Don't Wake Up

Sonia woke with a start, heart racing, bed sheets damp with sweat and clinging to her skin. Her body was frozen in a state of sleep paralysis, but she was able to wriggle her fingers. Little by little, she worked feeling back into her limbs until she could roll onto her side. The harsh red light from the alarm clock on her nightstand temporarily blinded her, and she blinked to clear her vision.

3:47 a.m.

  Another restless night. She rolled back over with a sigh and stared up at the ceiling. This time, the nightmare had started in the middle. She was already strapped to the cold metal table, the leather restraints digging into her wrists and ankles. She’d started frantically thrashing about and screaming for help, but she knew it was no use. No matter how hard she pulled or how loud she yelled, Sonia couldn’t break free and no one was coming.

Except this time, someone did come. Her eyes had been darting around the room in a desperate game of I Spy, trying to find something, anything, to help her out of this situation. The room was hardly bigger than a broom closet, so it didn’t take long to take inventory: cupboard, chair, table, trash can, wall clock. Nothing even remotely useful, and all too far out of reach to do any good anyway.

Just as she’d started to lift her head to try and see into the trash can, the doorknob began to turn. She froze mid-motion, holding her breath in anticipation. Could this be her salvation?

But as the mysterious visitor opened the door and came into view, that tiny shred of hope was immediately crushed, and the panic that had been bubbling inside her burst forth. 

“No, get away from me! Please, somebody help! HELP!” 

She threw every shred of energy she had into jerking her arms and legs as much as she could. It wasn’t getting her anywhere and she knew that, but her body was in full fight-or-flight reaction mode. There was nothing in her mind except for the desperate and overwhelming urge to escape.

In a few short steps, the stranger had reached her side. Towering over her and taking up most of the free space in the room was . . . her math professor, Mr. Hendricks. Although he was intimidatingly large in stature and usually looked grumpy most of the time, Mr. Hendricks didn’t usually instill this animalistic fear in her. Reflecting on it now in the comfort of her own bed, Sonia couldn’t help but chuckle at the ridiculousness of it. But in the claustrophobic setting of the nightmare, she had felt nothing but sheer terror all the way to her core.

The rest of the nightmare was a bit of a blur, whether because she couldn’t remember or was too afraid to try. Flashes of fragmented scenes flew through her mind as she tried to make sense of them.

Clammy, sausage-like fingers gripping her arms. The song “Livin’ La Vida Loca” by Ricky Martin playing in the next room. Mr. Hendricks laughing. Metal scraping against metal. The overpowering aroma of cleaning solution. Mr. Hendricks laughing. “Please God no. Why are you doing this to me?” The cold and indifferent glare of the ceiling light shining down upon her. Mr. Hendricks laughing. A captivating splash of red in the otherwise colorless room. And always, Mr. Hendricks laughing.

She could still hear that gut-wrenching sound ringing in her ears even now. A shudder coursed through her, and Sonia quickly sat up. She’d had enough of reliving that hell. It was much earlier than she needed to be up, but there was no way she was going back to sleep now. Sidling out to the kitchen, she turned on the coffee pot and started thinking about the day ahead. The smell of the coffee grounds was already working wonders on her mental state. She took a deep breath in as she rubbed gently at her wrists, trying to ease some unknown soreness that was starting to bother her.

               ____________________________________

The first place Sonia found herself for the day was the grocery store. She normally reserved grocery shopping for the weekend, but she had a special occasion to get ready for. The strange thing was she couldn’t seem to remember what it was. She just knew that something was supposed to happen, and she didn’t want to be caught unprepared. She was always forgetting plans so this was nothing new. 

In this particular instance, Sonia was in luck. She had a grocery list to work with so she wasn’t totally clueless. She’d remember what was coming eventually. In the meantime, she grabbed a cart and pulled out her list to see what was needed.

Salad, noodles, sauce, fruit, plates, cups, garbage bags, cupboard, chair, table -

“Wait, what?” Realizing she’d uttered that aloud, Sonia looked around to make sure no one was staring before glancing back at her list.

In her own handwriting, were the words ‘cupboard, chair, table, trash can, wall clock’. When had she even written this? It must have been while she was waiting for the coffee to brew this morning. The nightmare had still been lingering in her mind. She must have absentmindedly scribbled down some of the words she was thinking at the time. Weird.

At least now the list wasn’t as long as it looked. Sonia shrugged it off and headed for the produce section to grab the salad ingredients. She was thinking house salad was the way to go.

Twenty minutes later, she had managed to find everything she needed. A pint of ice cream may have also found its way into her cart, but she wasn’t about to go put it back. Standing in the checkout line, she looked around for something with which to distract herself. Looking at the person next to her, she opted for small talk.

“Don’t you just hate the music they play in grocery stores? It’s always the same old songs played on repeat.”

