Hours Till Dawn Chapter 1

    I knew I was dreaming because the edges of my vision were black and everything was blurry-like someone had just come up and knocked me on my ass. It looked like I was always moving forward, but with each movement I only went backwards. The beginnings of my dreams were always like this. Nothing is in focus enough for me to tell what's going on, everything I see gets clouded and my head feels clogged, like I have a cold. I can tell I'm running, but I don't know where. Slowly, I feel myself settling into the image. Into the re-created model of me made by my mind. I feel my shoes landing on the soil beneath my feet, and the vibrations of landing shooting up my legs with each stride. My vision settles and I'm finally in it. In my body. It's dark outside, fallen tree limbs crack under the pressure of my feet, the wilderness zooms past me in a tangled mess of unfocused green and blues mixed together. I was going faster than I'd ever felt before, I felt weightless. Nothing could touch me. I was free.

It felt so good. So right. The only thing about having those kinds of dreams is, they can abruptly make a change of plans. Your mind tricks you, giving you a black canvas of imagination and you can't control what it turns into.
  Darkness filled my vision. I was lost. I was gone. Blinding light swamped my eyes. I was in excruciating pain. It started on my face, my skin felt like it was being peeled off slowly. I wanted to yell out, but I couldn't. I was paralyzed from the inside out. My core was stuck in one place. All I could see was the huge, burning light, torturing me.

  I woke, a growl erupted from my mouth and echoed down the room of my small apartment. Cool sweat dripped down my face and neck. The necklaces that hung on me bathed in it. My jaw hung loose and my eyes went wide. Everything had felt so real-the physical pain was unimaginable.

  I looked around, I could see the faint, glowing outline of all the few items I carried in my apartment because of the moon shining through the skylights. I let my body relax, I knew where I was. I wiped my hand over my mouth and sighed, my back curving, head leaning down. I stayed there in moments of silence while my heart calmed down, it was beating the hell out of my chest. My spine tingled all the way down, the hairs on my arms stood up and goosebumps ran across my skin. I got the distinct feeling that someone else was here with me. My eyes darted around, searching.

    Pocket knife to my right, baseball bat to my left . . .

I met the eyes of my visitor, but only the eyes, everything else was engulfed in shadows. My body involuntarily edged backwards as I stared into it's deep, gleaming eyes. I kept staring back at them, back at those dangerous, lust filled eyes. I felt like they fed off my stare, their's becoming more intense the more I looked at them. Thoughts of what I could do ran through my head as shock surged within me and with shaking hands I turned on the bed lamp next to me. The eyes were gone. I steadily stood up out of bed, grabbed the knife and walked around, turning all the lights on. The front doorknob was untouched. Window's were fine. Nothing was broken or stolen.
    
Except for my soul.

I laughed aloud, an empty, shake-off-your-nerves kind of laugh. The noise filled the  space. I opened my fridge, not hungry at all. I felt my hands still shake. I grabbed an apple and took a bite as I walked back to my bed, set the apple and pocket knife on my bedside table, turned the lamp off and pulled my black comforter over my legs, putting my arms behind my head. I scratched the back of my head and ran my fingers through my hair, I'd need it cut again.

  How the hell did they get in here? And what was it?
  You were just seeing things . . . You just woke up from a vivid dream.
  Yeah, but they looked right at me. Into me.
  Go to sleep.

More thoughts wandered through my head until I finally went back to sleep, experiencing a dreamless rest of the night.

***

I opened my eyes. I saw early morning sun trying to break through the gray clouds of this gloomy day as I tilted my head up, cranking my neck and peering through the skylights. The hoarse grumble of my throat clearing sounded in my room. My chest rose as I took a deep breath. I yawned and reached for my watch at the side table next to me.

  5:30 A.M.

The plan to sleep in didn't turn out as I had hoped. I rubbed my eyes with my hands and yawned. I stood up out of my king-like air mattress and stretched my arms out. My bare feet landed on the light brown wooden floor boards as I walked over to my undersized kitchen. I had to go through it to find my bathroom. I washed up, slapping some water on my face. Waking up had always been a trouble for me. Probably because I went to bed so late.

  
    Gotta get ready for work, I guess.

