Insomnia: A Brooklyn Tale

CHAPTER 3 (KATE)

My brilliant idea to grade my students on a performance had certain repercussions. First of all, I was trapped in a classroom filled with loud, sometimes-unbearable noise every day – I forced myself to embrace the racket, however. Secondly, I was obligated to stay after school almost every day so that I could help every student individually. Keeping busy certainly helped my state of mind, but it was slowly starting to wear me down.

As I dragged my heavy feet into my apartment one late afternoon I was just in time to answer my ringing, cordless phone. It was Natalie.

“Finally, sis! I was getting worried. I already left four messages.” Natalie babbled into my ear and I laughed, pulled my shoulder bag over my head and dropped it to the floor.

“Four? Wow! That’s a record…I think…I do have a cell phone, you know?” I pointed out and I could almost see her shrug.

“I didn’t want to wake you…” She explained and I laughed again as I settled down into the sofa in the living room.

“Oh yeah…and calling five times on the house phone will not wake me…” I stated. She paused for a moment, obviously thinking over my statement.

“That is true…but you know I always call after four. Oh! I don’t know. Sorry…did I wake you?” She asked in a small voice.

“Nah! I just got in. Had a late day at work.” I told her.

“A late day? Uhm…Kate…you should be careful…” She started.

“Stop! I’m fine.”

“Right! But you should go for a run around the block, watch a movie and then turn in for the night.” She suggested hopefully and I smiled. Go for a run? I’d collapse halfway out the door.

“You always did make my insomnia sound like a military operation.” I giggled.

“Well, isn’t it?” She asked amused. “I mean, maybe if you managed eight hours of sleep there’d be world peace.” She joked. We both laughed at the idea.

“No, but really…” She started.

“Nat! Stop. I have a good feeling about tonight. I might even catch some sleep.” I encouraged her and she gave up.

We chatted for a few more moments to catch up. She was very excited about Jake’s prodigal brother, who had finally returned and…blah blah blah. It wasn’t that what she said wasn’t important, but my brain was doing the sort-and-only-keep-what’s-important thing.

When we finally hung up, I dragged myself off to my bathroom, filled the bathtub to the brim and then soaked in the tub for hours. I even dosed off for about ten minutes before jerking awake in lukewarm water. I dressed in my flannel pajamas, fully intent on crawling into bed and sleeping all the way through the night. A girl could always dream, couldn’t she? But I had no such luck. After tossing and turning for three hours, I hauled myself out of bed and made my way into the kitchen to have a snack.

Normally I could keep myself well occupied in my apartment through the night, but not that night. That night my sanctuary felt like a prison, small and stifling. At first I walked the floor of every room like a caged animal and when it didn’t work, I took a cold shower to wash off the pent up tension and dressed myself in jeans and a T-shirt. In the end it was just no use and I grabbed my sweater and was out the door with determination. Outside I greedily gulped in the cool night air.

I threw on the sweater and zipped it up high before taking another deep breath. The smell of rain was apparent in the air and it brought a smile to my face. I scanned the area before taking off down the street, deciding that since I was up I might as well run down to the 24-hour store for the essentials.

Living in New York City would change any person’s perspective and routines. There were unwritten rules that all New Yorkers learnt quickly about traveling at night.

You never talk to strangers. You never walk anywhere alone, but if you have to, always keep to the main, well-lit streets. And if you think you’re being followed, you run and don’t look back. That night I broke all three rules.

Halfway to the shop there was a sudden rumble of thunder. As if that summoned the rain, a cloud burst above me, soaking me in mere seconds. I picked up my pace and aimed for an alley to my left. My heart was beating rapidly at my dangerous change of course. It was a shortcut that led me into Love Lane, a street that always seemed so chirpy and merry during the day, but I realized at night it was dark and eerily quiet. The rain was beating down on me and I kept my head down and moved quickly.

I thought I’d heard something and anxiously glanced over my shoulder. My blood ran cold. Trailing, not too far behind me, was a shadowy figure that reminded me of the silly horror movies that Natalie had always forced me to watch with her. I mean, the ratty coat and beanie pulled low over the brow…I’m talking slasher-movie villain.

