Dream Whispers

by K.L. Bauman

  Chapter Thirty One

  Broken Pieces

  She knew she was dreaming, but everything seemed so real. Becca could see her hands, body, and legs; anything beyond the two inches of light that surrounded her was swallowed in darkness. She felt as if she were under the harsh gaze of a glaring spotlight. Her hands trembled as she held them in front of her, resting her elbows against her torso for stability. Oddly, she didn’t find it strange that her cast was missing from her left arm. Shards of jagged glass from a broken bowl or something dug into her palms as she grasped them tightly, terrified that if she let go, the pieces might completely shatter against the ground and she’d lose it all forever. Blood dripped from her hands as she squeezed tighter and the glass cut her skin.

  The light slowly spread outward, increasing the visibility around Becca. She gasped as the edge of the circle of light rolled over two forms, illuminating them into clarity. Her parents stood before her, calm and smiling.

  “Becca,” her mother’s voice washed over her like a wave of warm, comforting air. “Please, it’s time to let go.” A crease formed between her mom’s brows as she looked at Becca’s hands.

  Speechless, Becca struggled between holding onto the glass and dropping it so she could run to her parents and feel their embrace. “Where have you been?” she whispered. Then her voice broke out in an angry shout. “All this time, I’ve felt so alone! Why did you leave? Why haven’t you been here to help me?”

  Her dad’s glossy eyes gazed tenderly at her. “Becca, we’ve been here all the time. We never truly left. We’ll always be as close as we are right now. You just have to believe it. Release your pain,” he said, gesturing toward her hands with a slight nod of his head.

  Becca swallowed the lump in her throat, wanting to say more, but unable to find the words. Her parents approached, each placing a hand tenderly on one of her shoulders. She could feel the warmth of their touch through her shirt. She closed her eyes, letting the sensation soak in for a long while. A tear trailed along her cheek as she opened her eyes again.

  Her dad spoke quietly, “Something broken cannot be mended if you keep holding on to it, Becca.”

  “He’s right,” her mother said.

  Becca sobbed softly and replied, “I’m so scared! I don’t want to lose everything like I lost you. I don’t know if I have the strength to let go.”

  “It’ll be okay, Becca,” her mother whispered. Becca looked deeply into her mother’s sincere gaze. Crinkles formed around her mom’s eyes as the woman smiled. “Everything will work out for the best, you’ll see.”

  They stepped away from her then, leaving her standing alone with her broken vessel. “Only you can do this, Becca,” her dad said firmly.

  Shaking to the point of nearly having a seizure, Becca gulped and gave her parents another long look. They each nodded for her to proceed. Becca shifted her eyes to her hands. The broken glass caused sharp pain where it pierced her skin. She took a deep breath, and then pulled her hands apart, giving the glass freedom.

  To her astonishment, the vessel dropped slightly and then halted, suspended in mid air. The cuts on Becca’s hands disappeared, taking the pain with them. From somewhere in the darkness, flashes of light and sound appeared and circled the broken vessel like moths around a flame. Memory echoes! As if gentle, invisible hands were at work, each piece of the vessel caught a spark of light and sound before they eased together, slowly repairing the vessel.

  Suddenly, Becca felt her parents’ love. How could she have doubted their presence? More lights swirled around the vessel, melding more of the shards together. As each seam melted away, leaving no indication of separation, clarity came into Becca’s mind. She saw Chris, happy at giving up a life he would’ve never been satisfied with to come and care for her; and, in doing so, discovering his true dream. More lights, more pieces--she was beginning to remember…

  As the vessel began to take shape, a familiar face materialized. At first, the face brought pain and fear. Becca stepped away, uncertain whether or not she really wanted this to continue. Her parents encouraged her again, giving her the strength she needed to move forward.

  Becca’s face was wet with every kind of tear--happy, sad, hurt, angry, and happy again. His face, Kayde’s beautiful face, filled in so many pieces, so many memories. His voice, his tender touch, his deep gaze, connected the pieces of the previously elusive jig saw puzzle. Nervous, Becca watched, knowing what she was about to see. The one memory she feared the most.

  But it was different than she thought it would be. She saw Kayde’s dark features, heard his evil song. However, the look on his face when he realized it was Becca coming around the corner... He raced toward the wall, his jaw now set with fear and determination.

  Becca screamed as they both hit the wall and crashed. The hairs on her neck stood on end at the sound of Kayde’s desperate voice shouting her name. He hadn’t been trying to kill her. He’d tried to save her!

