Not So Sweet Dreams
I sleep dreamlessly for a good portion of the night, but then that is made up for with a return of the dream of Lyle.
In the midst of the dream, I wake up to realize that there is a real hand holding my shoulder. I come awake in an instant and lash out at the stranger. At the same time, I'm taking in the shadows of the dark room--where am I??
"Easy, Jarod," comes a calm voice. "It was just a dream, you're safe now." Finally, I remember: I'm not at the Centre, I left yesterday. I'm at Max's house. I relax. Slowly my panicked breathing subsides.
"That was quite a nightmare--your scream woke me upstairs," Max comments finally.
"Lyle."
"But it's over now.. he can't hurt you ever again."
"All I have to worry about is him coming to visit my dreams," I reply sarcastically.
"You can wake up from a dream," he reminds me. I sit up, sighing. "Would you like something to help you sleep?"
I shake my head. "I think I'm done with sleeping for tonight."
Max looks at his watch and frowns. "I'm going to go make some tea," he sighs. He moves toward the kitchen and I stand to follow. "Just wait here, Jarod," he protests. "You're my guest."
I ignore him, appearing in the kitchen just after him. He jumps when he sees me. "Oh!" He mock glares at me. "Didn't I tell you to wait?"
"Did I ever tell you I don't follow directions very well?" I grin.
I watch him quietly as he puts the kettle on to boil, then prepares the tea packets in mugs. Without being aware of it, I am staring at the kettle, waiting for the whistle that will signal that it is boiling.
"Tsk tsk, Jarod. A watched pot never boils." I look at him curiously. He shrugs. "Try it. It feels like it takes forever." I turn back to the kettle, my curiousity now sparked. He laughs.
He's right; it does seem to take a while. Finally, it begins to whistle and I look to Max triumphantly; he shakes his head incredulously. "Only you, Jarod."
He takes the kettle off the stove and pours water into both cups. I see the tea leaves color the water, the flavor spreading. Then he removes the packets and begins to sprinkle something into my cup.
"What's that?" My voice sounds more suspicious than I had intended.
He looks at me, surprised. "Sugar. You do want some, right?" I nod eagerly, then wait while he puts sugar into his cup also and then hands me mine. We move back to the living room.
The tea is hot; Max laughs at me when I jump. After a moment, though, it has cooled a bit and the heat is soothing. I feel myself relaxing slowly.
"Are you sure you're not going to get anymore sleep?" Max asks, yawning.
I yawn also. "I don't need much sleep. Don't worry, I'll find something to read or something."
"Okay..." he replies reluctantly, glancing at his watch again. We sit in companionable silence for a few minutes, finishing our tea. "I'd better get back to bed," he says finally, standing slowly.
"I'll be down here," I respond with a big yawn. I really am quite tired; I'll just rest my eyes for a moment.
I wake to the sound of pots and pans being manipulated in the kitchen. I'm surprsed to find that I not only fell asleep, but slept until it was light outside. I pick up my tea cup from earlier to carry it into the kitchen, then stop for a moment when I see the bottom.
I walk into the kitchen; he doesn't see me. "Sugar dissolves in boiling water," I inform him.
He turns to look at me. "Yes, I'm aware of that fact."
"I have to wonder why there is a white powdery substance at the bottom of my tea cup." I wait to see if he has an explanation.
"At least you slept in a bed," he grumbles in response.
"What?" I'm confused. "What does that mean?"
"It means I fell asleep on the stairs last night." He massages his neck.
Some of my anger dissolves, and I can't resist poking fun. "Interesting strategy."
"It wasn't a strategy," he almost growls, clearly not amused. "Curious George forced me."
I don't knwo what that means but it sounds awfully familiar. "The man in the yellow hat," I mumble, not sure what it means. Max spins to look at me.
"How do you know that?" His voice is caught between surprised and excited.
I look at him. "I don't. I mean, it sounds familiar, but I have no idea what it means."
"Oh." He looks disappointed. "I'll explain later."
"Meanwhile, you still haven't explained why you felt it necessary to administer a drug to me without my knowledge or consent," I remind him.
Max sighs, then turns to look at me. "As long as I'm responsible for your health and well-being, I'm going to do what I feel is best for you. Later, if you so desire, you may deprive yourself of as much sleep as you would like, though as someone who cares I'd rather you not."
"You could at least tell me," I respond petulantly.
He gives a half laugh. "Would you have drunk the tea if I had?"
"No. But..."
"You are one of the most stubborn people I have ever met." His voice is halfway between amusement and exasperation. "Breakfast is ready!" he adds after a moment.
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Any grammar experts out there? I can't help but feel that "drunk" is not the past participle of "drink"... but I can't come up with anything better. Actually, my instinct was to write "would you have drank the tea" which is the way that English is going at the moment, but then I decided I thought Max would say "drunk".. Sorry, that was a random side note.
Hope you're all enjoying the story! I'm getting close to the "end," at least for this story. Let me know what you all think, either review or send me an e-mail at molly_morrison@yahoo.com! Thanks!
