Dream Haunter (14 page)

Read Dream Haunter Online

Authors: Shayna Corinne

Tags: #dreams, #christian, #finding yourself, #lust and love

BOOK: Dream Haunter
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Sam’s dad cuts her off, “Helen! Stop
that! He’s not a child anymore! Can’t you see that?”

His mother tightens her jaw as she
storms off into the kitchen, pushing the wooden swinging door open
as she motions his dad to follow.

Shouting booms from the kitchen, right
before Mrs. Winters goes running up the stairs to her bedroom. His
dad slowly walks back over to Melody and Sam, shaking his head
which causes his short, light brown hair to stick up in random
ways.


Don’t let your love end.
Your mother and I loved each other like you two do, when we were
your age. Then one day I came home from work and she looked at me
in a new way, almost disgusted. I never asked her why she looked at
me like that, so we just tumbled right out of our happiness
together. Never let something slide like that, even if it’s just a
little thing. Always ask how the other ones feeling, I don’t want
you to end up like us.” 

…………………………………………
.

There is no dinner that night. Sam and
Melody would have left hours ago if his dad hadn’t begged them to
stay the night. So Sam carries their belongings to the basement,
noticing that his mother had set up his old room for him, but
nowhere for Melody.


I'm sorry she yelled at you
like that. She’s always kind of babied me,” Sam apologizes as he
drops their back packs next to his old dresser.

Melody just nods, not really knowing
what to say; she’s never been able to handle being yelled at very
well. He grabs blankets from his old closet, arranging them on the
floor next to the bed.


You can have the bed,”
 he says as he lowers himself to the floor.

She pulls the black and white covers
back, crawling underneath them as Sam hits the light
switch.

She lays on her back, staring up at the
pitch black ceiling. Her heart stretches and snaps remembering what
Sam’s mom had said to her, and how true it was. A tear rolls down
her cheek, she doesn’t deserve him; even his mother doesn’t think
so. She begins to sob uncontrollably; each time she goes to wipe
her tears away more come.


Melody?” Sam calls out as
he sits up, reaching his arm onto the bed, searching for her,
“Melody, are you ok?”

She shakes her head, even though he
can’t see her in the darkness. “I don’t deserve you. I’ve hurt you
so much and you’re still so perfect and…” her voice breaks off into
another set of sobs. 

Sam climbs up on to the bed next to
her, pushing back the soft white sheets that reek of his mother’s
favorite lavender laundry soap, holding her tight against his
chest.


Don’t say that,” he
whispers, “I don’t want anyone else but you. I don’t care if we
have moments where things don’t make sense or aren’t perfect,
because at the end of the day I know that I
love
you.”

He kisses her hair, squeezing her
tight, repeating over and over that he loves her until she stops
shaking.

Melody holds him back. “I’ve done you
so wrong though…”

Sam shakes his head, gripping her arms.
“I’ve seen what happens to you when he’s around, and that’s not
you. This is you,” he brushes her hair off of her face, rocking her
until they both fall asleep.

Chapter
Twenty-Two

Sam wakes up before Melody, the morning
sunlight filling the room from the small circular window that sits
above the head board as the smell of lavender and coffee swirl
around the room. He smiles, looking up at the guitar cord poster
that he pinned to his ceiling back when he was in high school so he
could play lying on his back.

Melody sighs in her sleep as she rolls
closer to him, tugging the white sheets around her shoulders. He
smiles down at her, resting his chin on top of her head as the
warmth of her skin puts him back to sleep.

Something pushes the bedroom door open,
casting a beam of light across the floor as his mother’s figure
casts a shadow over the two of them.


You little tramp! You
persuaded my son to sleep with you…
whore
!” his mother yells more but it
is just a bunch of random curse words all strung
together.

Melody curls herself up in Sam’s arms,
skittish from the rude awakening.  His mother comes to the
side of the bed, raising her hand ready to slap Melody, her
lavender silk blouse rising with her arm. Sam leans over Melody,
protecting her.


Stop!” Sam
shouts.

 
His mother puts her
hands on her hips, huffing. “Excuse me? I'm your mother, young man,
you listen to me! I know what’s best for you!”

Her long fingers interlace inside of
Melody’s long red hair, balling into fists at her scalp, pulling
her out from under Sam. Melody screams as she tries to pull her
hair free from the middle-aged woman’s grasp while Sam fights his
mother off. He shoves his mother to the floor, feeling horrible for
doing such a thing, but she wasn’t listening, she never
does.


I am a
grown
man
! I
know what’s best for me now,” Sam shouts, holding Melody tight
against his chest, blood boiling beneath his skin, “Don’t lay a
hand on Melody
EVER
again!” He slides Melody off of the bed, keeping her at his
side as he shoves the rest of their belongings into their back
packs. He stands in the door frame, looking back over at his mother
lying on the floor in shock. He bites his lip, he has never been so
angry with his mother so this feeling is hard to deal
with.


Don’t ever call her
something like that again. You hurt me by hurting her,” he starts
to take a step forward, still worked up enough to add a little bit
of hostility at the end of his words, “Oh and we’re getting
married, whether you like it or not.”

Sam pulls Melody up the white carpeted
stairs, his feet stomping against them, as he reaches the tan tiled
landing next to the front door.

Mr. Winters sits in the dining room, a
few dissected newspapers spread across the stained oak
table.


Sam, are you ok?” Mr.
Winters asks, looking over the rim of his newspaper at
him.

 
Sam shakes his head as
his father stands from the table, walking over and pulling him into
his arms. He leads him to the door.


Come on you can leave after
we go out and have breakfast,” his father says while Sam and Melody
slide into the Station Wagon, following his father’s
pickup.

