Seeing Shadows (24 page)

My breath hitched as I wiped my eyes. I wondered desperately if this would be the end of me. It was bad enough that the visions were happening again with frequency. But the quality of the dreams were becoming so realistic that I found my mind rebelling against it, wanting to shut down not only from the pain but everything else. The visions had always seemed real, but I had always felt detached from them, like I was watching a movie. Now I was in the movie, but still just as helpless to do anything.

I looked at the clock on my bedside table and saw that it was almost four in the morning. I laid back in bed, forcing my breaths to even out. I had a full day of classes ahead of me, then an evening shift at Colette's. I wanted nothing more than to stay holed up in the apartment, building the shield up again around my mind so that I could function.

My junior year in high school I had started having visions almost every night. It began to take a toll on me mentally and physically. Physically because of the lack of sleep, but the mental damage was even greater. I began doubting my sanity, wondering if my mind was playing tricks on me and I wasn't having visions of people I would meet in the future. I wondered if instead I was slowly going crazy and imagining the whole thing. I began withdrawing more and more into myself. The meager social life I had established began slipping away as I holed myself in my room after school, often skipping school altogether. My father had noticed my disintegration but simply shook his head, commenting that he had always feared that I would be an underachiever.

Paranoia had also taken a hold of me as I was convinced that I was being followed. It had been hard to not feel as if eyes were following my every move, especially when I left my house. Life had begun to look very grim and I desperately wanted to escape it. Yet a part of me held strong. It was as if a part of me separated itself and observed my life dispassionately - aware of my suffering but also realizing that there was a possibility of something more. It was this part of me that had pushed the thoughts of suicide away, as tempting as they had been sometimes. And I had gotten through it. Near the end of my junior year, the number of visions had decreased. I was still having them on a weekly basis but not every day. I had some room to breathe and build myself back up so that each vision had less and less power to chip away at who I was.

By my senior year in high school, the walls were strong and I was able to be an active participant in life again. I still had frequent visions but I was able to compartmentalize that part of my life.

But back then the visions had never been so personal. Even during the early years of college when I was still having frequent visions, it was as if my mind had tuned into a horrible channel and I was unable to turn it off. But with this last vision, I was now within the scenes. Instead of just hearing and seeing the scenes of brutality, I was now a part of them - smelling the coppery odor of blood and feeling the burning of my eyes as the cold wind snapped against me. How could my mind build up walls against this? I feared it couldn't.

I laid in bed until dawn, too exhausted to make my way to the living room to distract myself with infomercials. I wasn't sure how I was going to make it through the day. I didn't even want to try. But the part of me that was determined to survive reared its head again, forcing me to get out of bed. I went through the motions of getting ready for the day and forced myself to leave for my classes. I left the apartment before Sarah woke up. I didn't think I could take her concerned questions. I knew she meant well, but I wasn't ready to face the truth myself, let alone to anyone else.

I was trudging out of the last class of the day, Economics, and making my way to Colette's when I felt the sensation of being watched again. I quickened my pace. Although the fellow students milling around me should have made me feel safe, it didn't make me feel any less alone. By the time I made it off campus and was only a few blocks away from Colette's, my anxiety kicked into high gear. The street I was walking on was deserted and the sky was darkening, casting everything into an ominous shadow. I cursed the early evenings of winter. I anxiously cast my eyes from side to side as I walked, not wanting to be surprised. Surprised by what, I wasn't sure. I didn't know if my fear was a result of my imagination, but I wasn't willing to chance it.

Suddenly, I heard a hiss as if someone was expelling air through closed teeth. What made me scream was that the hiss sounded like it was coming from right behind me, as if the person responsible for the hiss was breathing down my neck.

I whipped around, my heart pounding in my ears. Nothing. There was nothing but an empty sidewalk behind me. My breathing felt more and more strained as I began feeling lightheaded. I dazedly wondered if this was the beginning of a panic attack. I had never had one before, but the feeling of anxiety and fear overtaking me felt debilitating.

"Hello?" I called out, my voice sounding feeble in the night air. "Is anyone out there?" I felt stupid calling out, not expecting anyone to answer me. It was more that I needed to hear my own voice to confirm that I was lucid and functioning.

After pausing a few seconds and only hearing the whipping wind as my reply, I turned and started making progress again, although my walking was more akin to a light jog.

"Caitlin, get a hold of yourself," I muttered. "You can't go crazy yet. You still have to get through one and a half semesters."

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, when I suddenly felt a cold hand on my shoulder, gripping tight. Dread was emanating from the hand, snaking into every part of my body. The feeling didn't even make sense to me, but my body kicked into survival mode. I had no desire to turn around and see whether there was someone real behind me or if this was a figment of my imagination. Self-preservation took control and I started running. The hand was ripped from my shoulder as I ran as fast as I could, too terrified to scream. Nothing could be sacrificed from my burning desire to save myself by running as fast as I could - certainly not a scream that no one would hear.

I didn't stop until I reached Colette's, ripping open the door and flinging myself in. As the warmth and familiarity of the cafe enveloped me, I bent over and dropped my hands to my knees, panting as I struggled to draw in deep breaths. The adrenaline was leaving my body and I was left with heaving gasps of air as I tried to catch my breath, the frantic running having taken its toll. Sarah was the runner, not me. The few times she had been able to convince me to go running with her, I had ended up walking most of the way when my lungs had protested from being overused.

