The Nightmare

He looked up just in time to see the hull of the Ferrari buckle as a deafening roar echoed through his ears. His body was suddenly blown backwards by a wave of heat. The wind was knocked out of him as he landed hard on the cemetery lawn. It seemed like everything was moving in slow motion as he fought to regain his breath. Suddenly, he realized the horror of what transpired, but the constant ringing in his ears prevented him from hearing as he yelled her name.

“Courtney! No!” Derek yelled as he quickly sat up in bed. The thunder and lightning crackled through the night as he began to realize where he was. He took in a deep breath trying to slow the heart that was thumping against his chest. He could feel his eyes filling with tears. It’s just a dream. 

He closed his eyes trying to erase the images from his mind. He swallowed the lump in his throat and took another deep breath. His heart was still racing. He looked over at the clock with disappointment. Ninety minutes had passed from the first time the nightmare played. He lowered his head in submission with a sigh. His eyes felt heavy but he was afraid to sleep. He could feel the tears squeezing through his eyelids when he blinked. He rubbed the back of his neck and swung his feet onto the floor. He hoped he had something in the kitchen that would assume the responsibility of ensuring a good night’s rest.

The bed resumed its natural shaped as he stood and began dragging his feet across the room. He would trudge into the kitchen and drown his sorrows in something. It did not matter what, just as long as it would keep his mind from remembering that horrible nightmare.

The lightning illuminated the house just as a sharp boom of thunder bellowed outside. He gave a brief glance at the large bay window of the living room as he slowly dragged himself towards the kitchen. Large drops of rain pelted the glass as the Atlantic frothed its way closer to the wooden deck of the house.

His eyes burned when he flicked the kitchen light switch on. He squinted allowing his pupils to adjust. His hand reached for the refrigerator door as the images from his dream haunted him again. He tried to distract himself by calling out his choice of poisons, but the refrigerator could only muster orange juice, milk or water. He needed something stronger.

“Get it together Chase,” he chastised out loud.

He took in a deep breath as he closed the refrigerator. He looked around the kitchen and despite the blurriness; he found his medicine on a kitchen counter by the oven. He walked over and ripped the cap off the half empty bottle of bourbon. He took a big swig of the sweet liquor, allowing it to tingle as it rolled down his throat. He could feel the warmth stirring in his belly. He closed his eyes as he clutched the bottle of liquor.

He slowly trudged into the living room. He took another swig before sitting down on the couch. The lightning crackled simultaneously with the thunder’s bellow. He closed his eyes tightly and tried to relax resisting the temptation to cry. It would not be long for the bourbon to take affect and keep the bad dreams away while he slept.

He wanted to drown the images that plagued his mind. He took another swallow of Bourbon to ensure he did just that. His eyes quickly opened as the storm’s rampage grew louder. He looked down at the coffee table that was slowly becoming a blur. The bourbon was preparing for battle. He squinted as something caught his eye. It was a manila envelope.

He took one more swallow of liquor before picking the envelope up and opening it. His champion against the haunting images from his dream also disarmed him from holding back his emotions. He could no longer resist the urge to cry when he saw the contents of the envelope. The pictures were of her and him hugging each other and smiling. 

She placed her arm around his waist and towards the photographer. “Greg, will you take our picture?”

The photographer gave a big smile as he picked up another camera. “Sure thing Ms. Lathaye.”

“You can play now,” she said as her photographer took aim with the camera. “But wait. The day will come when the old dog will need to dig up some bones and get a six-bedroom dog house.”

They both smiled as he snapped a couple of shots. He gave a thumb up. “I’ll have these developed this afternoon Ms. Lathaye.”

She nodded with a smile of approval as the photographer went back to checking his equipment. The warm summer breeze coming from the ocean waved her hair into her face as she turned to face him.

“You know Courtney,” Derek began as she moved the strands of blonde from her cheek. He grabbed the hands of the model and cupped him with his. The diamond charm bracelet hung loosely as Courtney looked into his hazel eyes. “You were never a bone that was buried.”

He growled softly as the next memory ran through his mind.

“What are you doing?” she asked trying to get a better view.

His heart raced when his finger scraped the wet, sandy velvet of the box. He clawed at it and yanked it from its sandy grave. He opened it and presented it to her. He swallowed hard and took in a deep breath. “I just wanted to make sure that there’ll be no objections at the wedding when I ask that special someone to marry me.”

Tears formed in her eyes as the ring sparkled in front of her. “Derek?”

“Courtney Lathaye,” he began taking the ring out of the box. “Since the day I met you, I’ve always loved you. Will you marry me?”

She wiped a tear from her cheek as she nodded feverishly. “You didn’t even need to ask. Yes!” 

His heart thumped frantically against his rib cage. A tear was forming in his eye as he gently placed the ring on her finger. She gave a quick glance at it before she was racing into his arms and kissing him. The blanket draped loosely behind her as he cradled her waist.

He gave one last thought about the promise he made to himself about keeping love at bay before sending it to the deepest recesses of his mind. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you too.”

  His body jumped reacting to the dream of the Ferrari exploding. His ears could hear the boom of exploding glass and metal. He could still hear the crackling of the flames that consumed the import’s fiberglass body. What he could not hear was himself calling her name.

“No!” he yelled throwing the picture down onto the coffee table. He arms swung wildly as he launched the empty bottle of liquor into the air. It crashed against the wall splintering into little shards of colored glass. His tears ran down his face as he looked at the card that was a reminder that it was not just a dream and that she was taken from him. The unfolded card sat next to his gun. He refused to touch it, but read the words scrawled across it.

I’m coming for you Derek Chase… 

The living room lit up as the rain applauded another well-choreographed performance of the storm’s rampage. His teary eyes wandered back to the picture of the two of them. He stared at the picture for a long time as he replayed the events leading him up to his downfall. How he wished it had been him rather than her. How he wished he could share one more moment with her. How he wished something stronger than a bottle of bourbon could take away the pain.

Then his eyes darted to the answer as the storm’s rage seemed to dissipate. His Glock sat next to the message of death and he was startled when his eyes followed the trembling hand reaching for it. It was his trembling hand.

The lightning crackled one last time as he jerked his hand backwards. He tucked it into his body and took in a deep breath. Dammit! Get it together Chase! He thought as the thunder roared softly. You will get through this!

“I can’t!” he yelled as his arms quickly swept everything from the coffee table and onto the floor.

Yes. You will.

His subconscious was working to repair his soul. He felt empty without her and blamed himself for her sudden departure from this reality. She would only exist in his memories. Damning memories that plague his nightmares and forced him to wander about as a drunken shell of a man with nothing to live for.

Yes. You will get through this.

He stood and tried to make his way back to his room. He would try to sleep one more time. His body staggered and he was forced to lean against his bedroom’s doorframe. She was gone and there was no bringing her back. She would forever exist in his memories.

The sudden warmth in his belly was somewhat comforting, as the bourbon had made a valiant resolve to resume the fight. Once more, the haunting images resonated. He sank to the floor, closed his heavy eyelids and allowed himself to cry one last time.