...” She tried to start, but her eyes wouldn’t focus on anything. “One...” The clock... the microwave... “One...” The window... jump out the window.... “One...” It will all stop if you jump out the window. “One...”

  WHITNEY OPENED HER eyes when the pounding began. She was sprawled out on her living room floor and the rug scratched against her cheek. The pounding continued. She pushed herself up on her hands and knees and tried to piece together what had happened. Relief flooded through her when she remembered her last thought before she’d blacked out. She hadn’t followed through with it. She got to her feet and leaned against the wall until the spinning stopped.

  “Whitney!” Robin banged on the door. “Open up!”

  Whitney turned the lock and Robin almost fell on top of her in her urgency. Whitney’s momentary peace reverted to panic when she took in Robin’s disheveled hair and wild eyes.

  “What? What happened? What time is it?”

  “It’s 3:20. Yes, AM. Are you okay?” Robin hugged her so tight she thought her ribs might crack.

  “What do you mean? I’m fine. What happened?”

  Robin stepped back and her lips drew together in a thin line.

  “There was a break in. Next floor up.”

  Whitney’s knees buckled, and she landed on the couch. Robin closed the door, relocked it, and then sat down with her.

  “No one was hurt.” She gripped one of Whitney’s hands. “Just a bunch of broken stuff. Like the TV was smashed...”

  “Does... Does this happen a lot? Is it not safe here?” Fear bubble up inside her.

  “No, we’re fine. This has never happened before. Not since I’ve lived here, anyway.” Robin scooted closer and hugged her again. “Don’t worry. You’re safe.” She applied as much emphasis as she could muster into the last two words.

  Whitney’s eyes were wide and bloodshot, but she fixed them on the coffee table and counted under her breath. This time it worked, and her nerves relaxed. She might not feel safe, but at least she wasn’t alone.

  “I’ll stay the rest of the night, okay?” Robin said.

  “Yeah, okay.”

  Robin pulled her to her feet and led her to the bedroom. She helped her into bed and tucked the blanket under her chin. Whitney watched her scramble around the end of the bed to climb in on the other side. Robin left the lamp on to illuminate the doorway, and that’s where Whitney’s eyes fixed until she couldn’t hold them open any longer. Under the blanket, Robin reached for Whitney’s hand and gripped it tight. “Let’s try to get some sleep.”

  VERNON SHUFFLED AROUND the path in the park with his little dog near dawn. The police had finally left the apartment building, and he’d waited in the hallway to hear if they already found a lead on the vandal. The last thing he needed was someone breaking and entering in his building. The nerve of these young people. He’d install security cameras when he got his next check, he was sure of that.

  He rounded a corner and spotted a man sleeping on a park bench. Vernon’s lip curled up in disgust. This town was really turning into a dump. Common criminals in his building and now a drunk in his park. He cut across the grass to avoid the man and had to tug on the leash to get his dog to follow. She was interested in seeing what the disgusting man smelled like, but Vernon didn’t want to let her get anywhere near him.

  As he watched, George sat up and stretched on the bench. He spotted Vernon and waved a dirt encrusted hand. “‘Mornin’!” He called and then burped and hiccuped. A sleepy green sat on his face and his eyes drooped closed again.

  Vernon quickened his pace and didn’t respond. What was this town coming to?

  Chapter Twelve

  The lights were too bright and the music too loud, and there were too many people in the casino this early in the morning. Whitney
wanted to cover her eyes and hide in a closet, but she couldn’t do that, of course. She had to be a responsible adult and do her job. But she didn’t have to be happy about it.

  “Morning Whitney,” Josh said. He gulped his energy drink and texted one-handed as he walked by.

  Whitney glanced up and registered his words, but didn’t respond. Her eyes were heavy with sleep and her vision blurred if she looked at any one thing for too long. The large cup of coffee in her hands was the third one she’d bought that morning, and it hadn’t helped at all.

  “Whitney, sweetie, you can’t sit at the machines, remember? And no drinks on the floor when you’re working.” Chris said from behind her. His voice was sickly sweet, but his eyes twinkled with delight at finding her doing something wrong. He pulled her up by the arm and took her coffee cup.