I sleep dreamlessly for a good portion of the night, but then that is made up for with a return of the dream of Lyle.
In the midst of the dream, I wake up to realize that there is a real hand holding my shoulder. I come awake in an instant and lash out at the stranger. At the same time, I'm taking in the shadows of the dark room--where am I??
"Easy, Jarod," comes a calm voice. "It was just a dream, you're safe now." Finally, I remember: I'm not at the Centre, I left yesterday. I'm at Max's house. I relax. Slowly my panicked breathing subsides.
"That was quite a nightmare--your scream woke me upstairs," Max comments finally.
"Lyle."
"But it's over now.. he can't hurt you ever again."
"All I have to worry about is him coming to visit my dreams," I reply sarcastically.
"You can wake up from a dream," he reminds me. I sit up, sighing. "Would you like something to help you sleep?"
I shake my head. "I think I'm done with sleeping for tonight."
Max looks at his watch and frowns. "I'm going to go make some tea," he sighs. He moves toward the kitchen and I stand to follow. "Just wait here, Jarod," he protests. "You're my guest."
I ignore him, appearing in the kitchen just after him. He jumps when he sees me. "Oh!" He mock glares at me. "Didn't I tell you to wait?"
"Did I ever tell you I don't follow directions very well?" I grin.
I watch him quietly as he puts the kettle on to boil, then prepares the tea packets in mugs. Without being aware of it, I am staring at the kettle, waiting for the whistle that will signal that it is boiling.
"Tsk tsk, Jarod. A watched pot never boils." I look at him curiously. He shrugs. "Try it. It feels like it takes forever." I turn back to the kettle, my curiousity now sparked. He laughs.
He's right; it does seem to take a while. Finally, it begins to whistle and I look to Max triumphantly; he shakes his head incredulously. "Only you, Jarod."
He takes the kettle off the stove and pours water into both cups. I see the tea leaves color the water, the flavor spreading. Then he removes the packets and begins to sprinkle something into my cup.
"What's that?" My voice sounds more suspicious than I had intended.
He looks at me, surprised. "Sugar. You do want some, right?" I nod eagerly, then wait while he puts sugar into his cup also and then hands me mine. We move back to the living room.
The tea is hot; Max laughs at me when I jump. After a moment, though, it has cooled a bit and the heat is soothing. I feel myself relaxing slowly.
"Are you sure you're not going to get anymore sleep?" Max asks, yawning.
I yawn also. "I don't need much sleep. Don't worry, I'll find something to read or something."
"Okay..." he replies reluctantly, glancing at his watch again. We sit in companionable silence for a few minutes, finishing our tea. "I'd better get back to bed," he says finally, standing slowly.
"I'll be down here," I respond with a big yawn. I really am quite tired; I'll just rest my eyes for a moment.
I wake to the sound of pots and pans being manipulated in the kitchen. I'm surprsed to find that I not only fell asleep, but slept until it was light outside. I pick up my tea cup from earlier to carry it into the kitchen, then stop for a moment when I see the bottom.
I walk into the kitchen; he doesn't see me. "Sugar dissolves in boiling water," I inform him.
He turns to look at me. "Yes, I'm aware of that fact."
"I have to wonder why there is a white powdery substance at the bottom of my tea cup." I wait to see if he has an explanation.
"At least you slept in a bed," he grumbles in response.
"What?" I'm confused. "What does that mean?"
"It means I fell asleep on the stairs last night." He massages his neck.
Some of my anger dissolves, and I can't resist poking fun. "Interesting strategy."
"It wasn't a strategy," he almost growls, clearly not amused. "Curious George forced me."
I don't knwo what that means but it sounds awfully familiar. "The man in the yellow hat," I mumble, not sure what it means. Max spins to look at me.
"How do you know that?" His voice is caught between surprised and excited.
I look at him. "I don't. I mean, it sounds familiar, but I have no idea what it means."
"Oh." He looks disappointed. "I'll explain later."
"Meanwhile, you still haven't explained why you felt it necessary to administer a drug to me without my knowledge or consent," I remind him.
Max sighs, then turns to look at me. "As long as I'm responsible for your health and well-being, I'm going to do what I feel is best for you. Later, if you so desire, you may deprive yourself of as much sleep as you would like, though as someone who cares I'd rather you not."
"You could at least tell me," I respond petulantly.
He gives a half laugh. "Would you have drunk the tea if I had?"
"No. But..."
"You are one of the most stubborn people I have ever met." His voice is halfway between amusement and exasperation. "Breakfast is ready!" he adds after a moment.
--------
Any grammar experts out there? I can't help but feel that "drunk" is not the past participle of "drink"... but I can't come up with anything better. Actually, my instinct was to write "would you have drank the tea" which is the way that English is going at the moment, but then I decided I thought Max would say "drunk".. Sorry, that was a random side note.
Hope you're all enjoying the story! I'm getting close to the "end," at least for this story. Let me know what you all think, either review or send me an e-mail at molly_morrison@yahoo.com! Thanks!