I swallowed convulsively and sped up a little, nervously glancing over my shoulder again. I imagined the man – for his frame was too large to be a woman – moved a little faster too and my breath caught as terror threatened to suffocate me. I was almost running when headlights suddenly appeared from around the corner, blinding me and consequently halting me in my tracks. It swerved dangerously before speeding up again. My eyes followed its swaying journey and it’s nearness to the curb surprised me. The shadowy figure must have been blinded too, because he didn’t seem to move a muscle when the car darted in his direction. Shock paralyzed me as I witnessed the moment of impact.

Everything happened in slow-motion and it was not as loud and showy as portrayed in the movies. There was only a muffled thud, followed by a discreet cracking sound as the man hit the bonnet and then the windscreen. His body was flung over the roof of the car before it fell to the damp pavement like a rag doll.

The car screeched to a halt only for a moment before it revved and sped away. My eyes followed the retreating vehicle for a moment, too shocked to move. A groan brought me back to reality. It was the injured man and I was at his side immediately. All the fear I had felt toward him was drowned out by the terror and shock of what I had just witnessed. He couldn’t move and was struggling to breathe; the infamous beanie was gone now, lost somewhere in the rain and confusion. There was a nasty gash to the side of his neck and I panicked but pulled myself together when I saw the fear in his eyes. Yes, there was fear in HIS eyes.

“It’s okay…I got you.” I said in a trembling voice. I took off my sweater and used it to try and stop the bleeding. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed 911, all the while looking around for someone to help me. I wasn’t the right person for this. I was incapable and…well, sleep-deprived.

“Yes, I need an ambulance! There has been an accident. Please hurry!” I gave them the address and hung up. I was hysterical; I knew I was losing control. I shoved the phone back into my pocket before focusing on him again. He couldn’t be more than thirty. He was a big guy and I hoped that his athletic physique would save his life.

“They’re coming. Okay, just hang on.” I tried to reassure him. By now he was deathly pale and in clear agony. All the while, the rain was still coming down mercilessly.

“Hey, don’t you dare leave me. You just look at me. Keep looking at me, okay?” I spoke to him and he tried but it was like something stronger was pulling him away.

“What is your name?” I asked to distract him. He frowned.

“What is your name, buddy?” I asked again his brow creased with concentration.

“P-Paul.” He almost whispered and I smiled reassuringly.

“Paul? I’m Kate. Hang in there, big guy. I can hear the sirens.” I told him. He was sleepy now and his eyes fluttered shut. When they did a cold fear rested on me. I had never, in my life, seen someone die and I wasn’t planning on doing so now.

“No! No you don’t. Wake up. Wake up, Paul!” I almost yelled at him and I was shaking him harder than I planned. His brown eyes flew open and he looked at me confused.

“There you go. You just keep those eyes on me. Right here.” I told him and he did, but his breathing was coming in shallow, ragged gasps and it scared me. I glanced around me again and was shocked by how quiet the street still was. Of course, who really walked around in Brooklyn at two o’clock in the morning?

My hands were still pressed tightly to the now b****y sweater. I was shaking, either from the shock, or from sleep-deprivation. My panicked gaze was still scanning my surroundings when I felt his hand on mine. I looked down and found him staring at me. I removed my one hand from his grip and covered his again. Memories flooded back to me of a similar situation many years ago, but back then I was the one at death’s door. I was the one who was scared and confused and there was no one to comfort me. I refused to let the same thing happen to this man.

“I know you’re scared and nothing makes sense. But everything will be okay…” I kept reassuring him, even though I was scared out of my mind, terrified that he will just fade away without warning.

We sat like that for what felt like hours, but it was only mere minutes before an ambulance screeched to a halt not three feet from us.

Two paramedics materialized in seconds, one of them was pulling me from the bleeding stranger and the other was focusing on him. At first I fought against the idiotic paramedic for removing me so forcefully.

“Where are you injured, miss?” He asked and I frowned at him.

“What?”

“Will you please sit down and let me examine you?” He asked. His question confused me but then I followed his gaze. My clothes was covered in blood. I looked up at the paramedic again.

