...and when you wake in the morning finding that you still lie in hell, lick your lips, spit on the flames and walk on through the fire.
- L.L. Musings

I bolted upright on the squeaking metal cot with my every thought in high definition. The blanket was twisted around my legs and my heart pounded against my ribs. Trembling, I pulled my knees up to my chest. I choked back a sob. It had seemed so real that waking up from the vivid dream threatened to pull me apart.

A cold draft touched my face through the small open sash window and I rubbed vigorously at my arms. He was there again. The image of a wolf had burned itself into my sleepy retinas. Moving unnaturally and prowling under the cover of darkness. That fragmented part of my brain would conjure him as a magical beast, but I felt him reach for me. I had woken up before I could feel his physical form, but I felt him there.

I wiped tiredly at the perspiration beading against my brows. Aside from my own loud breathing I couldn't hear any other noise from the bar. I checked the small watch around my wrist out of habit. Gingerly, I ran my fingers over the smooth round surface. I tapped the glass twice and scrutinized the unmoving hands. I felt my insides twitch painfully. It had belonged to my grandmother and had been stuck on ten to twelve since I had stolen it back, along with a few of my other personal belongings, from the psyche ward.

I didn't know when it had seized ticking. In the roughly two months I had been there it could have been anytime between being admitted and escaping. My sleeve fell back and I scratched anxiously at the exposed skin of my lower arm. I barely noticed the angry red lines and the few beads of blood as I aggravated the old scabs.

I stopped when a burning sensation shot through my arm and instead nibbled on my knuckles like a famished mouse. A militia of anxious tremors quaked through my body. It felt like I had aged a decade these last weeks. Sometimes I think it would just be easier to never wake up. I didn't understand why I always had the same dream, about the same man, the ending unchanged. Just that I would rather remain in that strange dream realm with him than return to the harsh reality that awaited me when I woke.

Kicking the blanket back the rest of the way, I pulled my socks up from where they had begun to slip from my toes during the night. The patched heels had twisted around to the bridges of my feet and I turned them back underfoot. I reached for my shoes and shivered from the cold. Constructing scenarios in my head wouldn't change a single thing about my life and it sure wouldn't dispel the nerves that were knotting up my stomach.

Silence lingered in the air as I pulled on my shoes and secured the laces. I expelled another anxious sigh and replaced it with a deep calming breath. Several of those later I dragged myself to the small ceramic basin decorated with an indistinguishable collage of thin hairline cracks. The old pipes protested loudly when I opened the single tap to the right and the water came sputtering through. When the stream was steady, I cupped my hands together and splashed the water on my face. I faltered briefly. It was cold, freezing.

Looking up in search of a towel, I caught my own reflection in the mirror and just wiped at the remaining droplets with the sleeves of my hoodie. The mirror was wall-mounted with a cheap plastic frame and the surface of the glass covered in greasy fingerprints and splotched black in places. My eyes roamed critically over every feature I saw mirrored there. For probably the thousandth time I wondered if it showed on my face. It's not like I howled at the moon or that the so-called voices in my head were getting any chattier. What did they see?

I combed the damp strands of hair from my face with my fingers working through the knots. I was pale and my eyes appeared to have sunken into my head. I cringed at my own image. Mental soundness wasn't exactly my top priority right now, surviving was. But I was buckling under the strain and it showed.

The churning in my mind was enough to break my sleep into unrefreshing chunks. After a few hours of vivid dreaming I would wake too early to start my day and will myself back to sleep, but I couldn't. Commonly I would lay there staring uselessly ahead, my fatigued mind flailing without direction. Remembering the sleeping medication, I preferred the tossing and turning to that groggy feeling the next day and the taste of metal in my mouth. Sleep was never peaceful, but last night had been better. Through the lingering haze of sleep that hung over my mind I knew there had only been him.

From the carousel of my usual nightmares he had enveloped me with a subtle awareness, demanding I only think of him.

The sigh that escaped past my jutted out bottom lip ruffled my bangs like a slight breeze. It relaxed a bit of tension in my muscles and signaled the beginning of deliberate effort. Soon I had the doors to both the storage room and office opened and shut behind me with a distant creaking.

I found Pete putting the chairs up on the tables and sweeping the floor. The place looked different in daylight. Not completely the den of alcohol and debauchery I imagined I'd find when waking up. Sunlight shone through the shutters in golden rays and crept under the door like a ghoul's grin.

"Good morning to you, Emma," he greeted jovially. "Sleep well, did you?"

"I slept fine, thanks," I replied quietly with a nervous scratch of my arm. "What time is it?"

Leaning against the industrial sized broom, Pete checked his wrist. "Quarter past nine. You wannae grab the mob and bucket out back and tell me a little 'bout yourself while we finish 'ere?"

I swallowed nervously. "Sure, let me just grab a change of clothes from my car."

He agreed with a jerky nod. "Go through the kitchen. Haven't unlocked the front doors yet."

"Okay," I agreed softly. "I'll be right back." With my head down and my hands fisted in the pockets of my hoodie I did as I was told.

The kitchen stood in stark contrast to the rest of the establishment with stainless steel appliances and utensils on hooks. The efficient hum of the refrigerator filled the room of matching crockery and spotless counters. Dried herbs hung from beams in front of the single large window above the sink and a professional knife block was stationed readily to the side. Taking in the well equipped kitchen, I gnawed on the inside of my cheek as I apprehensively looked out for Pete's sister. My breath released in a puff of cold air when I made my way outside through the back door without walking into her. She seemed intimidating and not at all gracious about my stay here. I would prefer not facing her alone the first time I officially meet her.

