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Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

Out of Slumber

by amy

be critical, i like it

The following is a piece of writing submitted by amy on November 6, 2008
"Please be as critical as possible

I will post more later!"

Chapter 1

Chapter 1
I was no more than fifty feet from the shoreline. I had been treading water for what seemed like hours in between my failed attempts to swim my way back to shore. The air was thick with the essence of the impending thunderstorm’s fury. I could feel the electricity charged air blow across my face as a warning of what was yet to come.

I had no clue how I got in this precarious situation, nor how I was going to get out of it. The storm sent the waves crashing over my head again and again. My lungs burned from holding my breath longer than I could handle. I could no longer feel my legs-they were now rubber beneath me. I began sinking, down into the murky abyss below. I had given up the fight, acknowledged that it was my time to go, and prepared to meet my maker.
Then HE came, materializing in front of my eyes. . He pulled me out of my watery grave, took my arms and hooked them in a circle around his neck. I rejoiced in the familiar feel of his body pressed to mine as he swam me to shore. It had been months since he came to me in my dreams. I concentrated on hanging onto his rock hard body so that I did not succumb to the grasp of the ocean’s deadly waves. He laid me down in the sand and walked retreated without a word. I struggled to run after him as I had countless times before. I begged and pleaded with my rubbery legs to let me stay upright and catch up with him. I screamed, pleading into the storm “Come back! Please Come back!”
My voice was barely audible, it was swallowed by the wailing wind and crashing waves. The heavens opened, and a flood of rain poured from above. The rain slowed me down even more, and there was no chance that I would ever catch up to him. “Why do you keep doing this to me?”I bellowed.

I knew what would come next. I was unable to manipulate the outcome of these dreams. He would not turn back. I would be without him, bereft and empty until the next time he visited me in slumber land and he was there to save me. I would never know who or what he was, or why he continued haunting my dreams. I willed myself to wake up, to escape from the torture he plagued on me, and just before I came out of the haziness of slumber he turned to me. I saw his face for the first time and cried out with joy and frustration.
I sat up with a start, my neck sore, my hair wild and drenched with sweat. It took me a moment to get my brain to register where I was. My car. The rest stop. It all came back to me. I waited for the last bit of sleep to roll off my brain. My head was pounding, and my eyes burned from the pain. I needed food, coffee, and an aspirin. I would not allow myself the luxury of those mostly basic human needs until reaching my destination.

I turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking spot at the rest stop where I had been sleeping for the past five hours. I needed the fresh scenery the open road would provide to help me think. Never in the fifteen years that he has been haunting my dreams have I ever been able to see his face. Seeing him for the first time both delighted and terrified me. The dream used to come almost nightly, tapering off to about once a month when I reached adolescence. I could only count a handful of times that he had made his presence known in the past year.

As a young girl, the dreams of him were blurry, never seeming to make much sense. I was not an active participant in them at first, I was watching myself go through the actions, but not feeling anything. They traumatized me, being in open water and seeing nothing but sky and ocean before me. I would always be saved by the same man, and though I could not see his face, I felt the same electrifying sensation. The dreams got more vivid as I got older, and at times they still terrify me. Sometimes he is almost too late. I awake, my throat and lungs sore, swallowing as much oxygen as I can possibly take in.
But now, finally, his face will be forever etched into my memory. The image of him flashed in my head like a film reel stuck on the same frame. I welcomed the frequency of the brilliant image my mind had captured. I had always known he was godlike. Sandy blonde hair, wet and tousled, a little over 6’ tall, body thick, hard, and rock solid. Eyes blue grey- the same color as the angry ocean that tried to swallow me alive time and time again. His eyes were not happy or welcome, but angry like the ocean had been. That was definitely something worth pondering.
“He is probably tired of saving me.” I said aloud to myself. I jumped as the sound of my own voice startled me, and then laughed at myself.

The dreams of him were the only ones that I remembered other than the prophetic visions I had of my future, and those I would or already did interact with. The dreams of drowning have caused me to be extremely nervous and on edge whenever I am near water. I keep waiting for the time to come when drowning is no longer a dream, but my ironic reality. Each time I see him, the dream is altered in one way or another, but he has remained the one who saves me just before the ocean claims me as its next victim.

I looked at the clock on the dashboard and cursed to myself that it was only 5:00am. I had an early start, and would reach Atlantic Beach in the next six hours. That would put me at the doorstep of the rental house at 11:00am, four hours earlier than I was expected. I was always early, but four hours was a little ridiculous.I supposed that I could stop by The Ocean’s Fury and meet my new boss first

