Chapter 7

A strange nightmare

The morning after the engagement party, I decided to give the TV station that asked me for an interview, a call. The woman that had sent me the letter, Karen Cook, had answered the phone.

"Skye! Oh, I'm so glad you called," she cried. Her voice sounded sweet and sincere.

"Yes, I was actually dreading this phone call," I admitted. I didn't know if I was ready to tell the city what had happened. She giggled.

"Oh, I know. But believe me, we will have our most trusted anchor interview you, and you'll feel very comfortable," she assured me. It put a small smile on my face.

"When would you like me to drop by?"

"Oh, when are you not busy?" she asked. I shrugged.

"Probably tomorrow afternoon," I predicted.

"Great. Try not to make any plans for that day. I don't know how long the interview will take," She suggested. I took her advice wisely. "Oh, and don't worry about what you wearing or how you look. We'll take care of that," she added.

"I won't. I don't do it that much anyway," I mumbled. She laughed again.

"Well, thank you for calling us back. It's a great honor to have you on our station. I'll see you tomorrow at, oh, about twelve?"

"Sure," I blurted.

"Wonderful. I'll see you tomorrow then. Good-bye." She hung up the phone. I stared at it for a moment and then hung it up.

Was I comfortable with doing this interview? I had only told a select few of people, and even then, I didn't want to tell them, exception for Brad. He was the only one I had wanted to tell. But, I thought, maybe it was for the better that I get this horrible burden off of my chest and tell how I feel, and what had happened. I shook my head and walked away from the phone, turning on the TV for the afternoon news.

"In other news today, Zachary James, charged with rape and kidnapping charges, has pleaded not guilty in the case of Skye Lawrence, who was held hostage in her house for 3 weeks and brutally raped." I nearly flew off of the couch.

"Not Guilty!" I screamed at the TV. I ran my fingers through my hair, wanting to tug all of the silky strands out of my head. Not guilty? How could he not be guilty! I started to tremble as I buried my face in my hands and sobbed. How could he do this to me? How could he deny what he had done? How could he!

"You bastard!" I screamed and sat down on the couch, sobbing harder than I ever had before. My shoulders were heaving with every sob, my wailing growing louder and louder. Large, fat tears rolled down my cheeks and dripped onto my jeans. After a few moments passed, I didn't realize that Brad had even walked into the door until he was asking me what was wrong.

"He's pleaded not guilty!" I wailed loudly. He sighed and looked away. I sobbed harder, seeing the pain in his eyes. He grabbed my shoulders and made me look him in the eyes.

"Skye, look at me," he commanded loudly. I ceased my sobbing for one solitary moment and looked at him. "We are going to testify against him, and we will prove to the grand jury that Zach is guilty for what he has done. And you're not going to be alone. I'll be by your side continually." I looked at him for a moment before bursting into tears. He sat on the couch next to me, pulled me onto his lap, and rocked me back and forth in his arms.

"Shh. . . " I shook my head and buried my face into his chest. Soon, I stopped crying and he still rocked me in his arms until I grew weary and weak. He helped me sit up.

"C'mon, you need to get some rest. You've exhausted yourself very much." He aided me as I walked into the bedroom. He peeled back the covers and I slid in between the sheets.

"Sleep," he announced and kissed my forehead. He looked down at me sorrowfully as I rolled on my side.

"My dear Skye, everything will be over soon," he whispered and lay by my side until I had fallen asleep.

Nightmares did not invade my sleep. Instead, it was a wonderful dream about my wedding to be. I was dressed in an elegant eggshell white gown, the bodice showing a hefty bosom. It flowed down the aisle as I stood next to Brad, who was wearing a black tux with a rose tucked into his breast pocket. He held both of my hands as we exchanged vows. The dream faded, and I woke up in the middle of the night, near midnight. I sat up, and thought that I had heard something in the kitchen. My curiosity itched at my brain, and I decided to throw the covers off of my legs and slowly walked into the kitchen.

It was completely dark and quiet; the only thing I could hear was the rush of the cars down below on the street. My heart was pounding furiously, and I ran over to the front door where a baseball bat was lying in the corner of the room. I picked it up and gripped it.

