Anguished Space

Wait...

"You didn't have to come with us today," Steve admitted tenderly. "I know campus brings everything back for you. Rips a bandage from a non-healing wound. I loved her too, but I wasn't in the middle of the chaos."

I took a glass of Chardonnay from his strong hand, a surgeon's hand; Steve was born to be a doctor. His inability to heal everything or try with his dying breath except nothing placed a salve on my hurt named Rachel.

"She encouraged me to tame you," I remembered giggling. "Rachel claimed your collections of girls weren't forever material. It might have been worded differently."

"Rachel was amazing, A light lost too soon," he said sadly. I met her in Kindergarten. Everyone gravitated toward her. She had it. Rachel knew I was partial to redheads.'

"Still partial to redheads," I teased.

"Just one."

My head titled for a kiss; Steve's cellphone vibrated his hospital tone. Once again, I lost to his mistress, his job; I have to share him with his patients. He's there when I needed him. Licking my lips, I grabbed our empty to a wine glass to start washing our dinner dishes, a sharp race along the bottom of my foot.

"Damn it! Carter, what have I told you about Legos on the carpet and poor unsuspecting bare feet? Lifting my leg to ease the pain, I lost my footing. Glass shattered around me. I wouldn't say I like the awful feeling of falling. Gravity laughed at you. Closing my eyes, I didn't want to see my favorite end table in my way. I hear a loud thud.

Steve must have put me in bed, or Cater slipped a pillow under my head in penance for his deadly spiky blocks of death.  Am I in Carter's bed? Not much space; I might roll to the floor if I roll on my stomach. Steve's call must have been an emergency. The kids volunteered to hover over me. Carter, my baby, must have insisted I sleep in his bunk beds.

"Late night," a groggy voice said. "You're' going to be late. Why didn't you wake me up? That's your job, Morning person."

A bump on the head and my children can't accept responsibility for waking up one time for school. Wait, it's Saturday. Wait, we don't have anything planned, do we? Why are they bothering me?"

"Leave me alone," I muttered painfully.

"You have class at 9. Get up! I can't deal with you when you miss breakfast," Rachel ordered.

Wait, I must have banged the hell out of my head. My kids sound like Rachel. I need to get out of bed and force my shadows away for another day. Swinging my legs over Carter's bed, Rachel stood in a fluffy pink towel, brushing her teeth. I am awake in a dream; I am in an unforgettable nightmare. Wake up! Don't relive this day.  Water ran down on my face. I hurried around dream Rachel. At least, she can't talk. A cool splash of water should force me out of my dream state.

"Watch the water!" Rachel screeched.

In the mirror, my nineteen-year-old face stared back at me? What the f**k is going on?