I yearned for the comfort of a bed to sleep in. I had slept in my car off and on for the past week. At one point in time, I almost caved and got a hotel room, but I didn’t want to waste my money. There were more important and pleasurable ways that I would be spending it in the near future. I showered at truck stops and campgrounds, never stopping long at any one place.
I could not afford to live alone as I preferred; instead I would be living in a rental house with three other girls who were all also employed at The Ocean’s Fury for the tourist season. I had dreamt about them before finding the ad they had placed on a website for the room for rent. At first I was annoyed at the thought of sharing my living space with so many other people. The more people, the more likely I was to connect with someone, or for someone to think they are connecting with me, which is what I have avoided at all costs throughout my life. But the more I dreamt of them, the tiny spark of excitement in my gut took on a life of its own.
Melissa was tall and trim, with golden hair spilling down her back, eyes deep brown and inquisitive. She was twenty-three, the same age as me. She was the maternal one of the group. Her level headedness kept the other two in line. Her sister, Tanya, was only twenty-one, with the same golden shade of hair, but instead of long flowing locks, she kept it cut at chin length to frame her heart shaped face. I only had a glimpse of her in the dream, as if she was simply a part of the background, or possibly being protected by the others.
The third girl, Lauren, was twenty-five and had been Melissa’s best friend for ten years. Her skin was the color of rich caramel, her French Creole features were flawless. She had vivacious curves in all the right places. She was the outgoing, vibrant one of the bunch; the leader of the pack of lionesses.
All three of them were presently single despite their beauty. They enjoyed flirting with their customers, getting dined and ravaged by the pick of the litter on their nights off. Their rules for the dating games they played were simple: no dating someone one of the other girls had previously dated, no fighting over who gets which guy. Let them chase you, not the other way around. My dreams of them made things much easier when searching the online ads. Theirs practically jumped through my computer screen and bit me on the hand. Their application process humored me, and I filled it out with pure honesty and an open mind. It contained questions regarding previous work and dating history, likes and dislikes of movies and literature, and even religious beliefs. I felt that it was a fair exchange for me to have to answer their questions since I already knew so much about them without their knowledge. However, I did answer their questions with the most simple and basic answers as possible. I did not elaborate on anything so that I could create an illusion of a very boring person.
After passing their written application with flying colors, I had a phone interview with each of the girls. Each of them asked me a completely random series of questions. Thirdly I had to send them a picture of myself. This was no big deal, as I had already had to do this in my application for employment at The Ocean’s Fury. That application process was much simpler than the one to have a room in the rental house.

Once they finally accepted me as their roommate, I felt that same sense of uncharacteristic elation building up within me again. Lauren seemed surprised that I did not need to ask for directions, I already knew the way. I could picture the room that would be mine; pale yellow walls and a whole wall of windows with a view of the Atlantic Ocean. The other girls loved the view, but liked to sleep in, which the sun prevented them from doing despite their efforts with blinds and curtains. So I, being the low man on the totem pole per say, inherited it. I did not really want the room with the ocean view either, but for other reasons. The ocean terrified me. Being anywhere near it sent chills down my back as if someone was walking on my grave.

Sure, I liked water…the chlorinated kind with a measurable depth that you could see all the way down to the bottom of. The vastness of the ocean and all of the mysteries that it contained could remain mysteries as far as I was concerned. I felt the sick rush of panic each time I thought of living on Atlantic Beach for the summer. The bar that I would be working at was ironically named The Ocean’s Fury. I should have seen this as a sign to run the other direction and not look back, but my intuition had yet to fail me, so I continued in the direction that my dreams told me to. I did not question what brought me to this place; I just let my premonitions guide me to my next destination as I had been doing since I was seventeen.
I inherited this feeling of restlessness from my mother, Carly. Unlike her, however, I had a keen sense of the direction I was supposed to be headed in. She just got in the car and drove until she found a town that she thought was cute. She wouldn’t ever take my advice on where our next destination should be, and after a while I barely bothered speaking to her. It did not matter, because she was afraid of me; afraid of what I could see.

I stopped telling her about my dreams around the age of ten. She was extremely frightened by my visions. I tried to explain to her that I couldn’t help it, but she would not listen. She used to threaten to send me to a doctor for a lobotomy. I was only nine years old at the time, and didn’t have any inkling as to what exactly that meant, so I looked it up in an encyclopedia at a library. I hid in the bathroom at the library and refused to come out. I told the librarian that my mother said she was going to have a doctor stick an ice pick into my eyeball and hit my skull with it. The librarian threatened to call social servives, but my mother fed her a line of bull about me having a habit of causing scenes like that to get attention.

Carly Grant was raised by a Baptist minister in the heart of Baton Rouge, LA. Her father kicked her out of their home at the age of sixteen when she gave birth to me, and would not reveal who the father was. She blamed me for having to live in homeless shelters and beg for money to keep me clothed and diapered. She never failed to remind me that I was the abomination who caused her nothing but hardship. I used to wonder why, if I was so terrible and worthless, she didn’t just leave me at the hospital or give me to someone who wanted the responsibility.

She never even told me who the man who helped create me was. I wish that I had a name, a face, even just a family history so that I could know that I inherited my gift from somewhere, from someone. I once thought of going back to Baton Rouge to see if my grandfather, Reverend Grant, would recognize me, or have found through his own investigation, who had fathered me.

I stopped at the first gas station that I came to in the city. I took my cosmetic bag inside with me in attempts to straighten myself up. I raked my fingers through the wavy tangled mass of jet black hair atop my head. I usually let it lie where it may, not worrying much about it. The wild mane fit me, so I did not attempt to tame it. I applied a second coat of deodorant as a precaution in the heat, and then glanced back into the mirror. My bright blue eyes stared back at me. Though I had gotten little sleep throughout the past week, my eyes appeared bright and alert. I splashed my face with cold water and returned to my car.

