1|Dream Catcher

“Rory,” Mom’s voice crooned from my room.

“I’m in here, Mom,” I answered from the bathroom, stuffing hygiene supplies in my bag. It’s exciting and nauseating to see the empty shelves that once harbored things I own.

“Got everything?” Mom leaned on the door frame door, blond hair tied in a messy bun, white shirt under her flannel jacket marked with patches of sweat. She’s a huge help in packing my things. It might take me forever to box all the stuff I own, if not for her.

“I think that’s everything,” I said, giving her a wilful smile.

As the day moves closer to this moment, the loneliness I pushed aside now looms over us.

Her blue eyes locked with mine. And for a moment, a deafening silence embraced the two of us, broken by the blaring sound of Dad’s jeep.

Mom cleared her throat, giving my bathroom another scour before her plump pink tainted lips stretched into a forced smile. She clasped her hands, something she does whenever she’s wary. “Come along. You and your father have a long drive to Salvatore Hills.”

Mom and I never had that tense relationship. Some say I’m daddy’s girl, and I don’t dare argue with them, but that doesn’t mean I love mom any less. As she turned to walk back inside my room, I sprinted and wrapped my arms around her aging body from behind. She stiffened under my touch, but she didn’t show resistance to my manifest of a cheesy dramatic cuddle.

“I’ll miss your cooking,” I mumbled against her back, her floral perfume soothing my senses.

She patted my clasped hands over her tummy. “Silly child. You can always drive here on your day off, or I can have your dad drive me to your place.” Yep, she hates this sweet gesture and loves it at the same time.

I giggled. “Of course.”

She hummed as I removed my vice grip on her, turning to face me, tucking the wayward strands of my ponytail behind my hair. “Take care of yourself out there. Remember everything your father taught you.” I nodded, feeling moisture building on the brim of my eyes.

“Are you two having a moment without me?” Dad’s voice sounded from the open door. He passed glances to me and mom, which had us both clearing our throat. He flashed a knowing smirk, entering the room to pick up the last box containing my books.

“Loren, I’ve never seen you cry since our break up in senior high,” Dad teased, and mom gasped in response, making me giggle. Mom narrowed her eyes at me, shaking her head.

“You two, go away and let me have some peace to clean this place.” She huffed, preventing a smile from tearing her face in half.

“Bye, mom,” I gave her one last hug, which she returned with a tight squeeze of her own.

She hummed as we pulled apart. “Your dream catchers are in that last box.”

“Oh, thanks.”

~~

Dad and I arrived five hours later at my new apartment in Salvatore Hills. Moving to the suburbs is a massive change for a city girl like me.

The holiday season just ended. It’s the New year, an excellent way to start in a new place, at least that’s the encouraging words I play on repeat in my head, like a mantra.

After two years of serving with dad in the Seattle Police Department, I agreed to be transferred to SHPD. It was a quiet town, one of those places where everyone knew everybody. But the sudden disappearance of two police officers caused alarm in the force. Dad’s friend, Sheriff Perez, requested assistance, so here I am, traded. There’s no turning back now, and the pile of boxes Dad and I carried to my fully furnished apartment is a testament to that.

I’ll be living here alone for the entire year, and it freaks me out - a bit.

“Are you freaking out?” Dad asked from the kitchen where he’s testing the gas and locks of the doors and windows. He already did a background check on all my neighbors in this building for all I knew. He asked the landlord if he could tap in the CCTV as well.

“Kinda.” I opened the fridge and found water, nothing else.

Goodness, I’m feeling so domesticated already. Going to the grocery is the least of my favorite things to do.

“I’m just a call away, Rory.” Dad caught the water bottle I tossed over to him.

“Nice catch, Dad,” I commented, chuckling as I chugged down my water.

He bent his muscles melodramatically, mimicking a Mr. Universe pose, sending me to a fit of laughter. This is something only Dad can do. He always makes me laugh no matter what the situation is. Even if we’re solving a murder case, he makes sure that every end of our day in the station, we’d go home with a smile on our faces.

~~

Dad finally left my place after two calls from mom. I ordered pizza while unpacking my things. I had to keep my mind busy, preventing myself from dwelling on missing my old room, mom and dad’s sweet banter, because I know it’ll lead to unhappy thoughts.

As the day slipped by, the silence became deafening. 

