When I awoke I was back in my bed, in my loft apartment overlooking the small city park. Rolling over felt like such a chore but I had to see what time it was, hell at this moment I couldn’t recall exactly which day it was. SUNDAY, I realized as I relaxed again. I slowly pulled myself up to a seated position, trying to get my wits about me and wake up. I glanced to the right, where I had a giant window floor to ceiling and looking out I could only see the tops of trees and the skyline. It was fall, the leaves had all began to turn colors and in a matter of days would hit their peak and begin to fall drastically until each branch left naked and grey stood to face the winter days ahead. The skies were bright and blue, soft white clouds swept the skyline above the trees as if they were soft brush strokes from a delicate hand of a painter long past. Taking in the moment, I got lost in the breath taking beauty imagining that I was in another universe, one where the weather is always a perfect 78 degrees, the sun is always shining and the ocean was only yards away from where I was. I placed my feet upon the floor in a swift motion, almost running to the window in hopes that world I had just imagined would become a reality once I got there. Opening the window just enough to let the sunlight hit my face and the cool breeze carrying the moist smell of earth into the apartment I got lost in the moment. It wasn’t the universe I had imagined at least not the ocean, but a small city of old buildings and tiered street lights.
The dreams had become more realistic, more frequent. Each waking day I lived a normal life, getting up, drinking coffee, reading the local news paper which was by now almost a thing of the past but considering I worked on a computer all day long, I enjoyed the smell of the ink, the feeling of the paper between my fingers and the silence it brings. My kitchen, small and cozy only held one small table with two chairs. The purpose of the other chair was for balance of the decor really as I rarely had company. Sundays are the one day of the week I get to myself, to reflect on the week, to relax. Today didn’t feel like most though, the dream from the night before still lingering on my skin. My back, still shooting pains as if that fall really did happen. Who was the girl? What did she look like? Why THIS dream? Why now? I could no longer focus on whatever slander the papers held today, I’m not even sure I actually read any headlines on it, as I turned my attention out the window to see a man standing below my building appearing to be looking directly at me. Four stories high, I didn’t think much about him, I simply glanced back at my coffee cup, drank the last sip and stood to place it in the sink when the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I had felt this before, in the dreams… Was it him? It wasn’t a painful fear of energy though, like when he arrives, it was just, an energy. I spun around quickly to see once again the man I had just almost made eye contact with but he wasn’t there. The street was empty, only fall leaves rushing back and fourth across the sidewalk and an old mini van at the street light smoking as if it were running on fire wood. As I sat back down at my table, picking the news paper back up there was a knock at my door, the energy returned and the hair once again stood up in my neck and arms. I was hesitant to move, thinking if I just didn’t move, breath, they would go away. ‘Bam, Bam Bam’ it came again on the old wooden door, but this time heavier, with more intent. The creepy feeling went away and was instantly replaced by panic when a voice behind the door shouted “Miss Fogler, this is detective Jacobson I need a moment of your time please”.