I drove through Atlantic Beach to get a better feel for it. It was part of the Crystal Coast; located at the Eastern end of Bogue Banks where the historic site of Fort Macon State Park was located. I had to admit that it was breathtakingly beautiful, no matter how much I detested the ocean. There were tons of restaurants, shopping venues, hotels, and long stretches of beautiful beach. I would be here from mid-May until the end of September. That left plenty of time to fully explore the area.

I found The Ocean’s Fury with no trouble at all. I had already memorized it in my dreams. I would bartend and waitress there Tuesday through Saturday evenings 7:00pm until 3:00am. My roommates were also my coworkers. There would also be Ben the bouncer, and Steve the manager. I would likely not interact with them very often, unless there was a problem with one of the patrons. I saw a car in the parking lot, and I recognized it as being Steve’s Grand Prix, so I stopped by to introduce myself.

“Hello?” I called as I entered. It was very quiet, and I began to think that maybe Steve had left to run an errand.

“Can I help you?” The voice of the person behind me was clearly annoyed.

I turned around quickly, upset with myself for being startled by the sound of his voice. I reached out my hand to him and gave him my most dazzling smile.
“Keely Grant.”

“Right. Keely. I see that your picture did not do you justice. Great to see that you have made it to town. I knew I was doing right by taking a chance on you. I don’t have you on the schedule until Tuesday. I didn’t want to start you on a Saturday, but if you have time tonight you are more than welcome to come check things out and get a feel for the crowd.” Steve said getting right down to business.
I could tell that I was going to like him already. Straight to business, not stopping to mess with the getting to know you crap that so many of my former employers have insisted upon in the past.

“Of course.” I replied gratefully.

“Stop by after 10:00pm, which is when things start to liven up.” Steve added.

“I shall see you later tonight then.” I said with a smile and a wave. Steve was clearly not one for small talk. I hurried back through the door that I had entered through. I could feel Steve’s eyes appraising my backside as I walked out the back door. I rolled my eyes, but was not worried about his attention. Steve was a bit of a pervert, but nothing to be feared. He was very protective of the girls that worked for him, and would not let any man take advantage of them.


I drove the ten minutes to the rental house thinking that I could perhaps walk home from work on days when I was too keyed up to sleep. I would have to walk along the beach, but the risk would be worth it. I pulled into the winding driveway, taking the spot next to the red convertible that the three other girls shared. They had pooled their money together at the end of last season to buy it. I almost felt guilty for knowing so much about them prior to them even meeting me. I promised myself that I would feign ignorance when they told me the story.

I started towards the front door, but changed my path when I heard their playful banter. They were sunbathing on the stretch of beach behind the house. All the other houses within ten miles in either direction were also short term rentals and time shares. The first ten houses on both sides of ours were all a varied pastel color. Ours was a lemon yellow; the others were purple, a hideous sea foam green, blue, and even peach. I was thankful that ours was yellow. I liked the idea of a rotation of different neighbors coming and going, it kept things interesting and impersonal.

At first, none of the three girls noticed me, but as I made my way closer to them, Lauren let out a squeal of delight and ran over to greet me. Melissa and Tanya followed close behind her as Lauren embraced me in a genuine bear hug. I could tell that I should not have worried about being earlier than expected. Lauren was so excited she must have been on the edge of her seat with anticipation the whole morning and into the afternoon.

“Keely! We are sooo glad to finally meet you! Let me grab my shoes and I will help you get your things inside the house.” Her caramel skin was warm, and her eyes were sparkling with mischief. I was startled by her very exuberant greeting, and took a step backwards.

Melissa and Tanya were equally genuine in their greetings of hello, but did not hug me quite as enthusiastically as Lauren had. They sensed my hesitation in her boisterous greeting, and altered theirs to make me feel more comfortable.

“I really don’t have that much to carry in. I think I can manage on my own.” I replied guardedly. I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment over the fuss they were making over me.

Lauren already had her shorts and flip flops on and was halfway to my mazda before I got the words out.

“Tanya, can you grab our towels and the radio?” Melissa asked her younger sister.

Tanya did not reply with words, but rolled her eyes and then sprinted out to their spot on the beach to retrieve their things. Her lanky body was tan and toned, it did not take her long to reach their things.

“You will have to excuse Lauren,” Melissa said under her breath, “she has been talking non-stop about you all day. You’d think she just got a new puppy.”

I appreciated Melissa’s point of view, and gave her a thankful glance for her level headedness regarding my arrival. “I just hope she doesn’t jump off of a cliff for excitement when she realizes how utterly boring I am.” I found it easy to joke with her.

“I can hear you guys!” Lauren chided. “And I think that we can all tell just by looking at you that there is nothing boring about you.”

Good luck with your detective work ladies, but my history is sealed away, I thought to myself. I did not let me face show any reaction at all to her statement.

Tanya had rejoined us and shared her surprise at my lack of luggage. “This is all you brought? Do you have the rest of your things in storage somewhere?”

“I warned you that I am very boring. This really is all that I have. I move around a lot, so I have found that it is easier not to get attached to anything that won’t fit into my car. It is the only practical way of life for me.”

My lack of earthly possessions and attitude regarding them only peaked their curiosities. After a brief tour of the house, all three of them followed me up the stairs to my bedroom to help me unpack my things. I figured that if they insisted on helping, I would put them to work by unpacking my clothes. They were very quiet, but I could read their body language as they passed my articles of clothing to one another. I turned from them to hide my smile.

