Waking Up in the Present

Bailey opened her eyes. She was drenched in sweat. She peeked at her alarm clock with green glowing numbers. It was two hours before she was supposed to wake up. She rubbed her tired eyes. She had dreamt about that day again. It was a nightmare in real life that now haunted her in her dreams. A year had passed, and it still felt like it happened yesterday.

Bailey pushed the duvet to the side and slung her legs over the bed. She shuffled to the kitchen, her bare feet making very little noise. It was an odd habit she had picked up. She always wanted to be as discreet as possible. Although no one would mind, and it gave her sister many heart attacks, it was so important on that day. They had to be silent, or they would die - unless of course, they were Clay Slater.

She could still recall him laughing in the hallways – drawing all the attackers to him. She suddenly had a flashback of him holding a bloody bat, his face covered in splatters, walking out of the corridor towards her. He turned his head. "You're wearing the new sport's watch…funny, I thought they were only going to be released next year. Does it count your steps?"

Bailey had nodded. "Wow," he smiled. "It must be logging in quite a workout." He winked at her. "Run."

And that is what she did. She started running again.

Bailey slammed the glass of water onto the counter and shook her head. She tried to think of something else. Kent from next door was quite cute, and he had asked her to have coffee later that day. She should go out and have a normal conversation with someone other than her sister. "Can't sleep again?"

Bailey looked up to see Naomi walking in and sitting close to the kitchen counter. She grabbed her glass and started drinking. "Five hours…It's a record," Bailey whispered. "It's getting better… "Hmmm," Naomi handed the glass back to Bailey. "That's good."

"You don't have to stay up with me."

"Of course I do. You hate being alone."

Bailey nodded. It was true, she could not stand the thought of being alone in a room for too long. She got triggered easily. She had gone to see a therapist about it a couple of times, but her trauma was not showing signs of disappearing any time soon.

"You know... I've got something for you," Naomi pulled a box from her robe's pocket and placed it on the counter. "I was hoping you will like it." Bailey opened the box to see a small, cute, silver necklace. "To celebrate a year of survival…" Naomi said.

"It's beautiful."

"Wear it every day, okay? I spent a fortune on that," she smiled.

Bailey nodded, fastening the necklace around her neck. She gathered her dark brown hair out of her face. "I didn't get you a gift recently?"

"Trust me, you being alive is more than enough."

Bailey remembered seeing Naomi standing at the edge of the police barricade. The incident garnered a lot of media attention. It had been broadcasted over the news, which attracted large crowds of people who knew someone that could have been hurt. And because of the media frenzy, Naomi had waited for almost ten hours to find out whether she was alive. When she did, she hugged her so hard that she almost suffocated to death.

"You ever talk to some of the students who survived?" she asked.

"I talk to Ben and Nathan occasionally. Sometimes Talia…" Bailey replied. "We're all just coping with everything that happened."

"Yeah, but most of them did not have to deal with Clay too…The stories you have told me about that guy makes my skin crawl," Naomi tapped on the counter. Bailey nodded, boiling the kettle, and making some coffee for them both. She finished it quickly and made a b-line for the shower, avoiding the mirror as much as she could. She got dressed in her typical black-and-white suit, tied her hair in a long high ponytail, put on her makeup and heels, and said goodbye to her sister before she left their apartment.

Bailey took the bus like clockwork. She never used to follow a routine, but it gave her a certain level of control. Each day was the same, she made sure of that. She liked it. The routine. The stability. The robot flicks from red to green. She chose the same seat on the bus; the driver reserved it, especially for her. She also knew almost all the other regulars in her time slot. The mundane had become something she looked forward to, instead of longing for an extraordinary life anymore.

Bailey walked into her office. She was early, as per usual. She got herself another cup of coffee before sitting down at her desk and grinding. Her boss really liked her. When she put her head down, she would complete her entire work quota, have a fifteen-minute lunch, then come back and carry on. Bailey was one of their most reliable assets. Her work ethic was meticulous, and she didn't mind working overtime.

The day ticked by, and before she knew it, it was finished. She looked up to see the newest headline on the tv in the lounge – ": Survivor of College Student Massacre Dies on Train Tracks." Bailey swallowed hard and stood up. "I need to go home," she whispered to herself, bolting to the elevator. Before she managed to reach the exit, her phone rang. She rolled her eyes. Her boss frequently had last-minute tasks for her to do. She lifted her phone and frowned when she saw it was a private number. She answered it anyway, placing the phone to her ear.

"Bailey…Bailey is that you?" the person sounded desperate.

Bailey's heart started racing. "Who is this?" she asked cautiously.

For a moment there was no response, but then she heard a familiar laugh in the background, one that tormented the college halls one year ago.

She froze as she heard him speak. "What fun we'll have, won't we?"

The call ended, but it left Bailey weak to her core.