Working everyday, seven days a week from six in the morning to nine in the morning as small grocery store clerk wasn't exactly what got my blood flowing.
I had to keep reminding myself that I needed the money if I wanted to eventually do what I was meant to, but after working there since I got out of high school, I wasn't so reassured. I opened the broken door to my closet full of limited clothing. A couple pairs of jeans, a few t-shirts and a couple nice long-sleeved shirts that I only wore for a special occasion, which never happened. I took out a pair of dark jeans, a  white t-shirt, grey sweatshirt and put on my black and white converse sneakers. I grabbed my wallet and keys and headed out the door. I didn't mind trying to find something to eat, I usually never had breakfast. The idea of eating never really appealed to me, even when I was a child.

  The news had said the sun may finally break through for a few days and show some signs of June. It wasn't likely. Although it was nearing summer, this town had always been dark. The only sun we ever got was in the summertime itself and that's what everyone looked forward to.
  I again briefly went into my bathroom to see if I was presentable enough. I looked at myself in the mirror---at my dark brown, recently slept on hair. I ran the comb through my hair a couple of times and it made the front of it it's usual tousled self. I saw the anxious creases in my forehead. My raised, almost blocky, brown eyebrows. I looked at my straight nose and my average sized lips. Dark five o' clock shadow was spread across the lower half of my face. Lastly my pale blue eyes that seemed dull today. I didn't look at myself that much, they could have been like this everyday.

I drove down to one of the only grocery stores in town. I parked, grimacing at the front doors of the store as I got out of my car. It was already seven-thirty when I arrived at the grocery store. We were a small town, and this was the closest thing we had to a CostCo.
  "Put on a happy-face!" I reminded myself aloud. My lips quirked up into a fake smile that fooled everyone except for me. The sliding doors spread apart as I stepped onto the black, dirty mat in front of the store. I walked inside carelessly, the isles with many different colors slowly moving past me. I continued down towards the fruit section.

  "Oh hey Leon, Jimmy wants to see you." Habeford, a fellow employee announced to me while he took oranges and put them on the rack.
  "Okay, thanks."

We all called him Habeford, but no one knew why, except for Jimmy, our boss, probably did. And Jimmy wanted to see me. Great. I looked down at my watch, not for the time but to help with the nervousness that was starting to spread from my gut to the rest of my body.
  I stepped down the hall, aisles of various food stood on either side of me, all the colors blending together as I strode past. When I came to the grey door in the back that read EMPLOYS ONLY on it. I opened it and stepped into a small hallway that led to all of our extra products. On the right was another door. I walked to it, going straight into Jimmy's office, knocking on the door after I was already inside.

  Jimmy didn't look up from his newspaper, his old face crinkled into a frown, lips pressed into a tight line and his large, thick-rimmed glasses pressed against his face.
  He's pissed today.
Not to say he's not pissed everyday.
He picked up his battered coffee mug with a withered hand and sipped, an annoying slurping sound filled the room.
  I cleared my throat.
  "Yeah, yeah, I know you're there Leon. Lemme finish this article."
That was Jimmy for you. Always making other people wait for his ridiculous reasons.
  He set his paper down and looked up at me, his unruly, grayish-white eyebrows pulling together uneasily.
  "Sit down, Leon." He said slow and controlled, almost commanding.
I pulled up a chair lazily and sat on the other side of his tidy desk. Everything on it was aligned perfectly, I wouldn't be surprised if he had OCD.

  "You wanted to speak with me, sir?"
  "I'm assuming you know why, don't you?"
I paused, ". . . Because of my---" He wouldn't let me finish my answer to his promptly asked question.
  "You know, here at Arlene and James, we've always been on top of our employs, making sure they're always here to help and serve our customers, making sure that our customers are satisfied to the fullest. Do you know why?"
He stared at me, "Uhh . . . So our customers will come back and spend more?"
  "Exactly. They'll be satisfied and we'll be satisfied. And we will still be in business."
    
    More like he'll be satisfied. I thought to myself.

He stood up, walked over to a large, black and white picture of his great grandfather standing in front of the same building we were in with his wife, " But what happens," he continued, "If our employees don't come in on time? What if they are hours late and no one can cover they're shift? Then what happens to our business?"
  He returned his gaze back to me.
  Screw this guy, I thought.
I didn't respond, just stared back at his old, leathery face.
  "Let me get to the point. Leon, you have been late consecutively, for weeks. You're the one who wanted all the hours you can get and I can't have someone like you working here, it will ruin my business."
I continued looking at him, raising my eyebrow, as if leading him onto say what I expected from the moment I walked in.
  "You're fired." He declared, standing tall with his decision, his chest puffing out like he was so proud of himself. I stood up, walked over to his door, putting my hand on the tarnished silver handle, "Thanks," I said while I walked out.