  “Man, you want Steve’s job too much,” Whitney snapped. She jerked her arm away. “Don’t call me sweetie. And don’t touch me!”

  Chris scoffed and smoothed out the front of his perfectly pressed shirt. His lips moved, chewing on his comeback, but he said nothing. He didn’t even deny it. He narrowed his eyes as Whitney stared him down, but he looked away first. After he stalked away, Whitney slouched back into the empty chair, sad to see her coffee go.

  This was the unlucky machine anyway, she reasoned. She’d seen no one sit here, even if all the other machines were taken. They’d just go to the next room. Always.

  Whitney’s eyes drooped. She was so tired. She hadn’t gotten any sleep after Robin told her about the break in. She’d watched Robin snore, but her eyes hadn’t stayed shut for more than a second. Now, however, she couldn’t keep them open.

  Julie stepped into the room as Whitney sighed into sleep. She shuffled her feet when she noticed her. She didn’t want to tell her off, but she knew something had to be done before someone else saw her and she got in real trouble. She turned to the drink machine and wiped the counter to buy herself some time and hoped that Whitney would just snap out of it on her own.

  Whitney’s hand fell from her lap and the soft skin of her forearm hooked onto the jagged piece of metal sticking out from the corner of the machine. The momentum from the swing dug the metal in and dragged it halfway down her arm. Whitney woke with a scream and leapt to her feet. Julie spun around and ran to her as patrons gaped at the blood pouring out of the wound.

  “That’s why I never sit there,” an elderly woman a few machines away said. A few others nodded in agreement.

  Julie ignored them and grabbed a bar towel to cover Whitney’s arm. Her eyes were wide with shock and her mouth kept moving, but no sound came out.

  “Hospital. Come on.” Julie dragged Whitney across the room and spoke into her walkie. “Someone call 9-1-1. Need an ambulance. Injured employee on the first floor.”

  Julie eased Whitney into a chair at the security desk to wait for the ambulance. Steve entered the room and motioned for her to come talk to him.

  “Keep pressure on that,” Julie said. Whitney nodded, her face pale. She’d started to shake.

  “What happened?” Steve asked when Julie was in front of him.

  “She fell asleep at a machine and her arm fell. There was a sharp piece of metal sticking out from the corner and it cut her arm open.”

  “Hmm...” Steve pursed his lips and looked across the lobby at Whitney.

  “Apparently our patrons knew about the broken piece and never sat there...”

  “So, you’re saying she should have realized something was wrong with it and turned in a maintenance request?”

  Julie blinked as she realized what he was implying. “Yeah, I guess so...” Whitney would be in big trouble now. Why hadn’t she just went over to her the moment she’d realized she was asleep? It could have all been prevented if she hadn’t wussed out of telling off her friend. That’s why she didn’t like being in management.

  “On top of falling asleep at work...” Steve sighed. “I think she needs a little time off. She’s too distracted. I know she’s still getting over last week, but... she doesn’t need to be doing it here.”

  “Okay.” That didn’t seem too harsh, at least. Time off was a lot like being suspended, but Julie was sure it would do Whitney good in the end.

  “Will you tell her? Take a week or two off and then we’ll revisit the situation.”

  “Do I have to be the one?” Julie pouted. She hated being the bearer of bad news. And she still couldn’t shake the feeling that this was partially her fault.

  Steve took a quick glance around, then ran a finger down Julie’s neck and across her exposed cleavage. Goosebumps erupted across her skin, and he smiled at her body’s reaction.

  “I’ll make it up to you.” Steve winked.

  “Oh, fine.” Julie blushed and walked away, but she added an extra sway to her step for his enjoyment.

  WHITNEY STARED AT THE sterile white wall of the hospital room and waited for a doctor to come in. The EMTs had patched her arm in the ambulance, but they’d told her she’d need a few stitches to make sure it healed up properly. They’d warned her she’d have a nasty scar, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

  “Well, well, well. Who do we have here?” Courtney swung the curtain aside and stepped into the room. She looked completely different in her nurse’s uniform, but a good different. Even under the harsh light from the fluorescents, she had a motherly glow and emanated a sense of calm. Whitney was somehow able to smile at her.