Leaving the last box of my books on the floor, I grabbed the purple coffee mug mom packed for me. It has ‘Aurora’ engraved on it, a souvenir she got for me from her trip to her hometown in Russia.

I pulled the thick fabric of my sweater closer to my body, elbows set on the balcony railings.

This town is always so gloomy and cold. Even in summer, when Dad and I went camping here, it was constantly freezing, especially at night. Looking down, a few people were walking on the streets. This place is so quiet I wonder what happened to those two officers.

I’d miss the noise of the city, that’s for sure.

I lift the mug to my lips, drinking the last drop of my second coffee for the day. My eyes fluttered close when a wisp of chilly wind swept by.

I shivered, feeling eyes watching me, the kind that had my heart thumping in the confines of my ribcage. I closed my eyes, the mug almost slipping from my grip when my blood rushed in excitement. Warmth bloomed on the pit of my belly as if a thousand lighters lit up under my skin. It started on my jaws, like someone laid their warm finger there, tracing the invisible path to my lips that had me pulling my lower one between my teeth.

A beautiful set of silver eyes flashed on the back of my eyelids. The intensity burning in those pools of steely hues sparkled like a light in the dark abyss.

With a loud gasp, my eyes snapped open, stepping away from the railings.

Confused, my eyes made a quick sweep of my surroundings, breaths coming out in puffs, my heart clogged in my throat. All I could see were the endless dark clouds and fog blanketing the skyline.

‘What the hell was that?’

With a shake of my head, I shrugged the feeling off and went inside to take a shower.

I ignored the goosebumps on my nape while getting ready for bed and focused on checking all the necessities I needed close to me in my sleep. My sidearm and phone rested on the bedside table, a dagger buried under my pillow, and the dreamcatcher mom gave me dangled on top of the headboard.

‘Not dreaming is no cause for concern,’ Patricia, my psychiatrist, told me. I was seven when I asked mom if it’s normal for me not to have dreams like my friends. ‘Sometimes we have trouble remembering our dreams,’ Patricia said, and she made me do homework so I could remember my dreams. But nothing worked, and I just learned to live with it.

As the familiar arms of darkness embraced me, I fell asleep like every other night. Easy, calm, and serene… except a glimpse of a recent event in my life began to play.

It was like watching myself from another person’s point of view, but I clearly remember this day.

“Got some news today about the gunman?” Marie, the forty-year-old saleslady in the convenience store close to Lincoln Park, asked.

I just finished my morning run and stopped by for a box of orange juice.

Marie knew I could not tell her a thing about my job, so I said, “we’re still investigating,” taking the change and my juice box.

She repeated everything she said yesterday morning. How scared she was when she heard the shootout a few blocks from her place. I understand what she feels. It’s not every day that this woman experiences such a brutal act.

Through the store’s glass window, I saw Paul, my boyfriend of seven years. He said he won’t be up until a little later because he’d been working overtime with the case Marie was currently nagging me about.

I excused myself from Marie, cutting off her continuous rambling, and exited the store with a huge grin. Paul stood across the street, his nose buried deep in his phone.

I didn’t realize he was standing in front of a hotel until a woman with great curves and pretty blond hair stepped out of the glass entrance, hugging my boyfriend from behind.

Paul turned to face her, cupping her face to capture her plump red lips for a passionate kiss, the kind that had me crushing the empty juice box in my hands.

Stupidly, I watched the scene unfold. The cars and pedestrians became inconsequential as my vision tunneled to the two people making out this early in the day. As the sun rose, the rays passed through the gaps of the building. It was blinding, but I didn’t dare close my eyes, still unable to believe what I was seeing.

Paul pulled away from her, tilting his head to the side, and our eyes locked. His blue eyes went wide with recognition. He pushed the woman away and frantically looked side by side, crossing the street with long strides.

I remained on my spot, waiting for him to come to me. Why? I don’t know. Maybe I want to hear what lies he would tell me.

“Dawnie,” he was heaving like he did thrice of the lap I had. He swallowed hard, eyes roaming around my face as he opened his mouth to speak.

Turns out, I didn’t want to listen to his lies after all. My hand clutching the juice box landed on his face. He stumbled three steps back from the impact, holding his bleeding lip.

He regained his balance, but before he could reach for me, the sound of my alarm echoed, waking me up from my dream.

Eyes glued at the ceiling, I wonder if this is how dreaming really works, because it fucking sucks.