The noise, whatever it was, had stopped. I investigated a little further to find out that a bottle of dish soap had fallen into the sink only because of the window that was open had knocked it down, the sheer curtains flowing from the light breeze. I sighed with relief and turned around, only to see a tall, dark figure standing at the other side of the living room. My heart leaped into my throat.

"It's good that Brad taught you how to hold a bat properly," the voice said, and instantly as the first word spewed from it's dark mouth, I knew who it was. I didn't reply, instead, he laughed.

"Cat got your tongue?" He asked as his footsteps boomed in my ears. I flinched at every one of them, but didn't let my guard down. I wasn't going to let him scare me, I vowed to myself. He stepped close enough for me to see his face in the dim moonlight that poured into the house from the kitchen window. He had looked the same that he had before he was arrested. He was clean shaven, and wearing one of his fine suits, his perfectly straight and white teeth glimmering when he beamed.

"I'm not afraid," I whispered shakily. "You're only a just a part of my imagination." He laughed, his bellow ringing in my head.

"You wish I wasn't real Skye. I haunt your dreams at night. I lay by your side, waiting for you to welcome me back into your life." I closed my eyes and shook my head, tears erupting underneath my eyelids.

"No," I choked. He laughed again, this one more chilling to the bone. I stayed frozen, my arms aching from holding up the bat so long.

"Remember when I told you that I wasn't going to leave you, ever? Didn't I tell you that I was always going to be truthful to you Skye?" He queried. I shook my head. He took another step forward and grabbed a lock of my hair and smelled it. His hand felt so light to the touch. . .

"It's like I've traveled back into time," he whispered, and the room suddenly got bright. The bat was no longer in my hand, and it seemed my pajamas weren't on anymore; they felt lighter. I slowly opened my eyes and found that I was back in hell.

We were in Zach's room again. I was wearing the red silk nightgown he had put on me and he was standing there with nothing on but a towel wrapped around his waist. I started trembling with fear, but I didn't want to show it. He smiled and placed his hand on my cheek. I wanted to swat it away as quickly as I could, but I couldn't move. I was paralyzed with fear. I wanted to scream, talk, yell, but I was literally in Zach's control.

"Didn't I tell you that I was always in control Skye?" He asked me. He leaned forward and kissed me softly. I stood in my spot. My brain was screaming at me to do something, but my body functions had shut down. Instead, a warm, tingling, feeling grew at the pit of my stomach. It was an overwhelming feeling of emotion, a feeling of . . . love.

"I can control every thing you do Skye. Your feelings, your motions, and timing," he announced. He kissed me again, enjoying the feeling of his lips against mine. He pulled away, and my mouth parted to form words.

"Yes, Zachary," I choked mechanically. My eyes were wide. How could he make me speak? My arms suddenly shot around his neck and I stepped toward him.

"Zach, I missed you," I said seductively. His smile couldn't have grown any wider. He placed his hands on my hips and pressed his body to mine. It felt so light next to me, I thought he wasn't standing there. Suddenly, I blinked, and he had lost all of his power, his control over me. I ran away from him and over to the balcony. He growled angrily and tried to get back his control, but I thought of Brad and anything that didn't involve Zach at all.

It had started raining, the rain so light against my bare skin that I didn't even imagine it was falling on top of me. A cold shiver went down my spine, but I could tell it wasn't from the rain, it was from Zach's penetrating stare as he watched me run to the edge of the balcony. I shook my head and grasped the railing, concentrating on my wedding day that was to come.

"Skye! I know you want to let go and come back to me!" Zach roared behind me as he approached. I let out a cry and faced him. His face was twisted in a concentrated state, trying to get me back into his control, but I fought him away by stepping out onto the railing of the balcony. It felt cold, wet and slippery underneath my bare feet.