“It’s not my blood. It’s his.” I motioned over my shoulder and he looked at me cautiously, as if he didn’t believe me.

“It was a hit and run, I witnessed it.” I explained and he nodded before hurrying to his friend’s side. They conversed in precise tones and I stood around idly for a while. A few moments later a police patrol car pulled up. Clearly it was the graveyard shift, because there was only one occupant and he silenced the siren, but left the lights flashing, before he got out. He spoke a few words to the paramedics who were just strapping Paul to a stretcher. I was scared to look at him - scared that when I did, he would be dead.

“Excuse me, miss?” The officer asked me my head jerked up.

“Uh…yes, officer?” I sounded hesitant, but in reality I was just freaked out by everything that had happened.

“You’re the witness?” He asked and I nodded. He pulled out a notebook in a leather cover and I wanted to laugh at the image. He looked like a cop out of a mafia movie.

The ambulance doors were being closed. I stared at it with a deep frown.

“Are you sure you don’t need medical attention?” The policeman asked and I shook my head and swallowed hard at the lump in my throat.

“Can you tell me what happened?” He asked and focused on his notepad with his pen, ready to scribble. I sighed before telling him everything that I saw. While I spoke, the ambulance sped off with wailing sirens and flashing red lights. I sent up a silent prayer for the injured man.

“Okay, so…this is what I got. A dark sedan swung around that corner-“ he motioned with his hand “-and hit the man there-“ he pointed in that direction “-and then the car sped off down that way?” He questioned while motioning down the street. I nodded again. I was not feeling well and I feared that if I passed out here I would be taken to hospital. That was not something I wanted. I kind of had a little phobia of hospitals since my accident and the months spent within the white walls of one.

“Did you see any plates?” He asked. I looked around uncomfortably.

“No, I’m sorry.” How could I explain to him that my eyes were constantly blurred? It had been that way for so long that I was used to it. It was one of the reasons I didn’t drive. However, I did feel angry with myself for not paying more attention.

“That’s okay....is there anything else?” He asked and I frowned with concentration.

“The car was swaying…as if the driver was drunk. I’m sorry, that is all I know.” I was almost ‘swaying’ on my feet, but luckily he was not the most attentive police officer.

“I’m suppose to take your name and details.” He mentioned and I sighed despondently.

“Officer Murray, is it?” He nodded. “Can I go home now? I just want to…go home.” He nodded vigorously.

“I suppose that’ll be alright. It’s not like you committed a crime. Can I give you a ride home?” He asked politely and I shook my head.

“Thank you, but no. I’ll be okay.”

I said goodbye and almost ran off. The walk home seemed endless and at some point I wished I had taken the officer up on his offer for a lift. But I made it.

I was overwhelmed with relief when I closed my front door behind me. If anything happened to me now, I was cocooned in my little haven. I was safe. And so I ended up in the bathroom for the third time that day. I opted for a quick shower this time and dumped my b****y clothes in the bath tub, to take care of later. And for what felt like the millionth time, I crawled into bed and shut my eyes tightly.

But sleep didn’t come that night and for the first time in years it was not because of my insomnia. Instead, I was assaulted by nightmarish images of the events that occurred earlier. The moment of impact kept replaying in my head. Every time I reached the injured stranger he seemed worse off. I could never reach him fast enough. My feet felt heavy and when I did reach him; my hands were clumsy as I fumbled with a sweater that disintegrated before my very eyes.

If I managed twenty minutes of sleep that night, it was a lot. At seven AM I called in sick. It was one thing to pretend I was okay when I was tired to the bone, but that morning I was bordering catatonic. I decided that it was high time for my fail safe.

When my insomnia did not ‘clear up on its own’ after months of treatments and lifestyle-alterations, my parents, doctors and everybody else involved had a meeting (I was not invited). In that meeting, my life was discussed, analyzed and consequently altered again. Many decisions were made, but one specific decision was that I was to cut back on sleeping medication, since I was living off it at the time. In the years that followed I had managed to cut it almost completely from my life but every now and then I grasped at it, my fail safe.

Thanks to my mysterious stranger I was so tired that the medication was almost unnecessary, but I took it anyway. At nine o’clock I was out like a light.