Like A Stone
Heather stood just inside the front door of her house. When she felt the cigarette between her lips, she inhaled deeply and invited the sweet toxins into her lungs. She pulled back a small section of the mini-blinds to allow herself a view of the street. All she knew for certain was that she was waiting for someone.
She had been plunged into the deepest part of a dream and thought she may as well have snorted a fat line because she was more aware of her own thoughts than she had ever been in her life. Being so in tune was a feeling that was alien to her. Awareness was a gift she had once been blessed with and had somehow lost. Heather missed it dearly.
She glanced around the room with trepidation. She was in her own living room but the furniture looked different. Chairs and lamps sat in the wrong places and the walls were decorated differently than in real life. It reminded her of Sandra’s statement about things appearing different in the dream and she was afraid to go further into the house.
Candles were lit and had been scattered throughout the house. When Heather looked down, she realized she was dressed in lingerie. Her sheer pink top offered more cleavage than not and a blood red t-back told her that she expected sex and soon. Heather knew there could only be one co-star to such a seductive scene and she wasn’t at all surprised. When she had willed the stalker into her dream, Heather pretty much assumed it would be Billy who showed up.
She peeked outside in search of a black truck but the street was quiet and still. Heather walked slowly toward the kitchen as she took a long drag from her cigarette. She realized she was wearing stilettos when she tripped with her first step and almost fell through a glass coffee table. She grabbed onto the edge of her entertainment center just in time and straightened herself out.
Heather walked over to the counters and pressed her hands flat against the cold tile. Memories of Billy shot themselves into her awareness and she didn’t fight it. She knew it was time to face him. It was time to face all of the decisions she had made. It was the moment she had been waiting for her entire life. Heather looked up at the wall and stared blankly at the clock. It was 11:11 and by the daylight shining through the blinds, she knew it was still morning.
Heather stared at the dining room table and thought of the things he’d done to her there. She remembered how he had instructed her to remember that night while she was cooking dinner. She turned her attention toward the hallway and tried to rally what courage she had left. She realized she only had enough for two steps when she stopped abruptly at the scraping noises coming from the bedroom. She listened closely to the silence that followed before braving a few more steps down the hallway and ducking into the bathroom.
Heather closed the door and looked around the small room. She stood before the mirror that carried her deepest secrets and focused on the eyes that stared back. Gradually, her image faded and a little girl appeared. It was still Heather’s reflection but it didn’t reflect the woman she was. The eyes that stared were those of a nine year old. Both love and terror tied the race for lead emotion.
“Can you hear me?” asked her child self. Her whisper was soft and it had the tinny pitch of a child. Hearing herself speak made Heather want