“Keely, I am a very straightforward person, and I like to keep it real. So… please don’t be offended by this, but… you can NOT work at The Ocean’s Fury wearing the clothes that we have seen so far. You are in desperate need of a wardrobe makeover.” Lauren said with a look of contempt at the dingy jeans she held in front of her.

“I just assumed there would be a uniform.” I said this just to upset them. I knew there would be no uniform, and knew that they were dying to take me shopping which was why I specifically did not prepare by shopping beforehand. This was the kind of thing they lived for.

“You can’t be serious!” Exclaimed Tanya.

I pretended to look hurt. “Well, I did save quite a bit of money for a new summer wardrobe. Could you give me some sort of a clue as to what I need to be shopping for?”

Melissa and Lauren looked at each other and grinned.

“Shopping is what the two of them live for.” Tanya warned with a roll of her eyes.

“We will shop on Monday.” Melissa planned, “You will need something to wear tonight though. I think that black skirt will work. Tanya, can we use your blue halter. The one with the sparklies?”

“Of course, it will really make her eyes pop!” Tanya joined in with the attitude of “if you can’t beat them, join them.”

They let me finish unpacking my books and toiletries on my own as they continued to plot our shopping trip on Monday. I had $500.00 saved for their shopping spree. I knew that it was going to excite them when they find out exactly how much money they would have at their disposal. There were only hoping for half that amount. I giggled to myself. I enjoyed making them happy, and saw myself fitting in, whether I wanted to or not.

They were the kind of girls whose feelings would get hurt when I leave them. They will feel abandoned. They consider themselves, and even me, a family. That is why they were so selective in their process to find a fourth roommate. I had to be extremely careful to keep my distance as time went by so that they would not take the blow of my absence personally. I knew how to go about it; I had done it

several times before.
I hadn’t eaten anything all day, and my hunger set in when my stomach growled at me angrily. I was dying for a shower and a nap, but my need for sustenance
won over my desires for sleep and cleanliness.

I told the girls that I would be going to the market to stock up on a few things and would be by the bar around 10:00 that evening. I knew that they would have my outfit and shoes laid out on my bed with specific instructions on how to wear my hair and makeup. It made me giggle again to think that I was amusing them with my feigned need of a makeover. I wished that they could see the clothing I had in Aspen.

Before showering, I took my digital camera outside to take pictures of the house and the view of the beach from my window. I had been keeping photo journals of all of the places I had lived in the past six years. I kept them hidden in a box under my bed to avoid answering questions about my past. I could only hope that the girls here would respect my privacy and not snoop enough to find them. A little snooping was to be expected, which was why they were in a box labeled legal documents. I skimmed through them, letting the flood of memories wash over me.

The day I finished my last high school correspondence class I left my mother. We were always moving, so attending high school like normal kids my age was not realistic. She had met a man who called himself Gabrielle, who was the leader of a religious sect; aka a cult; in Northern California. He was extremely charismatic, and sucked vulnerable women and their children into his cryptic way of life.
He made us live off of the land, only eating what we could grow ourselves, and shunning all technology. Gabrielle preached that technology and scientific discoveries were the source of all of the world’s current evils. They believed that natural disasters were a punishment from God, and all would stop when everyone followed in their footsteps, and took on the same set of values and beliefs as they did. My mother truly believed that Gabrielle was a prophet sent to spread the word of God and invoke a change in the hearts of the people.
I felt sorry for leaving my mother in his sadistic clutches, and I tried relentlessly to persuade her to leave with me. My attempts were futile, and she stayed with Gabrielle and the other followers. She betrayed me, her one and only child, and told Gabrielle about my visions and my attempts of trying to get her to leave. She refused to say goodbye, telling me that I was heading straight into the devil’s arms by leaving. Gabrielle isolated me from everyone, telling me that it was so that I could not spread the devil’s seed to the others.
I left on foot in the middle of that cruel night, with nothing but a picture of my mother in my pocket and twenty dollars I had managed to keep hidden from Gabrielle in the three months we had stayed with him. I was afraid of what they might do to me if I stayed any longer. My mother was clearly not in her right mind, and had already sold me out to Gabrielle once. I had no doubt in my mind that she would do it again.
I walked for an entire day before a car finally stopped to help me out. I was not worried or nervous that help would never come. I was simply waiting for this particular car- it belonged to an off-duty policeman and his wife. I had dreamt of them the night before I decided to leave my mother and her cult. I knew that he and his wife would take me into their home and give me a place to live while I sorted my life out.

Officer Todd Campbell and his wife Maria were very understanding and compassionate people. I told them from the beginning that when it was time to go, I would go. I did not like goodbyes, and things would be easier for them if I just disappeared. They pretended to understand my notions, but they could never quite grasp what I was trying to get them to believe about me.
Todd did some research on Gabrielle and the cult, but could not find anything to indicate that they had violated any of the local sanctions. He did, however, find out that his name was not Gabrielle, but Robert Findlay. Mr. Findlay was wanted in the states of Texas and Illinois for six counts of child molestation. My heart still burned for the children I had known while I lived there. I could not imagine the horrendous things that happened to them behind closed doors. The FBI went to raid the cult’s campsite, but they were gone and no trace of them was left behind.

