Shadowed Dreams & Rippled Water

When Nightmares Are Real

Four

When Nightmares Are Real

The trip to my bedroom lasted long enough for me to grab the music folder and dash out the door again. I didn’t even attempt to try and understand what had happened. I was not the type of girl who enjoyed anything spooky. Dean and Kane were gone by the time I returned to the kitchen. I picked up the glass I had left on the table and headed for the piano.

As I paced the room, running my fingers over the smooth wooden lid, my mind replayed what had happened upstairs. Was it Kane? Dean didn’t seem to think it was, and neither did I. Was it a dream? Am I still asleep? No, my knee was still sore. I pinched my arm, and that stung, so I knew I was awake.

“No!” Mum screamed. The agony in her cry was crippling. “No…”

“Mum!” I gasped and turned around. Her painful cries were coming from the living room. “Mum, what happened?” I called as I ran down the hallway and into the living room.

When she saw me, Mum’s eyes widened, and tears rained down her cheeks. My heart sank. I had never seen her this way before. Her mouth hung open in a frozen, mournful cry as she dropped her phone and fumbled between the couches, feeling her way until she collapsed by Dad’s recliner and howled.

“Mum!” I cried, hurrying to her side. “Mum, what happened?”

Her lips moved, but only sobs came out.

“Mum…?”

A thunder of footsteps echoed through the house as Dean and Dylan entered the living room.

“Mum?” Dean asked as he hurdled over a couch, as graceful as any athlete and landed beside her. “Mum, what happened? What’s wrong?”

“It’s your Dad – It’s Michael…” She managed to say between sobs, glancing at each of us with a long, agonising stare. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her unusually tanned face was sickly pale. “Your Dad, he’s – he’s… oh god…” she swallowed back tears and reached for Dean, pulling him closer. “I can’t believe it, there’s been an accident… Your dad… he’s dead!”

“What...!” Dylan roared. “No! Not Dad…!” Shaking his head, he removed his cap. “No! It’s not possible…”

I couldn’t move. A strange ringing sound echoed in my ears. Dad was dead? But that was impossible! He couldn’t be… not Dad!

Dean’s eyes darkened, and his shoulders stiffened. “How...?”

“The ferry collapsed…” Mum wailed, burying her face in her hands. “They pulled him out, but... it… it was…. Oh God, my husband’s gone!”

A probing silence fell over the entire house. I stared, unblinking, at the room. Ferry? Drowning? My dream! Suddenly, my body grew heavy, weighed down by some invisible dark force. I crumpled to my knees and cried.

Kane appeared in the living room archway, brushing his white-blonde fringe from his rosy cheeks. He glanced around the room and paused, his smile wavering. “What’s wrong? What did I miss?” He tilted his head to the side, studying the room. “What’s going on?”

“There’s been an accident,” Mum wailed in a way that made me shudder.

Kane’s face darkened. He hurried into the room and knelt beside Dean. “What accident? Who’s hurt? Is it Stacey?” he studied the room again, then faced Dean. “Oh, f**k, is it Dad?”

Dean cleared his throat, fighting back the tears. “Kane, it’s Dad…”

Kane’s blue eyes grew cold, and his voice deepened. “Is he okay?”

“No!” Mum whimpered in a tiny whisper. “That was the police on the phone… your father… he died!”

“What!” Kane explained, backing away, the shock of the news crippling him.

“Sargent Robert will be here to pick me up...” Mum cried, clenching and unclenching her hands. “I-I need to go down to the hospital to view his...” She clumsily found her feet, clinging to Dad’s chair and Dean for support, “They need me to view his body…”

“Maybe it’s not him,” Kane sniffled as he stood beside Mum, helping Dean steady her. “Maybe they got the wrong person…”

“It was him,” Mum sniffled, lifting her head and gesturing to her phone on the floor by the wall. Tears trailed her puffy, crimson cheeks. “He had his ID on him, and everyone knows Michael… there’s no mistake... It was him...”

Kane picked up Mum’s phone and sat it on the back of the couch. “I want to go with you …” he pleaded with a sob. “I have to…”

I wanted to hug Mum and never let go, but I couldn’t move. Every bone, every muscle in my body throbbed in protest.

