Well, the usual drill with the disclaimers on the characters and that Mona is Betsy Haynes' character, not this authors. So, here's more...

Edge of Darkness

By: CNJ

PG-13

6: April 2023

Stacey:

I threw the pillowcase of dirty clothes down the chute. Spring break had finally arrived. Mary Anne, along with Tam and Alma, were spending the spring break with us. They were on their way and judging by the time, due any minute.

"Do you think Mary Anne and her girls are feeling better?" Syrie asked.

"I think..." I thought a minute. "They're like us...some days are better for them than others."

It was certainly true of us. Bit by bit, we were picking up the pieces of our lives and putting it back together, but it was a slow process. Some nights I woke up, feeling a strange, dizzying sensation come over me. The house still sometimes felt strange, but bit by bit, we were going on with our daily routines.

"Are things going to ever feel good again?" Syrie asked, leaning on me. I often wondered that myself.

"I think they eventually will, sweetheart," I reassured her. "It just takes time. We both still have a lot of feelings to work out and I'm sure Mary Anne and her girls do too."

Syrie peered up at me, then nodded slowly. Oh, she was so trusting. I'd heard that before, that things do get better after a mourning period, but sometimes the mourning seemed to last forever and the tangle of feelings seemed to be an endless mass of crossed wires and scrambled computer programs to unravel.

I heard a car door close and knew Mary Anne had arrived.

"Here she is..." Syrie told me and we headed outside.

"Oh...Stacey...Syrie!" Mary Anne reached out to hug me and her mouth drooped as she burst into tears.

That got me started and we cried in each others' arms as we hugged. Oh, it was so good to hug one of my dearest friends, to feel her warmth radiating through me. Our girls also hugged and as we went into the house, Mary Anne looked at me, concern smoldering in her deep brown eyes, even though they were still full of tears and I could see that she was still in a lot of pain from her own ordeal.

Once we got inside, the still-remaining tears spilled down Mary Anne's face and I grabbed some tissues for her. She cried some more into her tissue, then we headed into the kitchen, where I had tea.

"It's so good to see you," Mary Anne's quivered. The girls slowly sat with us and I poured them some fruit punch. "Just seeing you make me feel more alive than I have in a long time."

"Alive..?" I asked.

"Some days, Stace, I feel a deep void inside of me," Mary Anne continued. "And my nightmares still haven't gotten better. "I'm scared, I'm so scared..."

I could see that she was going through a lot. She had circles under her eyes and her eyes seemed so troubled.

"I go through days where I'm like a robot, but can't stop crying at night, especially after a nightmare. I'm glad my girls and I are able to go through the day to day stuff." She looked over at her daughters, her thick brows slanting in worry, small worry lines showing through her bangs.

"Oh, Mary Anne, I'm so sorry..." I stroked her hand. "You'll make it through. You're one of the strongest people I know." Tamara's eyes welled up also and she reached over and hugged her mother.

"My girls have been great," Mary Anne whispered, stroking Alma too. "Stace...how've you been holding up this week?" We'd kept in touch every few days by e-mail. "You've gone through some rocky times lately too." She could tell. I have been at times.

"With me, it's memory lapses," I said. "And like you, I have crying spells. The other day at work, somebody made a joke, but it made me cry."

"Oh, God..." Mary Anne's brows slanted again. "I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, we've gone though our down times...it'll get better, Mary Anne," I held her soft hand. "It will, believe me." Mary Anne clutched my hand and seemed to be trying to believe it."

"What really hurts the most is seeing my girls in so much pain," Mary Anne took another sip of tea.

We continued talking long after our girls went upstairs to play a game. "Alma's had a few nightmares too and Tam's been feeling that numb void sometimes too," Mary Anne told me.

"It's similar with my daughter...both of us feel so strange as if we were in a clone of our house, but not really our house. It'll get better. Don't forget all the rocky times we've survived in the past."

"Yeah. Not only us, but our friends," Mary Anne nodded. We both looked at each other, thinking of Mona and Abby, two of our BSC friends who'd suffered losses early in life.

Mary Anne:

It was good seeing Stacey again, I reflected as I got into bed that night. I'd made sure my girls were comfortable, then settled into my own bed with a book before drifting off to sleep...

Flames were all around me. I searched frantically for survivors, but only saw dead bodies. I screamed for somebody to help, but I was trapped on that high mountaintop, me being the only one alive. I ran down the hill, searching for help, but saw flames EVERYWHERE! My heart pounded and I kept running until I'd reached the bottom of the hill. But the whole city was on fire! Screams erupted from the flames and an awful choking sensation blocked my throat. Bodies lurched from the flames and I let out a strangled noise that managed to squeeze through the invisible vise on my throat...

Finally screams erupted from me and I was in Stacey's guest bedroom. The light flashed on and Stacey came running into the room, her dark blue eyes wide in alarm. The light was yellow! I kept screaming in terror, begging Stacey to turn on the desk lamp to get rid of the awful yellow.

"Please, please, I can't stand it!" I screamed. "Please, I'm afraid of the yellow haze!" I screamed again and started to dash out of the room.

Stacey apparently understood what was making me so terrified because she turned on the desk lamp and turned off the yellow bedside lamp. I fell back onto the bed and started to cry, partly in fear, partly in pain. Stacey hugged me and we rocked back and forth for a long time.

"I'm...s-s-sorry," I sobbed. "It was the inside of the plane that looked so g-ghastly yellow before...Owen...d-died!" My voice sounded like a high squeak now.

"I know, I know..." Stacey started to cry too and we sobbed.

I really don't know how long we cried, really. Maybe it was a couple of hours. I slowly felt a bit calmer, more rational.

"I'm...sorry I scared you," I shakily wiped my eyes.

"I understand," Stacey got out tissues for both of us. "I know the pain. Maybe not the plane crash or being widowed, but I have an idea of the loss you must be suffering."

"Hey, S-Stace...you can also t-talk to be about...your son," I told her. "I've never lost a kid, but I can imagine your pain too."

"Thanks." We sat for a minute longer, then after Stacey headed back to bed, I read a while longer. I kept the lamp on the rest of the night and made a mental note to see the counselor when we got back home.