Todd figured that if I ever decided to look for my mother in the future, I would need every piece of the puzzle that I could get. He did his best to keep a record of everything he had learned about Robert Findlay, aka, “Gabrielle.” He didn’t believe me when I told him that I had no interest in ever seeing Carly again. I tried not to refer to her by her first name in front of him, because I knew that he saw it as being disrespectful. I imagined that if he had grown up with her as a parent, he would understand. I had come to accept a long time ago that she was no mother to me, just simply the person who gave birth to me.

Shortly after the Campbells took me in, Maria found out that she was pregnant with their first child. She was buoyant and glowing, full of maternal love and adoration for her unborn child. I confided in her that I had a habit of dreaming things that happened to come true. I did not go into detail, but gave her the idea that it was more of a sensation of de ja vu. She wanted so badly to know what her child would look like and whether it would be a boy or a girl, and she wanted me to tell her. She did not understand that I could not will myself to dream about any one thing or person in particular. If so, I could tell the FBI where to find Carly and the other followers Gabrielle held captive with threats of the impending world’s end.

The Campbells were very financially well-off, and bought me a car my first week in their home; a jet black Mazda 626, brand new and hot off the lot. I could not understand the Campbell’s desire to purchase me material possessions. I had always had to scrape by in the past, and was embarrassed by their gifts. Now seven years and 160,000 miles later, it was still puttering away. I had a savings account specifically for the purchase of a new car. It was my goal to buy it straight off the lot all on my own this time. My dream was only a few thousand dollars away.

I left the Campbells three months before their baby was born. I left them a very long letter thanking them for the car, the clothing, and the money they had set aside for me to begin my new life. I had dreamt of my next adventure, and knew that it was time to move on.

I pushed the rest of my memories aside. I placed my focus on showering and dressed according to my very specific instructions. Silver eye shadow, very black mascara, skip on the eyeliner and sparkly pink lip gloss that was left on my bed as a gift from Lauren. “Gel wet hair and leave down- it will make your hair ultra wavy and sexy” Melissa had written. I was happy that they had not directed me to put my hair up. I would have hated to disappoint them, but the only time I put my hair up was to jog. I preferred to let my tangled mane hang down and provide some security from curious onlookers. I liked working during tourist seasons because then I did not stand out like a sore thumb amidst all of the locals.

I took a cab to The Ocean’s Fury so I could allow myself to indulge in the full experience by having a drink or two. I couldn’t indulge too much or I would dream too vividly, and even sleepwalk. I had once hoped that alcohol would knock me out cold and prevent me from dreaming. It did the opposite, and enhanced my dreams. Sometimes when I drank too much I would wake up in odd places and be confused as to how I had gotten there.

I took a look around at the packed parking lot and was thankful that I had taken the cab. There was a line to get in at the front door, so I took advantage of knowing the management by entering through the back. Steve heard the door open and came out to investigate. He saw that it was only me and nodded. He returned to the storage room where he pulled out two bottles of vodka and one Malibu Rum.

“Let me give you a hand with that Steve.” I rushed to him. He handed me four bottles of my own to carry, I didn’t take the time to see what they were, but followed him behind the bar.

“Here you go ladies.” He stocked the bar with his bottles and then took the ones I had been holding and did the same with them. He nodded at me again as headed to the front door to greet a friend who had just arrived.

Lauren was the first to see me, and after giving me a once over she winked in approval. The bar was packed, and none of the girls had time to sit and talk. I took the one empty seat at the bar and waited for Melissa to take my order. One vodka with cranberry…I barely got the words out of my mouth as she mixed my drink, and got three beers for the guys next to me in less then a minute.

“The first one’s on me sweetheart, the man next to me interrupted as I reached out to pay.”

I nursed my first drink while I looked around. It was bigger than it had seemed in my dream. The dance floor was packed with people gyrating to the music. There was a band playing tonight. There would be bands most Fridays and Saturdays, which was when they drew the biggest crowds. Wednesday night was open mic night for amateurs, which Melissa had ensured me would be quite eventful. I wondered if I would be able to keep up with the pace of the weekend crowd.

I tried to stick to my standard two drink maximum, but men from various parts of the bar kept the drinks coming. At times, I didn’t even know what type of drink had been bought for me. After several lemon drop shots, Tanya saw that one man in particular had the wrong idea about me, and rescued me from my drunken stupor.

“Dave, I am glad that you have already met Keely. She is the newest victim of The Ocean’s Fury. She starts Tuesday, so go easy on her, eh?”

The man looked at me with a sigh. He knew that there would be hell to pay if he tried to take advantage of one of Steve and Ben’s girls. I felt a moment’s worth of pity for the poor old man for wasting so much of his time getting me wasted so he may have a chance to take me to bed. Then I decided to make his night somewhat worth it by pulling him on the dance floor. This seemed to satisfy him for the time being.

When I drank alcohol, my body and mind relaxed, I let down my guard and let people in. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirrored dance floor wall and hardly recognized myself. My usually pale cheeks were flushed, and my eyes were bright with excitement. . I didn’t know who this person dancing with Dave was, but I was enjoying her appearance. It felt good to let loose and have fun with a complete stranger.