"Don't even think about coming near me, Zach! Or I'll jump down!" I yelled over the sheets of rain that drummed on top of my head. I turned around to see him freeze in his spot, a look of anger on his face. I turned around again and looked down at the ground. The dirt was becoming muddy, the green grass turning to a dark brown because of the mud. I could hear the distant sound of cars driving by the front of the house, which sparked my curiosity. Zach lived in a gated community, almost half a mile away from a main road. Why were there so many cars driving by the house? Was it police cars, coming to my rescue to get me out of this horrible nightmare? I thought, this couldn't be real. This has to be another dream. It has to be. . .

Suddenly, Zach's hands were on my waist, trying to pull me back but I struggled with him, a boom of thunder echoing in the air.

"Skye! Skye!" He kept calling my name, but I kept my eyes closed and thought of Brad to keep Zach from getting back into my brain and controlling my every move. I tried to step off of the balcony, but he had his arms wrapped around my waist so tightly, I couldn't get free. Another boom of thunder sounded, and I opened my eyes.

"Skye!" Brad was screaming in my ear. My eyes widened to realize where I was. I was on our balcony railing, the rain drumming on top of my head. My pajamas were soaked to the skin, and my hair was pasted to my face and neck. I screamed and stopped defending myself. Beneath me, I could hear the louder roar of the cars as they drove by. I shivered just to think that I would have plunged to my death. Brad pulled me back into the house, falling down on the floor, gasping for breath from the apparent struggle.

"Wha-What happened?" I sputtered, bracing myself on my hands. Brad sat up and took a deep breath.

"You, you must have been sleepwalking," he muttered. Fear struck me, but so did relief at the same time. I was glad that it wasn't a nightmare, but it horrified me to think that if Brad hadn't woken up and heard me. . .

"How, how did you know I was out here?" I stammered. Brad saw the fear in my eyes, and he held me close to him. I didn't want him to be romantic now, but his embrace was so warm and welcoming.

"I heard you moaning and yelling, and when I didn't see that you were in bed, I panicked and ran out and saw you scrambling onto the balcony." He croaked. It was hard to breathe now, and soon, I collapsed into sobs. We sat on the floor for a few minutes and then he stood up.

"C'mon, get up, let's go back to bed," he announced and walked back to our room with me.

I don't remember the passing hours between that time and 8:00, but I remember I was just about to fall asleep just when my alarm went off. I groaned and pressed the off button on the clock, and looked at Brad. He was peacefully asleep, curled up beside me. I got out of bed and went into the kitchen to make a strong pot of coffee. The back door was open, letting a nice, cool breeze. The rain had stopped early on in the morning and all that remained were gray clouds. I sat at the table and stared down into my cup of coffee, watching the steam rise and the black liquid float around in the mug. Brad had woken up, and he saw me sitting there.

"You OK?" He asked, and I nodded. He poured himself some coffee and added a little creamer. He took a sip and spit it back out when he tasted it.

"This is strong," he coughed as he added more creamer and sugar to it.

"I needed a strong pot. I didn't get any sleep," I muttered into my coffee. He glanced at me and sat down at the table across from me. He took my hands into his and looked at me.

"Skye, I'm seriously considering that you need to talk to a counselor or a psychotherapist," he blurted, and I looked up sharply. He looked away. "Oh Skye, please don't give me that look," he pleaded.

"I'm not giving you any look," I snapped, looking up.

"It's just, ever since. . . " I didn't let him finish.

"YOU try going through what I went through Brad!" I screamed at him. He immediately regretted what he had said.

"Skye, I know what you've been through-"

"Then don't assume things!" I cried. "I am NOT crazy."

"I didn't assume you were crazy!" He roared. "I only suggested it because it would help you in the long run." I didn't answer him. Instead, I stormed from the table and walked into the bathroom and started to run water for a shower. I could hear the smash of a coffee mug on the floor and Brad's yelling and cursing. I ignored it and shed my damp pajamas and got into the shower, ripping the shower curtain across the rod angrily.

I didn't want to think about it anymore, I vowed. I wasn't going to get myself upset over this. I grabbed the shampoo and washed my hair angrily, almost ripping out strands of hair as I did so. I rinsed it out and conditioned my hair, resisting the urge to cry. I promised myself that wouldn't cry today, of all days. I got out of the shower and reached for a towel and wrapped it around my body. There was silence in the house. When I walked out of the bathroom, I saw that Brad had left. He didn't leave a note, either, which really made me angry.