Mum’s eyes scanned the room before lingering on me. The pain in them was so crippling that I trembled and hugged myself. I knew what she was thinking. It was my dream! It had been the same as the dream that had haunted me nightly for weeks. Dad had died the way I had dreamt it. I had dreamt of his death!

She stumbled in my direction and collapsed before me, her trembling hands grasping my legs. “He’s gone, Lucy… It happened like you said it would… the way you saw it… like your dream…”

“No, no, this can’t be happening…” Closing my eyes, I willed back my tears. The dream came rushing back in a wave of horror. I saw the wire snap under the ferry… I saw the ferry sink, taking cars with it… I saw Dad climb out and save a little girl, then jump into the dangerous water to save a man. There was an undertone, and he was gone. No! My head began to pound as the nightmare repeated. The voices of pain—the blood-curdling screams for help… and Dad’s last dying breath… “But it was only a dream!”

Dean and Kane hoisted Mum to her feet and held her. Dylan continued to pace the floor, wringing his cap between his hands. I couldn’t move. I was numb.

“Dean, can you call Aunty Valery?” Mum said, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. “I-I need someone to take Stacey to childcare. I can’t take a five-year-old to the hospital in this state.”

“I’ll call Valery now and organise something for Stacey,” Dean sniffled. His voice was almost non-existent. Wiping his eyes, he took Mum’s phone and vanished through the lounge room archway.

Dylan paced again, then paused and glowered at me. His eyes were sharp and deadly. He mumbled something under his breath as he wrung his cap between his hands.

A sinking stone dropped into my stomach. I had seen Dad’s death, but I couldn’t stop it. Why couldn’t I stop it? Sniffing back tears, I turned away from Dylan and faced Mum.

She cradled her head in her hands and cried. “Oh, Michael.”

Kane’s body shuddered as he wrapped his arms around Mum. “It feels surreal, like a nightmare I can’t wake from.”

“It is real!” Dylan roared, slamming his fist against the wall and knocking a chain of photographs. All of us jumped. “Dad’s dead, or didn’t you hear what Mum said? He drowned... all ‘cause of Lucy’s stupid dream! All ‘cause he had to be a hero! It’s Lucy’s fault!”

“What!” I gasped, hugging myself. “I didn’t tell him to do anything! It was just a dream…”

His eyes darted to me. I recoiled from the pure venom in them. “He’s gone, and now there’s nothing, I repeat… nothing in this f****d up world anyone can do about it!”

With a grunt, he sprinted upstairs, slamming his bedroom door behind him, making the glasses in the kitchen cupboard rattle.

I held my knees to my chest, my heart trembling. Was it my fault?

“No…” Mum wailed.

Kane staggered to his feet and pointed a trembling hand behind him. “I’ll get Stacey ready...” He marched up the stairs, desperately clinging to the staircase rails with each step. The second he was alone, I knew he would break down.

Dean came into view, tears staining his cheeks. He grasped Mum’s shoulders and held her before him. “Valery’s on her way. I also rang Stacey’s childcare and explained the situation. Ranny will look after her until five, and longer if you need her to. I’ll call work and let Alastor know what happened, then drop Stacey off.”

“Thank you.” Mum stumbled towards the hallway, using the wall for balance. “I have a few things I need to do before I go.”

Once she was out of the room, I exploded into a bawling mess. “Dad, why...? It hurts so badly.”

I closed my eyes. I could see Dad’s comforting smile. I could hear his kind voice. I could hear the homely sound of the electric saw in the back shed as Dad worked away, with the twins waiting on his every instruction. The scent of sawdust and wood stuck to his memories as it had done to his clothes.

“Make it go away.” I opened my eyes to see Dean kneeling on the floor before me.

He leant his forehead against mine. Even in pain, his eyes were bright. “I know it hurts—I’m hurting too.”

“It’s all my fault!” I sniffled, taking a skipped breath. “I’m the one who dreamed about it… And then it came true. Dylan’s right! It’s my fault!”

“Don’t listen to Dylan,” he whispered, wiping a tear from my cheek. It’s not your fault. Nothing could have changed. Dad would still have gone to work... It’s not your fault.”

“It feels like it is.”

He raised a shaking hand and cupped my chin. “We’ll get through this. We have each other, and we can stay strong and be there for Mum.”

“Why did this happen? Why ...? It’s not fair!”