Contempt of a Great Man (Part 7)

I can’t remember what I did after I entered my house. I just know that somehow I ended up sprawled on my bed, sleeping for three days. I wish now that I had stayed awake, for my dreams were much more frightening than reality.

A dream in particular that I can remember began with a little girl coloring a picture. The picture was of a woman dressed in all black with tears falling from her eyes. There was lettering above the woman, but each letter was blurred and I was unable to read what was written. The little girl stopped coloring and stood up from where she was sitting. She had on a baseball t-shirt and basketball shorts. The girl grabbed the picture and started to walk towards a brown door at the other side of the room.

The little girl opened the door just as a shot was fired. She stood in the middle of the doorway, staring straight out in front of her. My dream self walked to where the little girl was standing. When I arrived at the door, I looked over the little girl’s head and saw blood splattered across a pure white bed. I slid past the girl and walked slowly into the room. Lying on the bed was a woman dressed in all black. I walked cautiously over to her still body and knelt down next to where she was lying. Her hair was covering her face, preventing me from seeing who the woman was.

A moment later, I heard the sound of footsteps coming from somewhere behind me. I turned around to see John Holden standing behind the little girl. He gazed into the room and quickly pushed the little girl away from the doorway as he moved into the room. He knelt down next to the woman, only inches away from where I was kneeling. I stood up as he put his head down next to the woman’s.

Suddenly, he shot his head around to look at the little girl. She was still standing near the door, but now she was rubbing her arm and crying.

“Are you brain dead?” He yelled at the little girl as she was looking down at the ground, “Call 911!”

The little girl ran from the doorway as John turned his head back towards the woman’s body. He bent his head down and began to sob. He brought his hands up from where they were lying on the bed and he covered his face. A loud scream came from somewhere deep inside him as he smacked his hand down on the bed.

Unexpectedly, a doorbell rang from a far away distance. I looked up from John and towards the doorway. The doorbell rang again and this time I realized that it was not happening in my dream, but it was actually happening in reality. Consciousness began to creep into my dream world and the view of the room with John Holden, the dead woman, and the little girl soon disappeared.

I opened my eyes just as the doorbell rang for the third time. I rubbed my eyes and then slowly rolled my body across the bed. I had to push my legs off from the side of the bed with my arms because evidently my legs didn’t know how to function at that moment. My feet hit the floor and I painfully pushed my torso up and into a sitting position. Bouncing my legs up and down, I eventually began to get feeling in them again.

The doorbell rang again and I gradually lifted my body up and off of the bed. My legs felt wobbly as I walked towards the front door. I don’t know if it is the same for everyone, but I personally know that sleeping for three entire days has some major side effects. A side effect that I had not thought of was the fact that my job was probably not waiting for me. I was suppose to work all three days that I had been sleeping. When I passed my answering machine, I noticed that I had 8 voice messages, all probably from my editor and none from my cousin.

I finally reached the front door and waited for a moment before opening it. I was not born a paranoid person, but from what had happened three nights prior, I had quickly become one. I gazed over at my purse lying on the floor next to a small table; I must have just thrown it there when I had entered the house. Kneeling down next to my purse, I opened it and rifled through it until I found the pepper spray that had been given to me by one of my aunts when she heard that I was going to work in New York City. She told me that New York City isn’t like Iowa and that you can’t just rely on people to be naturally good there. I dismissed what she had said, but now, after everything, I realize that she was right.

After grabbing the pepper spray, I stood up and gradually walked towards the door until I was about a foot away from it. My door didn’t have any sort of peephole or anything so I couldn’t see who was on the other side of it. I did have a window located near the front door, but I realized that if I looked out, the person would have seen me. I knew that I had only one way of finding out who was on the other side of the door, and that was just to open it. So, I took a deep breath and slowly twisted the door handle.