"You okay?" Colleen asked with a raised eyebrow. She was standing behind the register and looking at me in a way that made me feel foolish. I realized that all eyes in the cafe were on me. I must have made a spectacle of myself, running into Colette's as if demons were chasing me. The thought made my heart clutch in fear and I shook my head, forcing myself to ground myself in reality.

"Sorry," I said with a wry look as I caught my breath. "I thought I was going to be late for my shift and ran all the way here from class. Not a great idea, I guess, considering the only time I run is when I see a spider."

Colleen glanced at the clock on the wall and looked back at me as if I had two heads. "You're twenty minutes early."

I tried to laugh as I walked past the counter. "You know I'm a stickler for punctuality."

I walked to the back room where employees stashed their belongings before Colleen could make another comment. I took my work shirt out of my backpack and quickly changed into it, stowing my bag underneath a chair.

I was working with Marnie, and for once her constant chatter was welcome. It made it hard to think about anything else as I tried to keep up with her quickly changing topics. They ranged from the boy in her class that had asked her out, to her sandwich at lunch that had tasted funny. Marnie was also beside herself with excitement over coming to our party tomorrow night. I was able to fill my head with her lightning fast topic changes so that there was room for nothing else.

I went home that night exhausted, a combination of the fatigue of adrenaline, the lack of sleep from the night before and being on my feet at Colette's. I was able to convince myself I had imagined being grabbed from behind earlier because of exhaustion. I had no other explanation for it. At least, no explanation I was willing to accept.

Sarah and the rest of the group were hanging out at the East End tonight and she had texted for me to join them, but I had begged off due to exhaustion, wanting to go straight to bed. I prayed that I would have a dreamless sleep, but she was waiting for me the moment I closed my eyes. Demanding that I witness her death yet again.

**********

I watched the morning come in from the living room couch as an infomercial about a gadget for people who loved boiled eggs but hated peeling them hummed in the background. I heard Sarah's door open and she padded out into the living room, frowning when she saw me already there.

"Another vision?" she asked softly, compassion etched on her face.

I shrugged and made an attempt at a smile. "Either that, or I desperately want to know how to enjoy a dozen hard boiled eggs without having to peel even one."

Sarah sat down next to me with a sigh. "Considering you don't even like hard boiled eggs, I'll say it was another vision."

I gave her an exaggerated look of censure. "I'll have you know that I've enjoyed plenty of deviled eggs in my time."

Sarah rolled her eyes but smiled. "No jokes." She took on a serious expression. "Do you want to talk about it? Maybe it'll make you feel better."

I sighed, debating how much to tell Sarah. Even though I confided in Sarah more than anyone else, I had only described a few visions to her and not on a detailed level. Describing the visions out loud made me fear that they would actually happen, even if that fear was irrational.

"There was a girl in my vision being attacked and beaten to death with a piece of plywood."

Sarah shuddered, looking horrified. "Oh God, that's horrible. Who was beating her?"

"I don't know. I never see the attacker in my visions when it's a murder. Not their face anyways. Just the victims."

"Have you met the girl in your vision yet?"

I shook my head. "No. I'm hoping that I won't but if my past is any predictor, it's inevitable that I will. A part of me is dreading it but another part of me just wants to get it over with so I don't keep tensing every time I see a blonde with short hair."

"So the girl is blonde?" Sarah asked.

"Yeah. Pretty soon, every blonde on campus is going to think I'm a freak by the way I look at them."

"It's okay. Your close friends already know you're a freak," Sarah joked. I knew Sarah was trying to lift my spirits and I tried to let it work. I had a fun day ahead of me. A party for one of my close friends, the prospect of seeing people dressed in crazy costumes and the Henchmen playing at the East End. Seeing Simon. At the last thought, I shook the cobwebs from my mind.

"Birds of a feather," I retorted with a smile. "We should start getting ready for the party tonight."

Sarah clapped her hands in excitement, the morbid discussion of my visions forgotten. "It's going to be so much fun. The keg is being delivered later, so we just have the decorations, the cake and the food to deal with. Plus costumes."

"Sarah," I warned. "I'm not wearing a costume."

"I know, I know." Sarah knew not to push her luck. "I just have to pick up my hat at the costume store. I'll pick up the cake too since it's on the way." Sarah was going as a cowgirl and was able to pull pieces together from her wardrobe to create a fantastic costume, but still needed a cowboy hat.

"Great. I'll start getting the food ready." Even though most college parties didn't have much food besides bowls of chips, I wanted to make this special. The party was in honor of Jenny's twenty-first birthday, as well as Halloween, so I wanted to make sure we had plenty to eat. For the Halloween themed snacks, I was making hot dogs wrapped in biscuit dough to look like mummies and cookies baked in the shape of brooms with pretzel rods inserted as handles.

We both got ready for the day, chatting about last minute details for the party and promising each other to keep an eye on Jenny so that she didn't drink herself into oblivion. After Sarah left to run her errands, I busied myself in the kitchen making all the party goodies.