Dave could not keep up with me on the dance floor, and he apologetically left me with a group of guys closer to my age. They all had crew cuts and bulging biceps, so my guess was that they were part of one branch of the military or another. I vaguely recalled passing a sign that indicated military headquarters, but could not recall which one. It was very unlike me to forget details, no matter how trivial. I attributed my temporary memory loss to the large quantities of alcohol that I had consumed.

The group of buff men were distraught when I left them, and one followed me outside, his eyes never leaving me. The noise had gotten to be too much to handle. We tried small talk, but it was too loud for us to even make out each other’s names over the band. I waved with a look of apology, ran through the bar, and out the back door.

My head was spinning with the mixed effects of alcohol and the adrenaline of a natural high. I needed to make my temples quit pounding before my head exploded in my hands. Lauren had seen my escape and signaled to Tanya to get one of the guys to run me back to the rental house. His name was Scottie, and he was overtly gay. He didn’t drink much, and was always there as a designated driver for those who needed him. He explained all of this on the ride to the rental house. All that I could concentrate on was not vomiting in his car, and how nice it would feel when I finally got to lay my body down in a real bed.

The following is a piece of writing submitted by amy on November 6, 2008
"again, be critical"

Chapter 2

I had fallen asleep on the beach outside the rental house while reading a novel. Sunset came, and the tide swept me into the ocean. Before I knew it, I was too far out to get back. I was a poor swimmer, and doggy paddling was not helping me get to shore. With every attempt I made, another thundering wave crashed over my head, choking me and pulling me under its deathly grasp. My energy was soon exacerbated, and I began to give in to the hungry sea.

Just as I was about to sink down beneath the surface he appeared out of
nowhere, grabbing me from behind and holding me close to him. Now that I knew his face, he didn’t attempt to hide it from me. Instead, he pulled me around to meet his gaze and allowed me to look at him straight on. He gave me the same angry scowl as before, and I was mesmerized by its intensity. I tried to speak, to ask him what I had done to make him look at me that way, but my throat still burned from the ocean’s attack, and I was unable to speak. Before I knew it, we were on shore and I was still in his arms. He laid me down on the sand, lingering by my side for only a moment before disappearing again.

I woke with a start, yearning for the feel of his sheltering arms around me. It had been so real, so vivid, that I could smell the salty sea in my hair, and feel the roughness of the sand upon my skin. I needed it to be real, to find this man who had haunted my dreams for fifteen years. I slipped on my robe and left the house as if in a trance. I didn’t stop long enough to put on shoes; I made my way barefoot to the edge of the ocean. The closer I got, the faster I ran, as if running would get me there fast enough to catch him before he abandoned me again by disappearing into time and space.

He was not there, it was only the ocean that greeted me in anger and slapped me awake with each wave crashing upon my body. I was knee deep in the water, and wanted to run out further and let the ocean carry me to him. But I knew that he was not out there, he was not real, no matter how much I wanted him to be.
I lingered there for countless minutes and then slowly made my way back to the house in defeat. I was dripping wet and did not want to leave a trail of water in the house, as if doing so would show my roommates a part of me that I wanted to keep hidden. So I stripped down naked and rushed to my bedroom. I slipped beneath my blanket and imagined him being there with me, doing what I could to conjure up his memory and invite him into my dreamland.

I did not dream anymore. I woke up to the sun beating through my window, and glanced at the clock next to my bed. I was in shock that it was four in the afternoon. I could not remember the last time I had slept so late in the day. Instead of beating myself up over wasting the day as I normally would have, I lingered in bed and enjoyed the feeling of the silky sheets on my naked body, imagining that it was his hands that rubbed on me so intimately, and not merely the sheets upon my bed. I finally let responsibility and my growling stomach overrule, and I put on some shorts and a t-shirt.

I could hear noises from the kitchen downstairs. The most wonderful smell invaded my nostrils, and I rushed down to investigate. Melissa was pulling a pan of lasagna out of the oven. The tantalizing aroma had also reached out to Lauren and Tanya, and they both came running into the room. Melissa smiled out of satisfaction that her cooking had done the job of getting everyone downstairs.

“Keely you are going to love Mel’s lasagna!” Lauren raved.

“We all take turns cooking a feast on Sunday afternoons to celebrate the end of a work week.” Tanya explained.

“We can tack you onto the end of the rotation.” Melissa said as she laid out rolls, butter, and a garden salad.

The four of us made for an odd scene. Our hair tousled from sleep, Lauren and Melissa still in their bedclothes, and Tanya and I in running shorts and t-shirts. We were all stuffing our faces and lounging around various parts of the sun room rather then sitting at the table in the next room.
I couldn’t believe how good the lasagna tasted. I felt as though I hadn’t eaten in days. I ate two pieces, a salad and countless rolls. I felt like a beached whale when I finally forced myself to put down my fork. “Melissa, that was so very good that I think I could marry you.”

“Thank you, but I don’t swing that way baby.” Melissa laughed as we all giggled along with her. “I knew that we would all need to store up on carbs for the shopping trip tomorrow.”

“Speaking of shopping, what’s our budget like for tomorrow?” Lauren’s eyes sparkled as she was concocting ideas in her head.