Melody lays her hand on Sam’s stiff
cheeks. “I love you, Sam.”

His face softens, a boyish smile
spreading across his face. That smile could stop time if he let it,
but right now it makes her heart skip three beats.

The two cars pull into the parking lot
of the homely looking diner with its unlit neon sign that reads
“Carl’s”. Sam turns the car off, leaning across the seat to gently
kiss Melody. He holds her face a few inches away from his,
searching her eyes for the strength to handle what his dad is going
to say. Melody laces her fingers with his, leading him into the
diner.

………………………………………………………
..

Sticky, green leather booths line the
walls next to dusty blinds hanging from the window, the smell of
grease and spilled coffee tickle Sam’s nose. His father has never
been one for fancy restaurants or snobby waiters, his mother is the
one that’s always been longing for that high society life
style.

Mr. Winters smiles, thanking the
waitress as she hands them their brown vinyl menus and walks
away.


You really love her, don’t
you Sam?” Mr. Winters asks.

 
Sam laughs a little,
squeezing Melody’s hand. “Yes very much.”

He rubs a circle on her palm with his
thumb as she looks through the menu. His father sloshes his black
coffee in its brown mug.


I'm not going to put this
off Sam, I saw you shove your mother, and heard you yelling at
her,” his father says.

 
Sam plays with
Melody’s fingers; it has slowly become a nervous habit for him. “I
didn't want to hurt her in anyway. She was just hurting Melody and
I…”

The air around Sam grows tense and he
begins to find it hard to breathe. Melody picks up on it, pulling
him in closer to her as Mr. Winters nods and closes his
menu.


I understand.”

Sam puts his arm around Melody, pulling
her into his side. “Is she okay?”

His dad laughs, small wrinkles at the
corner of her eyes showing, the booth squeaking as he leans back.
“She’s fine! It’s just her pride you hurt.”

The waitress comes back, pulling a
yellow note pad out of her brown waist band, her hand moving fast
as she scribbles down their orders. She smiles, taking their menus
before she walks back to the kitchen.


Make sure she knows that I
didn't mean to hurt her, ok?” Sam says once the waitress is out of
sight.

His father smiles as he pours a packet
of sugar into his coffee. “She’s your mother, Sam. You know she
won’t hold this against you.”

Once they have made it through their
breakfast, well more like lunch considering they ordered two
burgers and a steak, Mr. Winters walks them back to their vehicle,
the sun beating down on the gravel and pavement.


Well, I hope to hear from
you two again soon,” Mr. Winters says as he brings Sam and Melody
into a tight bear hug.

  …………………………………………………
..

They watch as the pickup pulls out of
the parking lot, waving as his father drives down the street back
to his home. Melody leans her head against the side of the leather
seat, her eyes still tired from the rude awakening they had this
morning.


I think I like your
dad
way
better than
your mom,” she admits.

She pulls her legs up onto the seat
next to herself. Sam laughs, even though he feels like what had
happened is no laughing matter.


Yeah, my dad’s always been
the one who treats me like an adult, even when I was a little kid
he treated me like that,” Sam agrees.  Melody smiles, closing
her eyes as her skin soaks up the vigorous morning sunbeams that
shine in through the windshield.

……………………………………………
..

Melody jerks awake a few hours later,
the sound of a train whistle sending her pulse racing. Sam looks
her over, seeing her surprised face as the train crosses the
tracks.

He laughs, reaching across the seat and
squeezing her leg. “You ok?”

She sighs, seeing the blinking lights
that signal the train leaving. “Yeah, um, can you stop by the
grocery store before you get to my place? I need to pick up some
food if you’re going to be staying with me.”

Sam nods, pulling into the parking lot
of the white and green grocery store. Melody slips out the car
door, grabbing her purse from the back seat.


I’ll be back in a few
minutes I just need a few things,” she says, getting ready to turn
on her heels and walk into the store.

 
Sam turns the engine
off, reaching across the seat, pulling her back into the
car.


Sam…” she
whines.

He smirks, reaching up and gently
pulling her face down to his. “Be back quick.”

She blushes, pushing her hair behind
her ear as she begins to walk into the grocery store. Dim,
florescent lights, sticky linoleum flooring and bad elevator music
greats her as she walks pass the line of cash registers. The bag
boy stares at her blushing face as she pushes the shopping cart,
one of its wheels squeezing, through the aisles of breads and
cheeses.

Sam sprawls his legs out across the
seat of his car, pressing his face against the window, almost ready
to fall asleep, when a hauntingly familiar face in the driver’s
seat of a black Honda s2000 driving towards him. Sam cranes his
head to get a better look out the window, his eyes widening as he
reaches for his keys.


Jet!” his scream slips past
his lips too late; Jet crashes into the driver’s side of the orange
Station Wagon.

……………
..………………………


Paper or plastic?” is the
last thing Melody remembers hearing, her debit card is held in
between her pointer and middle finger, as her eyes watch the black
Honda slam against the Station wagon.

Time slows as the black crunches
against the orange driver side door.


SAM!” Melody screams, her
debit card slipping from her fingers.

The plastic card clatters against the
floor as Melody breaks down in a puddle of tears. The Honda backs
out of the parking lot, its wheels squeal against the pavement as
it shoots down the intersection.

Melody runs through the automatic
doors, pushing pass on lookers as they gawk at Sam’s car. The whole
driver’s side is folded in towards him.


SAM!” she screams out, her
fingers grabbing at the crinkled metal, the sharp edges pointing
out and slicing her fingers as she pulls on them, trying to get to
Sam, but the door won’t budge.

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