Instead of responding, the man gave her a strange look and turned away. Apparently, she’d offended the one Ricky Martin fan in the store. She went back to glancing through the magazine racks while she waited, humming to herself the chorus of “Livin’ La Vida Loca”.

___________________________________________

Some hours later, Sonia was sitting in the school library surrounded by a stack of books. She’d lost track of time and could feel a headache coming on. This lack of sleep was really starting to get to her. Maybe she should research sleep disorders while she was here. There might be something that could help, and, if nothing else, it would be a lot more interesting than her current reading material. She stacked together her pile of books and brought them to the front.

The librarian behind the desk didn’t bother looking up from his novel as Sonia approached. Whatever he was reading, it seemed to have all his attention. She cleared her throat to make her presence known. The man still didn’t budge. Well that was rude. There was a bell sitting on the counter and Sonia decided to use it. 

Nothing. Not even a flinch. She didn’t know why, but the librarian’s ignorance was starting to make her panic. Why couldn’t anyone hear her? Her breaths started coming out in short bursts and she could feel herself starting to hyperventilate.

“Please, I need help!”

Her plea had come out louder than she’d meant it to, and her cheeks flushed in embarrassment, but at least it had done the trick. In addition to stares from some of her fellow students, Sonia had managed to attract the librarian’s menacing glare as he slowly pulled himself away from his book. 

There was something familiar about that look, about the way that it sucked you in, pulling you deeper and deeper into darkness, until you hardly knew who you were anymore. As she held his stare, she found herself drowning in a memory.

“Can I help you with something?”

Sonia blinked and the haunting look on his face was gone. Now he just looked bored. “Yes, I’m sorry. I’m looking for books on sleep disorders.”

The librarian smirked to himself as if to say that, if anyone needed sleep around here, it was definitely her. He made a few quick clicks on his keyboard, wrote a number down on a scrap of paper, and then handed it over to her. 

“Section 610.” His response clearly served as both an answer and a dismissal, so she thanked him and went on her way.

Once she got to the right row of shelves, she started tracing her fingers along the spines, looking for any that had to do with sleep. Squatting onto her knees, she found what she needed on the bottom row. There were actually a surprising number of them. Books on sleep studies, insomnia, interpretation of dreams, even the history of sleep. She read through the titles to see if any looked useful.

“Sleep No More” . . . “What are Your Dreams Telling You?” . . . “Is this Real Life?” . . . “How Sleep Studies Work” . . . “It’s Only a Dream” . . . “Open Your Eyes” . . . “WAKE UP SONIA!”

She jerked her fingers back from the last title as if it had bit her. There was no way she had read that right. Either that or someone was messing with her. But no one could have known she would be looking at these particular books.

Hesitantly, she reached out her hand and pulled the title from the shelf, afraid to confirm what she’d just seen. Blazed across the cover in bright green letters were the words “WAKE UP SOONER!”

What a relief. As she placed the book back on the shelf, her phone buzzed. It was Jackie wondering where she was. Looks like her search would have to wait for another time. Meanwhile, the pain in her wrists seemed to be growing. Maybe she was getting carpal tunnel. She added that to her list of things to research later.

___________________________________________

“Earth to Sonia, hello?”

The sound of her friend’s voice brought Sonia back to the present moment where they were sitting in the university cafeteria grabbing a bite to eat.

“Sorry, I must’ve spaced out for a minute. What were you saying?”

Jackie just rolled her eyes and kept going. “I was asking about the English exam. How do you think you did?”

“Oh. I’m pretty sure I passed. I did the assigned reading so it wasn’t a big deal.”

Actually, Sonia had already forgotten which book the test had been on, but she didn’t want Jackie to give her another strange look. She really was spacing out today.

“Well, that makes one of us.”

“That’s because you were binge-watching The Bachelorette instead of studying.”

“Yeah, yeah. You can remind me of that before the next exam.”

Sonia silently made a mental note to do just that.

“So,” Jackie began again. With that one word, she knew her friend had something on her mind that she’d been wanting to bring up.

“Have you still been having those nightmares?”

Leave it to Jackie to spend no more than an hour with her and know exactly what was going on. She couldn’t hide anything from her. That’s what made them best friends.

Sonia sighed. “Is it that obvious?”

“Well, you haven’t heard half of what I’ve said, and you’ve been nervously picking at your fingernails this whole time. Plus, you’ve spent the last ten minutes trying to drink through your straw with the wrapper still on. So you’re either majorly sleep-deprived or on some kind of drug that you’re not sharing with me.”

Sonia looked down at her cup and realized Jackie was right. No wonder she was so thirsty.

“I just wish I knew how to make them stop. I can’t even remember how they started in the first place.” She rubbed at her neck in frustration as she said this and let her head hang low. It was maddening!