“Oh, I don’t know, about $500ish.” I said sheepishly. Lauren and Melissa both let out whoops of excitement and even Tanya’s face brightened with the news.

“I think after we teach Miss Keely about fashion, we are going to have to also teach her how to handle her liquor.” Melissa glared at me through her thick lashes.

I knew I couldn’t have been lucky enough to avoid being confronted with my early escape from The Ocean’s Fury. I just rolled my eyes at her and sighed as if I was concurring. I knew how to handle my liquor, which is why I generally stuck with my limit. The excitement of the previous night overwhelmed me, and I had let myself be taken in by the alluring atmosphere. I would be more careful the next time I was in that situation.

I was the first to rise from the table, insisting that I would wash the dishes since everyone had been so nice to me since my arrival. I told them it was best not to spoil me, but to throw me right into the routine of things. I washed the dishes silently; my mind was stuck on the vivid image of him from my dream the night before. I cursed myself for being so susceptible to my own imagination’s creation. He was fictitious. If he had been real, I would have come across him at least once in the past fifteen years, I thought to myself.

I decided to take a jog along the beach in attempts to get him out of my system. Tanya had taught me which landmarks to look for in order to measure the distance I was running. She offered to come along, but I preferred solitude while jogging. She understood, it was the same for her, it was a release.
After leaving the Campbells, I headed towards Michigan where I would take a certification class. I stayed in Flint long enough to earn a certificate in photography. I still did not understand why it had to be Flint. I could have easily gotten my photography certificate at hundreds of other places. I did not form any kind of relationship with any one person. I waited tables at the local Denny’s to get by, and barely left my apartment unless I was there or in class. The day that certificate was placed in my eager hands; I was in my car again, headed towards Tennessee. In Tennessee, I worked as an assistant to a photographer who was on staff at a resort in the Smokey Mountains. We shot wedding after wedding. The people in the photographs intrigued me. They all had the same look in their eyes- the look of contentment and love. That look was something I had never experienced first-hand, and was determined not to let it happen. I was too restless, I moved on at a moment’s notice, and having someone to love me would not work in a life such as mine.
I again found myself sifting through my memories from the past. I was only in Tennessee for nine months, and from that point on I have moved to seven different places working various tourist seasons: Orlando, FL, Miama, FL, Myrtle Beach, SC, Aspen CO, Laguna Beach, CA, Denver, CO, and now Altlantic Beach, NC. I have worked as a bartender, waitress, sales clerk in a resort gift shop, and in hotel housekeeping.

I enjoyed both Miami and Orlando, but the humidity made my hair a constant ball of frizz. I roomed with the same two other girls in both cities. All of us kept to ourselves, which made it much easier not to form a relationship with each other. Rebecca and Trina had the same need for solitude as I did. We lived together merely out of convenience, none of us being able to afford rent on our own. I slept on a futon in the living room so that the other girls could have their own rooms. They had many more things that I did, and could use the closet space; while I was content living out of suitcases for the year that I stayed with them.
My dreams, prior to this morning, had been the most vivid while I lived in Myrtle Beach, SC. Despite there being so much water involved in my stay, it was eerily peaceful there. The dreams weren’t nightmarish, but calming. I actually looked forward to sleeping each night so that I could see him again. I was able to live alone in a closet sized apartment above a doughnut shop. The sickening sweetness drifting up through the vents was too much to handle at times.
Everywhere I went I could smell that same sugary aroma on my skin, in my hair, and on every article of clothing that I owned.

From there I lived in Aspen, CO for six months and then Laguna Beach for another six. I worked in housekeeping in the mornings, and bartended at night in both cities. Again, I had the privilege of living on my own, not caring how small my living space was, just appreciating the solitude. I didn’t have time to make friends, although I got plenty offers for dates, I was simply not interested. One of my coworkers, Daniel, in Aspen was so persistent; I finally gave in and went to dinner with him. He was nice, and somewhat attractive in a computer geek kind of way, I just wasn’t that interested. I let him down easy, and yet he still remained just as persistent as before.

My time in Denver moved by in a blur. My bones screamed at me for torturing them with the bitter cold. I dated my neighbor Steven out of pure convenience. I was in the upstairs apartment, and he was below me, with a fireplace. We would sit in front of the blazing fire, drinking hot chocolate and cuddling up to stay warm. I told him from day one that this was all we could be; friends who happened to enjoy cuddling and kissing each other. He accepted it until he met a new girl at work, and his invitations for hot cocoa dates went out the window. I always did my best to avoid any type of relationship with people other than congenial working relationships that were necessary to maintain my employment status. So far I had not met anyone that was hard to leave other than the Campbells, and even that was bearable. I didn’t let myself get emotionally close enough to anyone so that it was easier on both parties when it was time for me to move on to my next journey.

My reminiscing caused me to lose track of which landmark was which, and I found myself passing the same group of guys I had danced with the night before. I jogged another ten minutes and then turned to head back to the rental house.
The second time I passed the group of guys, they hollered at me to stop and talk. I was in no such mood. I was drenched with sweat and eager for a hot shower to soothe my aching muscles. Instead, I waved to them and yelled out, “Next time maybe?”

