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It was just a dream. It was just a dream. I repeated this chant in my head, rocking back and forth, hands clasped around my knees, which I pulled as far up to my chest as I could. My eyes were squeezed shut so hard I could see a kaleidoscope of colors bursting behind them. Outside my window, the wind moaned its lament and I shivered slightly. I could see my curtains billowing softly from the breeze. I didn't remember opening it. It was so cold. I slid from the warm haven of my bed and slid my window shut, wincing slightly from the grating sound. I hoped I didn't wake anyone up. I looked around my room but could barely make anything out in the inky darkness. Something didn't seem right. Unease prickled the back of my neck and I felt the first beads of sweat trickle down my chest. The floor was cold on my feet and I froze in place after taking only a couple steps. My room had carpet; lush, soft carpet that my bare feet would sink into. Panic overtook me, snatching the breath from my lungs. I backed up, grasping for the edge of my bed before I could fall to the floor. Frantic, I looked around again, my eyes slowly adjusting to the dimness of the room. The bed, the small nightstand, the bathroom on the far side of the room. This wasn't MY room! Squeezing my eyes shut again, I repeated my previous mantra. It was just a dream. It was just a dream. It was just a dream. Surely when I opened them, I’d be snuggled up in my own queen sized bed with my cat Cleopatra curled up on my pillow just as she was every night. Tentatively I opened them, and found myself sitting in the same bleak room. Where the hell was I? How did I get here? Immediately, I leapt off the bed and sprinted to what I assumed was the door out of this tomb ~that's what this room was starting to feel like to me. A dark, stifling tomb. I could almost feel the walls closing in around me. I couldn't breathe. Grabbing hold of the handle, I turned it and yanked the door open, half expecting it to be locked, thus sealing me in my sarcophagus forever. I stepped out into an equally dismal hallway. By now, I had deduced that I was in a hospital. That's the only explanation that seemed rational to me. But why was I here? What happe-- Before I could finish that thought, relief washed over me. There was a nurse walking towards me. “Hey!” I raised my arm and waved to her. “Hey. Can you help me? Please?” She walked right by me, without acknowledging my voice nor even my presence. My arm dropped to my side. Abruptly I lifted it up again, turning it over. Then I did the same with the other. “I’m in the hospital,” I murmured. “But…. Why don't I have an IV?” My gaze turned to my wrist. “Where’s my wrist band?” “You don't need one, girl.” I jumped and let out a startled cry. Whirling around, I came face to face with an old man. His face was kindly, almost reminding me of my own father. My heart was racing and I was sure he could hear it from where he stood. He wore the same faded hospital gown as I did. It had once been white, in its better days, with blue trim and small blue triangles adorning it’s length. An odd choice, I thought, triangles…. I found my voice again after a few stuttering attempts. “Do you know where I can find a nurse? Or a doctor? I'm not sure what--" “Oh honey,” he spoke in a soothing voice, “there ain't no doctor or nurse who can help you.” I was confused. “But…. this is a hospital. “I felt like a child whose father was trying to explain something way beyond my comprehension. He started walking so I followed him, eager to find out what was going on. I wondered who he was, this seemingly sweet old man who had appeared out of nowhere. “My name is Stanley,” he said in that warm, welcoming voice, almost as if he could read my thoughts. “I fell.” He stated simply. “Bad sciatica you know. I fell a lot. My daughter was always chastising me about it. Funny isn't it?” I couldn't really see the humour in what he was trying to tell me. Again, he seemed to read my mind. “Oh, I say it's funny because I was always the one telling her to see the doctor about this or that.” He turned to me with a smile and a slight twinkle in his eyes. “Stubborn one, she is.” He laughed and my heart sincerely hoped this daughter, who he obviously loved deeply, cherished this dear old man. My heart started to ache for the father I had lost years ago. “So now here she is begging me to see the doctor.” He turned to me with that same little grin. “I guess this was the fall that finally made me listen.” Turning somber, he continued, “then I had a heart attack 2 days ago. Cardiac arrest they said. Took an awful long time to get that old ticker going again.” I stopped in my tracks, staring at him incredulously. “Shouldn’t you be resting? It can't be good for you to be walking around like this.” He simply waved his hand in the air and laughed. “Goodness, girl. You're starting to sound like my daughter. Always worrying. She was definitely a daddy’s girl. I miss her so much.” His voice trailed off wistfully. “Seriously mister..” “Stanley. Please. Stanley.” He kept walking. “Seriously, Stanley. You should be in bed. We need to find a nurse. You can't be alone.” “But I'm not alone,” he said gently. “My wife and daughter are here. Don't you worry. I'm not alone and never will be.” I was starting to get a weird fluttering in the deepest pit of my stomach. Again, that feeling of unease enveloped me. He spoke again, “tell me Debra. Tell me what is the last thing you remember?” Startled, I froze. “How do you know my name?” Ignoring my question, he asked his again. I started to say, I remember going to sleep but no, that wasn't right. I remembered…. I remembered driving home from my friend Derek’s house. It was raining so hard I could barely see the road. The rain bounced off the windshield like angry little pebbles. It was already after midnight and I had to work in the morning. But I was used to surviving on little sleep. I remember the glaring headlights swerving in front of me; coming right at me. I remember hearing the screeching tires, the shattering glass, the crunching of metal. Then nothing. I stopped talking and realized that in our travels, Stanley had led me to a set of double doors. Somehow, we had gone inside the room, although I had no recollection of opening them. There was a flurry of activity inside that little room. Nurses and doctors moving almost with the grace and choreography of dancers, yet amid chaos. It was mesmerizing to see their fluid motions and stoic complexions as they rushed to save whoever lay on the bed. Curious, I crept closer, surprised that no one noticed us and screamed at us to get out. When I was close enough, my gaze fell on the patient's face. Recognition registered in my brain at the very instant the nurse blurted out, “time of death, 1:11am.” I looked around for Stanley and saw him in the far corner of the room, standing with an elderly woman and a younger woman, in her 40's perhaps. They were hugging each other. They all looked…so happy. I couldn't recall ever seeing anyone beam with such joy. His gaze caught mine. He grinned that sweet grin that had already grown on me. Clarity suddenly dawned on me. He nodded and then turned his attention back to his wife and daughter. I blinked away the tears I didn't realize had started to fall from my eyes. When I looked up again, Stanley was gone. Turning around, I saw my own mom, dad and sister who had passed a few years ago. They waited patiently for me. I smiled. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;

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The Final Awakening

Debka77

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The Awakening

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Debbie Holick

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