“Well, maybe that’s your problem.”

“What do you mean?” Sonia glanced back up at her friend.

“Maybe you need to know how they started in order to make them stop.”

“But didn’t you just hear me? I can’t remember. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

“Exactly!”

Sonia gave Jackie a deadpan stare. Now they were just talking in circles. This was definitely not helping.

Putting her hands up in a defensive gesture, Jackie said, “Just hear me out. Haven’t you ever woken up from a dream that you wanted to remember? But the more you try to remember it, the more you forget it. You’re just trying too hard!”

Okay, that part made sense. “So what should I do instead?”

“Just stop. Stop trying to remember so hard and let it come to you when your mind is ready.”

“Alright then Yoda. You may have solved part of my problem, but until my ‘mind is ready’, what do I do the next time I have a nightmare?”

“That’s the easy part.” Jackie showed off a devilish grin as she said this and leaned in close, looking Sonia square in the eyes. Sonia leaned in as well, eager to hear what Jackie was going to say.

“The next time you’re strapped to that table and that bastard gets near, I don’t care if you’ve got nothing but your own teeth and fingernails to use. You give him hell. You hear me Sonia? Give him hell.”

_________________________________________

She was still thinking about Jackie’s words when she walked through the door of her apartment that evening. That girl could be real nasty when she wanted to. One thing was for sure, she would not want to get on her bad side. She was just starting to ask herself who would win in a fight, Jackie or a grizzly bear, when Sonia realized that someone was in her apartment. She stopped in the middle of hanging up her jacket and took a better look around.

Distracted from earlier, she’d missed the signs when she first walked in, but the evidence was clear. Unknown jacket hanging on the peg, extra pair of shoes by the door, light left on in the bedroom, and was that the radio playing? What kind of burglar played music when breaking into someone’s home? Just as she was starting to question her sanity for the millionth time today, her mystery guest walked out of the kitchen.

“Mom!” She ran up and gave her the biggest hug she could manage. It had only been a week since she’d last seen her, but for some reason it felt important to hold on to her as long as she could.

“You didn’t forget I was coming did you?”

Silence.

“Well,” she replied knowingly, untangling herself from her daughter’s tight embrace, “luckily you didn’t forget the groceries for tonight.” She gave Sonia a forgiving grin as she walked back into the kitchen.

Of course! That was the big event she had been trying to remember, her mother’s retirement dinner. Her brother was supposed to join them after hockey practice and they were going to toast to her successful 35-year reign in the nursing field. It really was quite the accomplishment. She couldn’t help grinning with pride as she turned to walk toward the source of the mouthwatering scent coming from the next room.

Scraaaaaaaape.

She stopped moving. That sound. She knew that sound.

Scraaaaaaaape.

How did she know that sound? Where was it coming from?

Scraaaaaaaape.

It sounded like it was all around her. Every surface seemed to echo that sound, the echoes bouncing off one another, until they converged into one razor-thin blade of noise pointed right at her heart.

That’s when her mother walked out of the kitchen. She’d come back out to see why Sonia hadn’t come to help. She was holding a knife in one hand and a sharpening rod in the other, and her apron was already covered in big red spaghetti stains. Only it wasn’t her mother. And those weren’t spaghetti stains.

Sonia felt the bottom drop out from under her as everything came rushing back in a flood. It all made sense, how she’d been feeling all day, skipping around from one scene to the next, unable to remember how she’d gotten there, why she kept seeing things that didn’t make sense, even the time on her broken watch.

That night, this night, she was supposed to come home for her mother’s dinner, but she’d left her notes at school. She’d turned around to go get them, was in the parking garage, and Mr. Hendricks, he -

“No no no! This is real! It’s not a dream!”

She was waving her arms in front of her as if trying to physically ward off the memories, when she noticed large red blister marks on both her wrists that weren’t there before. And down on her shirt, a bloodstain was starting to form. Cupboard, chair, table, trash can, wall clock. The volume on the radio got louder and louder as Ricky Martin rocked out about going insane.

Sonia screamed, shutting her eyes and blocking her ears with her palms, doing her best to shut everything out.

“I’m awake! I’m awake!”

All at once, she felt someone firmly grasp her shoulder and something cold splashed her face. The world smelled like bleach.

She sputtered and opened her eyes. Cold metal table. Leather restraints. Clock stuck at 3:47. And there above her, boring into her with his dark, soulless eyes, Mr. Hendricks. And that god-awful laugh.

Suddenly, it wasn’t fear that she felt, but white-hot burning rage. Tugging against her restraints, she realized that her right wrist was loose. She must’ve been pulling at it even in her sleep.

It may have just been a dream, but Jackie’s words still rang true and they floated up to find her now.

Teeth? Check. Nails? Check. Now it was time to give him hell.