  The last broken piece came to the top of a delicate vase and settled into place. The music of Becca’s soul rang out as the glass melded together, making the vessel whole. Whatever had truly happened that night no longer mattered; she loved Kayde. She couldn’t deny it, and didn’t want to ever forget it again. Tears rolled down her face as she vowed to always remember the sacrifice he’d made; he’d given his life for hers.

  Stepping forward, Becca’s mother gently took the vase from the air and handed it to Becca. Still shaking, Becca hugged the vessel to her, feeling its warmth, wanting to hold it for eternity. Her mother’s gentle fingers wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Thank you,” Becca whispered to her parents.

  “It was all you, Becca,” her mother replied.

  Her dad approached. He took one of her hands away from the vase and placed something in her upturned palm. He closed her fingers around the object before she could see what it was. “Listen carefully, now. You’ll need this soon. In order to save the one you love, you must open your heart.”

  Before Becca could ask what he meant, her parents’ forms vanished.

  Becca jolted awake to the sound of a slamming door. She blinked her eyes against a cold, white bulb that hung bare from the wooden ceiling. Damp, cement walls surrounded the room, broken only by a small window on the wall across from where Becca sat. Thorny arms of rose bushes caged the window, leaving little hope for escape. The floor was carpeted at least, giving her some cushion; but the pungent scent of damp earth and mold emanated from the gold shag carpet, stinging her nostrils.

  A groan brought Becca’s attention to a form lying beside her. “Chris!” Her brother moved slightly as Becca struggled to get to him. Her forearms were bound, her cast cold and uncomfortable against her good arm. Becca’s ankles were also tied together, but she managed to shuffle on her knees toward Chris. She flopped onto his side when she reached him. “Chris, are you okay?” A rough looking bit of rope held his hands tightly behind his back. Crusted blood made a gruesome design on his forehead where Terrance had bashed Chris’ head against the steering wheel.

  As Becca tried to roll her brother onto his back with her arms, he moaned and said, “Mom?” His eyes remained closed.

  Becca knew her brother was dreaming and she answered, “No, Chris, it’s Becca. You need to wake up.” Her own dream popped into her mind then, how she’d seen her parents. Her dad had placed something in her hand…

  Chris rolled onto his back and Becca’s heart pounded as she held her bound hands in front of her. Slowly, she opened her good fist. A wooden locket rested in her palm, the leather strap neatly tucked around it as if someone had taken great care in placing it that way. How was this possible? She’d been wearing that locket before Terrance had stopped them. Could it be …? Becca sat back on the carpet, her mind reeling from what she was about to allow herself to believe. She’d had a dream whisper--a powerful one. It had reached across the boundary that separates the
realms of dreams and reality. Her parents had actually been here, her dad had actually placed the locket in her hand!

  In spite of her current situation, Becca found herself chuckling as joy tickled her heart. Maybe she was crazy, maybe there was some other explanation for how the necklace had gotten into her hand. But she preferred to believe her theory. It gave her strength. “Thanks again, Mom and Dad,” she whispered before she struggled with pulling the leather strap around her neck again, allowing the locket to rest against her skin. It was cool, yet comforting.

  Voices outside the door caused Becca to return her focus to the moment at hand. She nudged Chris with her arms again, trying to get him to wake up. Chris coughed, and then his eyes slowly opened. Becca smiled at him, giving him a moment to focus. “Becca? What--?” Chris struggled against the ropes on his wrists and ankles. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m not sure. I think we’re in Toby’s basement. Toby and Ryan came by the house earlier. They were trying to warn me that something was going on. And now that I remember things--”

  Chris forced himself into a sitting position. “What? Did you just say you remember things?”

  Becca gave a weak smile. “Yes, but I’m afraid I might’ve remembered too little too late. I don’t know if I have time to explain everything, but Toby’s mother is evil and she’s up to something bad. I think--” Becca gasped in the middle of her sentence as the door burst open and Terrance strode into the room.

  “Terrance! Let us go! What do you think you’re doing?” Chris’ angry voice resounded off the walls, ringing in Becca’s ears.

  Ignoring Chris, the young officer grabbed Becca from behind and yanked her to her feet by her shoulders. Becca struggled as the much stronger man shoved her out of the room. She could barely shuffle with her ankles tied together. Chris’ angry screams were cut short, becoming no more than a muffled sound as Terrance slammed the door behind them.