The Nightmare again

He sees her standing there in her favorite pink t-shirt and dark blue jeans. The ones with the rhinestones up the outside of her thigh circling around to her butt. He likes this outfit because it screams comfort and that's exactly what he looks for when he gets dressed. He has on a black t-shirt and black jeans, with black sneakers on. His normal style of dress because he doesn't like to stand out much. His height is around 5'10 and his skin is a dark caramel brown in complexion with dark brown hair. He's of mixed descent, with brown eyes a wide nose, and his build is athletic without being overly muscular. As long as he doesn't draw attention to himself he can usually disappear in a crowd. Today it isn't helping because they are standing together on the street corner and she is yelling at him at the top of her lungs.

" I've had it with your lies Jerry! This is it I'm done! Don't ever contact me or try to see me again!" Lisa yells.

This is when it happens always at this particular point, never before. He knows exactly what is going to happen next. He doesn't know why he knows, he just knows he does, and that confuses him even more. Then time seems to go into slow motion he wants to reach out and stop her, because as soon as she takes three steps into the crosswalk she is going to be hit by a car. She's so angry and frustrated with him she doesn't pay attention. He feels if he can just find the right words to say he can change this, but time is running out. She has already take one step into the crosswalk. That's when it comes to him. He knows exactly what to say. He yells it to her as hard as he can, but she can't hear. Only he can hear his own words. Nobody else on the street, especially not her, can hear what he's saying. He tries to move but it's as if his feet are cemented to the sidewalk. He reaches out but it's as if he's paralyzed from the waist down but he's still able to stand. Two steps. He now frantically tried so desperately to reach her but can't. Three steps and right before impact he wakes up. Always at the same point does he wake up, never before.

He always has the same questions whenever he has that nightmare. Why does it feel so real, as if he were literally there? He remembers the feel of the wind on his freshly shaved face. The warmth of the sun on the back of his neck. The smell of the Whitecastles behind him. Why now after ten years does he still have nightmares of that day? He had beaten himself up for so long because at the time he didn't know what to say to her to prevent her death. He didn't know the right words to change his world around. But he knows them now. They have become so ingrained in his mind that he couldn't forget them now if he tried. But what difference does it make now. Now is too late. The love of his life is dead now, and there is nothing he can do about it. At least that is how he sees it. But Professor Mike Peters of the Neotic Science Division at Princeton University, and lifelong friend keeps trying to convince him otherwise. Mike's latest finding he's been rambling on about seems to point to a possible answer and solution to my problem. The only thing is he's the only one of us who thinks I have a problem that can be fixed.

This nightmare never fails to wake me up right before my alarm is meant to go off. So I reach over and shut it off and get up to take a shower. Another side effect is cold sweats. I will have to remember to change my sheets again. My one bedroom apartment isn't big which I like because that means when it's time to clean I have less work to do. I keep my place tidy, I'm no where near a neat freaky but I'm also not messy. Dark colors have always seemed to sooth me so my decor, from a female point of view, may seem dreary and drab. The hardwood floor have a black and white snow tiger throw rug that stretches under my coffee table, couch, love seat, and front of my entertainment center. I have a 48" flat screen TV, a surround sound system, a laptop, and a 30 gig Zune multimedia player. My couch and love seat are a dark burgundy felt material. My window blinds are burgundy Venetian blinds and my entertainment center is black. Like I said dark colors sooth me.

After taking a shower I head off to work at the bread company. I make decent money with my bread route and it leaves me with my days fairly open to do with as I please. Today after work Mike wanted me to visit him in his lab to help with some strange experiment he was trying. If we weren't such good friend I would have told him to go screw himself, but since we've been there for each other since first grade I just couldn't bring myself to say no. He promised with a laugh that it wouldn't hurt a bit. I don't trust that laugh. It's gotten me in more trouble then I care to remember.

As I'm heading out of the apartment building I live in, Ms. Sanchez the elderly woman who lives two doors down was coming in. She had two small grocery bags and her purse under her arm and was having a little trouble getting her key in the lock. I asked her if she needed any help as I passed, and she smiled and said "no, but thank you for asking" At that moment I found myself reaching out and didn't know why when her pocketbook suddenly fell out from under her arm upside down into my waiting hand. I hadn't seen her pocketbook falling or could have known it would, but for some strange reason I reacted to an event that didn't happen yet. We both stood there staring first at me holding her bag and then at each other with mirrored confusion on our faces. She hesitantly retrieved her bag from me, thanking me all along, but I can tell she was as freaked as I was with what had just happened. And as I left the building on my way to work I couldn't help but feel this was going to be one of those days.