Fix Me

“Good. Relax your toes. Imagine you are sliding into a hot bath. Flex every muscle and then relax it. Calves. Thighs. Fingers. Arms. Neck. Face.” His voice grew quieter with each word.

I could feel my body sinking into the imaginary bath. My muscles relaxed slowly one by one. I could hear his quiet breathing behind me. It was oddly soothing. I focused on his breathing until I felt myself slipping into the peaceful oblivion I craved.

The peacefulness was short lived.

“Luke can’t we go to the museum?” I said with frustration.

His back was to me and it was making me crazy. He promised a trip to the art museum and now he wanted to go golfing. Golfing! Who golfed!

“Just one trip around the course,” he answered, still not looking at me.

I stomped a foot. “Fine. One trip and then we go to the museum. That new artist I told you about is being featured. It’s a big deal.”

He finally turned to look at me. I bit back a yelp. It wasn’t Luke. It was Nate. I shook my head, trying to see Luke. He took my hand in his and I knew it was Luke, but it was Nate’s face. Nate’s face on Luke’s body.

“Let’s go,” he said, leading me across a parking lot. He pushed the button the key fob, the sound echoing in my head.

“You’ll like the artist,” I started to tell him.

He opened the car door. My car. “We’ll see. Get in.”

I shook my head, fighting back panic. “No. No. I can’t.”

“Bree get in the car,” he growled.

“I can’t. No.”

“Bree, get in the car. We’re late.”

I stared at my car. I loved my car. The car that I had almost died in. I couldn’t get in the car. I had a sense of doom. I began to violently shake. There was a scream locked in my throat. Terror tore through me. “No,” I tried to say, but the words were stuck in my throat.

“Bree, it’s okay,” I heard Luke say.

I turned to look into Nate’s eyes. “No,” I tried to say again.

“Bree.”

“No!” I screamed, finally finding my voice.

I was suddenly awake. The car was gone. I was awake and back in my dark prison. My heart was pounding in my chest. I nearly jumped off the bed when I felt a hand on my arm. “Bree, it’s me. It’s Luke. You’re okay.”

I struggled to catch my breath. “I’m okay,” I whispered.

“You were having a nightmare,” he soothed.

“How long was I asleep?”

“Not even an hour. Do you want to talk about the dream?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“They say if you talk about a recurring nightmare, it won’t come back.”

I wasn’t going to tell him I was dreaming about him. Especially since it wasn’t him, but Nate I saw. I was sure I saw Nate because I couldn’t see Luke. I had no idea what Luke looked like. “It was silly. It made no sense.”

“Dreams rarely do.”

“It was my car,” I blurted out. “I was getting into my old car. I didn’t want to get in. It was like I knew what was going to happen. Is it weird I have sight in my dreams?”