I sat in my car and stared at the steering wheel.
  "Great day so far, what else could happen?" I mused sarcastically.
I rested my elbows on the steering wheel, my hands pressed against my face, trying to stay calm even though my body was shaking from the inside out.
  I jumped when my phone started to buzz in my pocket and the ringtone went off. I yanked it out of my pocket, flipping it open and answered.

  "Hello?" I said into the receiver, probably pretty unpleasant.
  "Hey Leon, it's Ted . . . Ted Mitchell?"
Ahh Ted. My high school buddy. He was the only friend that I actually enjoyed talking to, the only one who would listen to me. That is until I dropped out. We really haven't spoken since then, and that was a few years ago.
  "Hi Ted, how are you? Haven't heard from you for a while."
  "Yeah, I know . . . I'm good. How about you?"
  "I'm fine." I could feel my jaw tighten with agitation not because of Ted, just because of life. And talking to him brought up a whole slew of memories I had tried to forget about.
  "Fine is . . . Well fine is just fine. I wasn't sure if I was gonna reach you, I mean I wasn't sure if you had the same number and all. Anyway, you're probably wondering why I called."
  "Sure."

I wanted to keep this conversation limited since I really wasn't in the mood.
  "Well, earlier today I was goin' through a box of my old things when I found this baseball, I didn't recognize it at first but then I remembered that it was ours."
  "Ours?" I asked, curious. It didn't quite ring a bell yet.
  "Yeah, remember, we'd go out and toss it around in the field out back of the school. Talk about chicks, our problems, anything."
It was starting to come back to me and it made me lighten up a little.
  "Yep, I remember now. We had some good times." I chuckled slightly, smiling.
  "Well that's why I gave you a call. When I saw the baseball, I kinda had this funny feeling. Not a bad one or anything, just funny. So I thought I'd give you a call, see what you're doin' tonight. Sharon took the kids on this mini-vacation and I have the house to myself. We could just hang. You know, catch up?"

  I took a deep breath in and held it.
     This day has already been bad enough, why not just bag everything else and go hang with my bud? We'll have a few beers, relax, talk. It'll take the edge off.
  Yeah, but it's been a long time since you've seen him. He's probably changed . . . He has a family now . . . You're still stuck where you guys last saw each other. He's moved on, you haven't.
  
  "Leon, you there?"
Ted's voice in the receiver broke my train of thoughts and the silence. I exhaled.
  "Yeah, I'm here."
  "Well, whatya think? Are you doing anything tonight?" Ted asked, his voice anxious.
I took a moment to respond. As much as I wanted to see him, I really didn't want to intrude on his life, which seemed to be going better than mine.
  "Listen, Ted, I already had something planned tonight man. I'm sorry. Raincheck, okay?."
  "Ahh that's alright Leon. Yeah, I guess we'll have to catch up some other time. It was good to talk to you though. Hey, are you still doin' music?"
His tone suddenly went from slow and sad to bouncy and happy.

  "Barely. I've been trying though, you know whenever I can. Trying to get financially settled first, you know? What about you? How's the dentist thing going?"
  "Just fine. As boring as I thought it would be, but that's what I love about it.  I rarely have to do anything but look at peoples teeth now a-days. My assistants do the rest of the cleaning stuff. On occasion, I'll have to put fillings in or maybe crown a few - - - I should probably stop talking about dentistry, shouldn't I?"
  "Yeah. That would probably be best."
We both chuckled a little.
A few quick moments of silence passed. Neither of us knew what to say.
  "Well I should let you go. As I said it was good to talk to you. Take care Leon."
  "Yeah, you too Ted."
I hung up.

I put my keys in the ignition and started my car, driving back towards my apartment.
   Once I unlocked my apartment door and stepped inside, something surprised me that topped being fired from my only job.
  A frown sprawled across my face as I stared at a letter addressed to me that was slid under my door.

  Was that from person who came in last night?
  No, that was part of my dream . . . Wasn't it?

