And I would be the one to hold you down
Kiss you so hard, I'll take your breath away
And after I'd wipe away the tears
Just close your eyes, dear.
-Sarah McLachlan, "Possession"
Lewis opens the manila file and thumbs through the papers. "Well Detective Benson, I'm glad to see you've made significant progress despite your horrifying ordeal. It appears that you've had a real breakthrough," he mocks her in his best "shrink" voice. He slinks toward her, and leans in, his scalding breath inches away from her face, as the stench assaults her nostrils. "Unfortunately, this will be our last session," he taunts. He looks over at Dr. Lindstrom cowering in the corner. He runs his gun up her jawline and caresses her cheek with its muzzle before striking the side of her face. He plants the gun under her chin, "But at least you won't die alone." The last thing she hears is the gun exploding.
"No!" Her body jolts upright, and she gulps air into her lungs. For the past two days, she's awakened to her nails tearing at her pillow and sweat clinging to her brow. Her throat burns with a mixture of fear and hatred, and for a few moments, her dream world bleeds into the real one. Her vision comes into focus, and she reaches for Brian, forgetting that he's already at work. She shakes off the last remnants of her nightmare and looks down at the mangled pillow; its feathery guts are strewn across the sheets.
She walks to her bedroom window and pulls back the curtains. She looks across 7th Ave. and watches as hipsters clutch their over-priced coffees and trudge against the stinging cold. Women, draped from head to toe in fur, glide past them walking tiny dogs on bejeweled leashes. She can't help but to laugh at the absurdity of it all. The city streets were filled with countless absurdities.
But at least the real world wasn't as scary as the one that held her hostage every night...inside her head.
More to come...