  “Hi.” The shock of her injury had worn off and now she mostly felt ashamed of herself for being so clumsy and irresponsible. Plus, the pain medicine they’d already given her had taken the harsh edge off of life.

  “Julie called and told me what happened. I made sure I covered your room.” She picked up the chart and looked over the information. “How are you feeling?”

  Whitney shrugged. That was too complicated a question to give a quick answer.

  “Are you not sleeping well?” Courtney examined Whitney’s face and noted the bags under eyes.

  “Not really,” she admitted.

  “Hmm. You should probably think about seeing someone, hun. A counselor, someone you can talk to. It can be beneficial.”

  Whitney nodded, but said nothing and avoided meeting Courtney’s gaze. She knew they could help. They’d helped before. But she didn’t need them anymore. She’d gotten past all that.

  Courtney knew the non-committal response was the best she would going to get. You couldn’t help people until they were ready to accept it. Especially if they weren’t even to the stage of admitting that they needed it.

  “Well, let’s get you stitched up and on your way.”

  AFTER THE TWELVE STITCHES closed up her wound, Whitney took the bus back home. She didn’t know what to do with herself. She now had two weeks off from work to sit and think about everything too much. She was going to drive herself crazy. Maybe Courtney was right about finding someone to talk to.

  Her phone rang and shocked her back to reality. Her brother, Daniel, was calling. She debated on ignoring it, but didn’t want to cause more worry. He’d tell her mom, and she’d have to go ‘round with them again about keeping them in the loop. And she didn’t feel up to it.

  “Hello?” If this was a ‘just checking in call,’ she would scream and hang up.

  “Hey little sister. How’s it going?”

  “Fine.” She would not tell him about her accident. It meant nothing except she needed to get more sleep.

  “Good. I need your help. I want to propose to Jenna. I figured you’d be able to help me plan something out. Shy and Rissa would totally spill the beans.” Whitney relaxed a little. “Really?” It was nice for someone to call for an actual reason. “Of course, I’ll help. What do you have so far?”

  BEN HATED MORNINGS. They were the worst part of the day, in his opinion. And that included more than the hours of early am, but any time that he’d just woken up. It didn’t matter if it was eleven or even noon; he hated it. But today he was up before nin
e for a job and grumbled through every minute of it. And since the guy had needed him so early, he figured he’d pay him back by being late and stopping for coffee on the way.

  He walked into the coffee shop and spotted the hot one. Kevin had said her name was Robin. He eyed her legs in her tight dress pants and his gaze lingered on her hips before traveling up to her face. She was busy talking on the phone and didn’t see him. Maybe this morning wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  He ordered his coffee and sat at a table near her to wait for the opportunity to start a conversation. He was going over his best pickup lines in his mind when he caught on to what she was talking about.

  “I dunno, mom. She’s got me worried. I haven’t seen her this tightly wound in years.”

  It must be about her friend, Whitney. Kevin had been on about her a lot too. Apparently getting mugged really messed a person up. Understandable. But Ben didn’t like to think about it for too long. Because then he’d have to think about what else he knew and guilt got involved and he didn’t want to deal with that.

  “Maybe this was too drastic for her. You know how she is about change.” Pause. “I know it hasn’t been that long yet, but what if she doesn’t adjust because of all this awful stuff? What if she’s traumatized, and it’s all my fault?”

  Ben could hear in her voice she was tearing up and bailed. This wouldn’t be his moment. He didn’t know how to comfort crying women, and now wasn’t the time for him to figure it out. He wanted a chance with this girl, not to have a scalding coffee thrown at his head. He slipped out the door and went back to hating the morning.

  HER FIRST DAY OFF FROM work started a little rocky. She didn’t know what to do with her free time, never having much of it since she’d been a teenager. She enjoyed being busy; it kept her mind from wandering into dangerous territory. But now she had two weeks to do... What?