I open my eyes.
The view is as clear as ice through the body-size window. Scattered orange colored trees, with their painted-on leaves still hanging from their branches. They wave smoothly in the wind towards the rough drying leaves that lie on the field of grass below them. No buildings surround this house, just the calm sound of nothing in the air. Just silence.
“Christy,” I hear from behind.
I watch as Matt walks down the stairs. He is wearing an iron-pressed soft powder blue police uniform with his muscles showing enough to make the girls crazy at a pop concert. Gold buttons peek near the collar of his shirt leaving the rest hidden behind his black vest.
Each step fills my petite stomach full of nerves. My mouth is too astonished by his presence to form a word. His shined shoe reaches the last step and my heart sinks into a pool of butterflies because from what I could remember we haven’t spoken for three years, yet, Matt is standing right there in front of me.
“It’s the uniform, isn’t it? I thought I put this on properly,” Matt adjusts his pants waist. The holster hung naked on the side of his hip. I hadn’t realized the amount of things officers had to carry on their belt. “Compliments of my dad. As if being the son of the chief wasn’t already awkward,” He sighs.
I continue to stare, this time searching for the right words to say. “It looks great on you.”
Matt stretches his arm past me, gently brushing his arm against mine as he lifted the camera off the island counter. He hands it over to me. “Don’t worry, I remembered that you wanted to take my picture on my first day of work,” He says fixing his brown, rich college student hair before posing by the window. “Take it before I change my mind.”
“When did I tell you that?” I press the button on the camera.
He laughs. His laugh is soft but controlled. “Don’t act like you don’t know, spending all last night discussing it at our celebration dinner,” He says wrapping his arms around my shoulders.
Matt’s warm hands move lower down, poking at my sides and sending electric tingles through my body causing me to laugh. “Stop before I drop your camera,” I say as I place the camera back down.
Matt releases and gently re-navigates his hands to mine. His brown eyes look lovingly at me as he intertwines his fingers into mine. “You mean our camera, Mrs. Morrison,” He leans in, our lips meeting as if it was for the first time. It triggers little sparks of fireworks into my stomach then he slowly pulls away like a paused note in a song leaving me anticipating more.
It takes me a moment to regain myself. “We’re married?”
“Very funny, I didn’t give you that diamond ring for comments like that,” He smiles.
I glance down at my left hand and raise my hand up past my face in disbelief. A thin band sits on my finger holding a crystal clear diamond in its grasp.
“What’s gotten into you this morning?” he asks. Before I could get a chance to answer Matt looks to his watch, “I am going to be late if I don’t leave right now.”
He picks up his black duffle bag and tosses it over his shoulder before giving me another kiss. “Have a great day babe. Oh, and try not to burn dinner tonight,” He laughs as he opens the front door.
Clearly, he knows me more than I give him credit for because I have a long history of burnt meat, burnt pasta, and burnt French fries. Yes, sadly, I have found a way to burn that too. The only thing I never seem to burn is cakes and cupcakes.
As I stand by the front door, I notice an envelope with the word ‘DREAM’ on it lying on the cement steps. Matt picks it up and hands it over to me before closing the door behind him. I rip open the envelope and open the folded piece of paper. There are only three words… ‘You Know Me.’
Tiled floors turn into grass tickling in between my toes. Beautiful trees tower over me and colorful flowers carpet the ground. The little girl in me springs up, with bright wide eyes being amazed by everything around me.
“You know me,”
Only that voice. That man’s voice that lingers, that seems to be blowing amongst the wind repeating the words ‘You know me’ in my ears. I can feel the tension of the wind blowing alongside my hair and the fallen fall colored leaves lightly brushing past my body.
In one blink, my surroundings change. My shoes solid on the pavement of this abandoned building. Shadows paint the walls. Hiding mysteries around every corner. Constant dripping sounds from the old rusted pipes echo. Birds play hide and seek in this place they now make their home.
A dark silhouette of a man appears, capturing my attention. He disappears. My legs start the motion of running before I do. Running towards the area where I saw him, not knowing why or what’s the point. I could feel my heart pounding out of my chest and tightening up with each motion. I stop. Breathe.
The silhouette reappears, closer to me this time. He begins to walk towards me. Each step he takes I see a little more of the actual person, a little more of his black jeans, his red sweater. He stands in front of me yet I can’t see his face. I move closer, but he takes a step back the second I do. I shouldn’t have been so eager.
I freeze my foot where it is and try to brush away the nerves that were developing with a short deep breath. My hands tremble and it is not long before my voice mimics the motion of my hands, “Are you him?”
A beeping sound echoes through the place. I am running out of time. I needed more than a few seconds to find out who he is. “Are you the one sending me these letters, these dreams?” I ask. Holding on to those few precious seconds in my anxious clenched hands. Say it now. You have time. Say it now.
My alarm clock pulls me like a thick rope tied around my waist and in one tug, I am quickly pulled with my arms and legs shooting forward imitating a contemporary dancer. Hauled out from a black hole, pulled out from the dark and back into the light. My light. My reality.
“NO!” I scream, thrusting myself up from my bed.
My alarm clock gleams, flashing the time nine o’clock. I sprint out of bed and head to my front door. An envelope lies on the welcome mat as it always did. It nearly gives me a paper cut from me trying to open it so fast. I unfold the letter and it’s blank. It is never blank.
Dreams are a world away from our world. A place to get away from this life that can either be good or bad. This life that is always unexpected, always strapping us in a roller coaster of emotions and events. Filling our minds with picture perfect memories or past we want to cherish or forget. Dreams can be an escape. A vacation away from the traffic lights, 5 o’clock rush hour on the streets and on the subways. It’s a getaway we all have experienced.
My dreams have always been arranged for me for as long as I can remember. It is as if an author has written them just for my benefit. I don’t know who writes me my dreams, but every day at 9am, a snow white envelope slides underneath my apartment door with the word ‘DREAM’ on it. And each time, whatever I read on that piece of paper is what I see in my dream that night.
There have been countless times I have tried to see, try to get a glimpse of who this person sending me these letters might be but every time no one is there. Only the hallway filled with loud college students who are hung over, flirting, gossiping, sleeping or studying. I like to image James Bond is sending me letters and his mission is sending me dreams every morning but I know that it is almost impossible.
It’s not that these dreams are always positive or negative, but it always has a lesson for me to learn or a message for me to remember in life. Today’s dream I received is different. It arrived in the same way, except this time its blank. No words. No pictures. Not even a dot of ink rest on this paper. I have no clue of what or how or where my dream would be. I had nothing to sleep on for once. Weird.
You know when you’re used to something happening and then it’s suddenly gone? Like some TV shows, they premiere, you start getting into the story line and look forward to it every week until one day it’s gone. Cancelled. That hot steamy doctor or spy or love interest that you have been drooling over and haven’t stopped blabbering about all week is no longer waiting for you every Thursday night. It’s like that, but add having your internet, cable and cell phone being removed into the mix and you now arrived at the destination of how I am feeling at the moment.
I know that sounds a little overdramatic, you can safely say that you think that I am crazy. I even thought I was going crazy until it kept happening over again. It went from a coincidence to my normal routine. Not everyone gets a story of their dream written out for them and gets to see the movie version the same night. This is my treat, something that I look forward to. My tea before bed.