I bent over, lifting up the letter recognizing the handwriting but not remembering why. I tore the envelope open and unfolded the lightly stained letter enclosed. It read:

    Leon,
It's you're mother, Carrie. I know that you probably never read the letters I've sent you or listened to the messages I've left, but this one is more important than the others, so please read it. I didn't call you're cell phone because we couldn't pay the phone bill.
  You're father's dead. He died this morning. His liver shut down from drinking so much before. We went to the hospital last night. They tried to save him, pumping fluids into his body for his last hours. I understand if you don't want to see me or him or respond, I just thought you should know.
You're father loved you, whether you believe it or not. He told me to leave you with his guitar and what he had left of his savings . . .

I had to stop, I couldn't read anymore. I crumpled the letter up and dropped it onto the floor, my left hand balled into a fist pushed against my forehead. I took a deep breath in and held it. When I released it, I put my fist down. I focused on a point in the distance: a painting one of my friends did for my birthday. I replayed the lyrics of my favorite song in my head, trying anything to distract myself.
The firm banging on my door interrupted my repeating thoughts, my head raised and I frowned.
  Who the hell could that be?
I walked over to my door and opened it. Standing in my doorway was a smiling UPS guy. A guitar-shaped box resting against his brown uniformed side.

  "I have a package for Leon J---"
I cut in, skipping my introduction to myself, "Yeah, that's me."
  "Alright . . ." he continued while pulling out a clipboard with a pen attached, "Please sign here and here and one more over here." He seemed to be pointing at random places on the paper. I felt my eye twitch as I signed the papers. For some reason this guy was really pissing me off.

  "Could you just give me my package and go?" I interrupted just as he was about to say his good-bye speech.
  "Sure. Here you go." He passed me the guitar box and walked away. I heard the word Jackass pass through his lips as he left.
  I took the box in and slammed the door behind me, let the guitar drop to the floor and headed back over to the counter.
"Lucky me." I said aloud as I spotted a piece of paper, pen and envelope all sitting next to each other. I stepped over to it, took the pen and wrote:
Carrie,
My father was a drunk who came home every night after work and beat you. From 7 years old I watched it happen knowing I couldn't do anything about it. When I was 14, I tried. He told me never to do something like that again or he was going to beat me too.
  He deserved this.
Leon.
  I folded up the paper, my lips a hard line, and put it in the envelope, leaving the cover blank, then set it down on the counter. I found the other envelope and looked inside. I pulled out two one-hundred dollar bills. I stuck them in my return envelope. Feeling sick to my stomach, I picked up my cell phone. The apple I had taken a bite from had turned from the yellowish green color where my bite marks were to a putrid brown. I walked back over to the counter picked up my letter and left my apartment.
  I started my car and drove to the only hospital in town. I doubted myself for going there because I knew I'd never leave with giving the letter to her.

When I arrived, I drove into the grey, cement parking structure and parked. I got out of the car and locked it.
There's nothing valuable in there anyway.
I traveled across the sidewalk, then through the sliding entrance doors. I was shocked when I felt all the air being sucked out of the place. It was lifeless in there. Everything was quiet. I spotted the over-weight receptionist who was almost falling asleep to my left. I stepped over to her.

  "How can I help you sir?" she asked, nasally.
  "Yes, I'm here to see---"
I was interrupted by the calling of my name,
  "Leon?"

I turned to my right, only to see my mother standing there, her hands over her mouth.
  "Yeah, mom, it's me." I replied as I walked slowly over to her, my arms spreading awkwardly, preparing for the incoming hug.
  "Oh, Leon!" she gasped and wrapped her thin arms around me.
I wrapped mine around her, trying not to crush her one-hundred pound frame.

  "You came! You're here!" she exclaimed, her throat going dry, I felt wet tears dripping down through my sweatshirt.
  "Yeah, I'm here. But I'm here for you, not for him. I . . . I don't want to see him."
  "That's okay hun." she sobbed, and I cradled her.
Two hours later, I sat in my car, still parked in the parking garage of the hospital, fiddling with my letter in my hands, my mother's words running through my head.

   Will you do something for me please? Will you play at Syd's bar tonight. Will you use your father's guitar, please? Do it for me?

Please?

Please?

Please?

Please?

Please?

I heard my mother's plead track through my head until I finally hit the stirring wheel with my hand. I told her I would just to make her happy. Just to see that faint smile appear on her face. I couldn't understand how she could even care for my father after what he did to her for so long. She said that after I left my father stopped drinking and became sober. I knew he was still the same man though. He always would be.