"Damn him," I muttered, walking into my room. I picked out a T-shirt and a pair of jeans and put my hair up carelessly. The people at KYWB would probably change it anyway, I thought. I put a pair of sandals on, and looked at the clock. It was 10:00. I still had a few hours to kill. I decided that I would go down to third avenue where I had bought my first dress, to look at wedding dresses.

Down at the shop, there were already customers parading through the aisles. They were having a 30 percent off sale on all of the gowns.

"Are you finding everything OK ma'am?" One of the sales ladies asked me. I nodded and reached out to touch a specific gown. It was made of pure white silk. I pulled it off the rack and held it out in front of me. It was a spaghetti strap with a stiff bodice. It had a pure white skirt which flared out slightly at the waist. The straps were made out of pearls and the top edge of the bodice and at the bottom of the dress. I thought this was appealing, so I asked if I could try this on.

"Oh, definitely," she said. "I'm Trish," she introduced herself.

"Skye," I muttered, and she smiled.

"How old are you? You look 18," she asked.

"I'm about to turn 20," I replied, and she gasped.

"You, look so young," she said as we walked to the dressing area. I got a good look at her. She was slim, wearing a black polo shirt and a black skirt. Her hair was styled in a layered bob which framed her face. She wore a little too much blush and not too much eye shadow. "Right this way," she pointed to a dressing room and I walked inside, dropping my purse and starting to take off my clothes. I was starting to get excited about my wedding again. For days, I hadn't even thought of the actual wedding itself. I hadn't had thought who was going to be my bridesmaid, and who was going to walk me down the aisle. I slipped into the dress and didn't look into the mirror. I was going to wait until I got onto the stores' walkway to see it for myself. I walked out, and Trish's eyes lit up. I closed my eyes and looked at the dozens of mirrors that surrounded me.

It was like the dress was made for me. Sure, there was going to be adjustments and such, but it was perfect for me. I didn't want to look at any others.

"That's the one," Trish declared. I spun around in the mirror. "But were going to have to make size adjustments." She pulled out a tape measure from around her neck and measured my waist, chest, length and other dimensions.

"All I'll need to do is take off a few inches here and there, but other than that, it will be just so perfect. When is the big day?"

"We haven't set a date yet," I said softly.

"Haven't had time?" She asked as she looked over the dress, writing down what she needed to fix. I nodded and spun around.

"Is their shoes, and a matching veil that goes with this?" I asked, changing the subject. She thought about it.

"Actually, I think I do. Let me check," she said, scurrying off. I sat down and propped my head up with my elbow. I absolutely loved this dress. And I wanted it right now. I wanted to get married right now. But right now, I thought, I didn't know what was going to happen between me and Brad. I didn't know if it was going to be off, I didn't know what was going to happen. I blew air out of my lips and watched as Trish came back.

"How about this?" she suggested, handing me the veil and placing the shoes by my side. I took the veil from her. It was a sheer veil with a tiara of pearls holding it up. I took out my hair and shifted it into place, folding it over.

"You should wear your hair up," Trish decided. I nodded and looked over at the shoes. I slipped into the shoes and stood up.

"I'll take it."

"Right now?"

"Yes, Of course, after you do the adjustments." Her eyes widened.

"OK, cash or credit?"

"Credit." I still had money that Zach gave me a while back from a trust fund that I never got to use for college. I went back into the dressing room and changed into my clothes. She walked up to the counter and put the price in.

"Altogether with the shoes and the veil, its 4,000." I smiled and reached into my checking book.

"I thought you said that you were going to use credit," she said.

"I have enough money in my checking account to pay for it," I mumbled and wrote her a check for 4,000 dollars. I handed it to her, and she made me pull out my ID, and sign the check.

"OK, all set," she said. I thanked her and headed out of the store. I looked at my watch. It was quarter to 12:00. I got into my car and sped off to the TV station, hoping that this would go smooth and easy.