One in particular seemed upset at my refusal to join them. I made a mental note to apologize with sincerity, without leading him on the next time I saw him. I would hate to give anyone the wrong idea about me. I was not the dating type of person. I tried it once, but soon learned that it was a waste of my time. “Because no one could or would measure up to the hero from my dreams.” I thought aloud.

The next morning, I woke up to Lauren and Melissa bouncing on my bed. “It is shopping time!” They giggled like prepubescent girls at a slumber party.
I hated to admit it to myself, but I was faintly excited about the shopping trip. More excited about their amusement than my own, but I would play the perfect part of a damsel in fashion distress. I would let them dress me up from head to toe, and would even join in the excitement when I would lead the shopping trip towards the dress I had dreamt of.

I was disappointed that he had not returned to me, for me to have another chance to get an explanation from him, but I would not let that ruin our day. I got dressed and came downstairs to find them already outside in the convertible with Melissa laying on the horn. “All right, all right, I am coming!” I yelled in response.

We went to store after store, they joked about me being their Atlantic Beach Barbie doll. Tanya pointed out that I could not be Barbie, but one of her friends rather, due to my jet-black hair. They all laughed about it as they tried to recall what Barbie’s friends names were. “Midge!” Melissa finally exclaimed. That put all three of them into a fit of hysterics.

We had only spent half of my clothing fund by lunchtime. I was hungry and tired, so I forced them against their wills to let me treat them to lunch. I promised that after our cheeseburgers, French fries, and milk shakes, I would endure another two hours worth of them playing dress up. They picked a lot of halter and tank tops, short shorts and miniskirts. These were the clothes you must wear to get the tips they kept reminding me.
I requested to shop for a few summer dresses for days off and they complied without any moans or groans. I found the most beautiful flowy yellow cotton dress. It was backless, and tied around my neck. Melissa and Lauren agreed that this was by far their favorite purchase thus far. I knew it would be, I had seen it before in one of my dreams.
Tanya found a silvery grey blue strapless dress that laced up the bodice and hugged my curves in all the right places. Finally, I found my third and final dress, and the last purchase for the day. They all agreed that the simple sea green dress was the perfect way to complete my new wardrobe.

By the end of our shopping trip we were all exhausted and extremely satisfied. Lauren and Melissa were already debating what I would wear for my first day on the clock. Tanya just rolled her eyes at them in the rear view mirror and turned the radio up full blast. I was happy to be in the front with Tanya. Sometimes Lauren and Melissa’s blatant enthusiasm was too much to handle.
I was wearing the yellow cotton dress, and walking along the beach outside the rental house. The moon was full, and the sky was clear. I saw him in the water and ran to him. My feet could no longer touch the ocean’s floor, and I was out too far to go back. He saw me then, my pale face reflected in the moonlight. He came to me, that same angry glare burning into me like fire. Instead of rushing me back to dry land like every other time, he lingered for only seconds, but felt like an eternity to me, and then brushed a loose strand of my hair behind my ears. I turned my lips towards his touch and grazed his hand with my lips. This upset him further, and he dragged me angrily through the water and onto the shore. He did not look back at me this time. He just walked away, and disappeared into the night.

The first dream faded away as a different one settled in.

It was Tanya on the beach this time. She was jogging early in the morning, enjoying her solitude as she made her way to her two mile marker- the blue house with the huge deck and swimming pool. She was only running four miles today instead of her usual six. There was a dark shadow hiding behind the house she was approaching. She waved to him in confusion, as if she knew him. She didn’t shrink back in fear as he ran out to meet her. It was when he tackled her to the ground and covered her mouth with his hands to stop any noise from escaping her lips that she felt any fear at all. I could see what was going on, could feel her emotions,, but I was not a participant in the dream, merely a witness, so I could not reach out to help her.

Thankfully, the same group of guys from the bar were also jogging the same path, and Tanya’s attacker heard their approach and got scared that he would get caught in the act. He hit Tanya over her head with a nearby rock and ran away from her as fast as he could. The guys heard her scream as the rock impacted her head, the red staining her golden hair. One of them had a cell phone and called for help while two of the others ran after the man in the shadows. The fourth man, a blonde with sea green eyes seemed very familiar to me. I studied him closer while waiting for the ambulance to show up for Tanya.

And then it was blank. The terrifying vision was over, and I had to debate what I was going to do with my knowledge of the impending future. I felt angry and protective, my fighter instincts were kicking in. I had no idea when or if Tanya planned on running today, so I threw myself into watchdog mode. I could not tell the girls about my gift, or curse as it sometimes was. I had to watch Tanya’s every move until I could find out who the man in the shadows was, and why Tanya did not feel threatened when she saw him.

I would ask Lauren, Melissa, and even Tanya about their dating history. We could create some kind of signal to use at work so that they could point the men out to me. This way, I would tell them, I would know that they were off limits. It would save me a lot of trouble of clearing my conquests by them prior to dating them.

The girls were actually excited by my suggestion. They had not guessed that I would be so eager to start playing the field. I laughed it off as simply a preventative measure. I was enjoying my life in the rental house with them, and I wanted to do my part to keep the peace and not let any man get in the way of our blooming friendships. Tanya challenged Melissa to running sprints instead of her usual jog, so I felt relief that she would not be attacked today. I let my guard down slightly, but kept my senses heightened.

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