  I stuck my car keys into the ignition and turned my car on, setting the letter in the passenger's seat. Syd's bar was on the edge of town. Past it was open road and more of the dark green forests that filled our town. It was the most popular spot in town too-always packed in the evenings. My father had been a longtime friend of Syd, the owner. He'd usually ask me to play there, especially on Ladies Night. I drove to the bar, ripped open the letter and took out the two hundred dollars, pushing them into my pocket. I walked into the bar.

  "Hey Leon." Syd, who was standing behind the bar greeted me as I stepped inside.
  "Hey Syd." I returned and approached him, putting my hands on the bar table.
  "Your Mom dropped by earlier - She said I might be seeing you later . . . And everything's all set up for you tonight. So what time you think you coming in?"
  "Uhh," I started while looking around, "Around seven okay with you?"
  "Sure, sounds good."
I reached my hand into my pocket and pulled out the two hundred dollars.

  "Hey, I want you to have this - buy your kids something nice with it."
I set the money on the bar and slid it over to Syd.
  He looked at me, frowning.
  "Umm, sorry but I can't take this from you . . .I just wouldn't feel right."
I stopped him there, "No, please, take all of it, otherwise it's going down the toilet."
  "Uhh, alright." He slid is hand over it and pulled it back, shoving it in his pocket.
"And Leon, sorry about your father."
  "Yeah, I know. See you tonight." I said and turned around, walking out.
  "See ya."

As I started to walk out the door I was stopped by the startlingly direct voice of Ari, a waitress that I had been fond of for some time.
  "Oh, hey Leon!" She spoke and I could hear her words rolling perfectly of her cherry-glossed lips.
I turned back around, looking at her cute face. She would always serve me whenever I came in. Ari had a certain innocence about her. I always got the impression that she had the best life. I'd wanted to ask her out, but dragging her into the life I never wanted would've made it even worse.

  At the moment, she had black hair with blond highlights throughout it. She was always changing her hair color, not because she was insecure but because she felt like it. At least that was the impression that I got. Ari never came across as a person with a lot of trouble because of her bubbly personality.

  "Hey Ari." I couldn't help but smile.
  "So, you're going to be playing here tonight?"
  "Yeah, yeah I am. Only for a short while."
She smiled sweetly, her chocolate-brown eyes full and bright.
  "I can't wait! It will be nice to see you sing and play."
  "Thanks." I smiled brighter. Ari seemed to have the select ability to make the best come out of people. It did feel good to actually smile again.
  "See you tonight."
  "Yep."

***

I stepped back into my car, checking my watch. I was surprised, it was already one. Since the gig would be at seven tonight, I had plenty of time. I drove home after that, got into bed endless thoughts running around in my head.

  Why do you have to be so hard on the outside?
  Because things have happened that have made me that way, I feel weak or vulnerable without it, I feel like I could get attacked at any moment if I put my guard down.
  Well that's just stupid and you know it. C'mon, get free. You gotta let it go someday, or you're gonna die with lots of regrets.
  I know. The thing is, I already feel dead.

I fell asleep after that, I was transported into my vivid imagination. I felt it all. The warm draft of air coming toward me, drawing me in further and further into the dimly lit room. The smell of vanilla and rose filled my nostrils. I walked into a the room. Suddenly,  candles lit. A tattered, metallic bathtub sat in the middle of the room.

  Afraid and enticed by it, I edged closer.
Rose petals of a beautiful dark red floated easily on the water. I looked closer, a woman's faint, skinny outline lay in the water with the roses. Her mass of dark black, wet hair floated next to her with the roses. She turned her body around and faced me. I peered over her, curiously. I saw my mother's face, she smiled at me. I smiled in return.

Then her smile morphed. There was my father, his sick, evil grin gleaming at me. Every emotion came bubbling up inside me, ready to explode. The face morphed again and it was someone who I had never seen in my life before, but somehow I knew her. She had a burning desire for me in her eyes. It engulfed me and I was left alone, sitting, waiting.

When I woke up, it was 6:30.
"Shit."
I cleaned up, sprayed some cologne on myself and tidied up my hair a bit. I took the partially bitten apple from this morning and ate the rest of it. Taking my guitar, I sped down to the bar.