It was silent out, as if the world had ended during the night. The cool air nipped at my cheeks. I stepped begrudgingly into the cold. Mornings such as these were their own reward. It was better than my dreams dragging me backwards into the distinct long morning shadows.

Frowning, I fumbled with the keys before unlocking the driver's side door of my Honda. My car was the only one for the entire length of the street. The few that I had spotted in the dark must have left when Pete had closed up last night. Across the wide road I spotted the grocer and the double pump gas station just as he'd said. A bell chimed above the door to the small town supermarket and I ducked my head before I could make eye contact with anyone. Grabbing my drawstring bag over the seat from the back, I locked the door and pocketed the keys. I threw the thin frayed strap over my shoulder and bolted for the entrance to the kitchen.

My pulse throbbed against my temples. It was easier to face these strangers when my mind was exhausted and couldn't identify the possible threats. I could feel the panic ignite in my stomach like a cluster of spark plugs. I fought back the primal urge to flee. I focused on slowing down my irrational thoughts before my breathing turned to ragged gasps and the world started spinning. Part of my brain figured they would start pointing fingers soon.

Shaking my head, I pierce my fingers through the panic that is a thin cellophane. It will get easier eventually. My chest relaxed. The attack was no longer an absolute. No one here knew about my past, no one wanted to harm me. Next time will be better.

I just needed to figure out what to do with all these unwanted feelings of anxiety and negativity. For the most part I just needed to run it out.

Stumbling into the kitchen I was met with the decidedly rounded figure of the woman I had tried to avoid. She was mumbling to herself as she worked her wild curls into a messy bun in the reflection of the shiny oven door. Walking by with a quiet heel-toe, heel-toe, I attempted to sneak around her without the rubber soles of my shoes squeaking across the floor. Her hands left her hair and she suddenly swung around with her arms folded tightly over her freshly pressed apron.

I stilled. Panic doing a repeat swirl in my abdomen.

"Well aren't you a rude little lass?" Her eyes were narrowed and made me feel that for reasons unbeknownst to me, I was the enemy. The aloof judgment in that single look made me wish I had altered my path not to cross hers. "We're no B&B and the least ye can do to show your gratitude is to greet your hosts. I swear Pete's all but gone and lost his mind. This isn't the town for a fragile thing like you."

"Sorry," I mumbled uncertainly, feeling the reprimand. "I just... I don't understand. What are you talking about? I'll only be here for a few days."

Pete brought his head around the archway with an interrupting cough. "Maria leave the girl be, the poor thing's already as scared as a filly finding her legs."

"She ought to be, you idiot," her scolding aimed for his jugular. "She can't stay here! What were you thinking? What do you think is going to happen when they find out about her?"

I swallowed nervously, wanting to huddle into the cupboards. I didn't have thick skin. I could clearly tell when my presence was unwelcome. "Maybe I should just go. I didn't mean to cause you any trouble."

Pete tugged at his beard with a sigh. "It's your choice to make, Emma. This isn't the best place for a delicate lass like you, but I'll help as long as ye decide to stay."

Loud howls rang through the air before I could formulate a reply and I froze in terror. The wolfish sounds were close, too close. Was that what Maria had meant with her warning? Did they have problems with the wolf population here? Terror crawled up my spine with icy fingers and tied my stomach up in knots. I leaned back onto the counter with a rattle of plates. I had feared the people here. Wild animals had never even crossed my mind.

It stopped just as suddenly as it started. The silence that followed lay thick on my skin. I tensed against the shaking of my limbs. "What was that?"

It was a stupid question, but I had hoped for a calm and definite reassurance. I got neither. Worrying thoughts emerged from my mind with a vengeance then. Pete and Maria stood quiet and tense, staring at the door with worry on their faces. I heard the footsteps approaching right before two new figures darkened the doorway. My heart lurched forward in my chest and twisted with a painful pull. The sunlight on their backs cast their features in shadow, but I could identify their build as that of a man and woman.

The woman stepped forward, avoiding the heated rays. Her presence was large and intimidating despite her slight frame. In her eyes I saw a simmering rage that seemed just as wild as the howls that alerted us to their presence. My palms turned clammy with a cold sweat and my brain was threatening to shut down. I always had the problem with overthinking everything, but this fear was inescapable. I knew I was right to be scared.

The large man took a step closer with tension playing over his rigid features. A vein throbbed out on his forehead and his hands clenched into fists at his side. Not even realizing I was holding my breath I seized the aimless darting of my eyes and settled them on his. Shock fired through my bones and my fingers tightened painfully around the edge of the counter. It was him. The man in my dream. He had always been a familiar blur, but seeing him now, I recognized him as easily as if I'd known him my whole life.

I couldn't move. Although I could recall wishing I didn't exist, I couldn't suppress feeling that maybe he was the reason I did. My heart hammered against my ribs with a violence that felt like it would beat right out of my chest. His nostrils flared and he came at me with a dangerous growl on his lips. His frown was aggressive and spoke of an attack against the gentle natured. Closing my eyes with a frightened gasp, I flinched back into myself. 

Hot breath blew against my neck and my eyes flew open at the intimate gesture. Words were muddled in my throat and I wished I could speak when he pulled back from me. For those few seconds I had purpose. He was the sun and I was orbiting around him, so close that the intimacy of his breath against my skin made me burn.

He stumbled back and pulled at his hair with a tortured growl. I could feel his anxiety as if it were my own. The refrigerator rocked back into the wall when his large frame fell into it. "No, no, no, no, no." Clutching at his head, he shook it fervently back and forth. "It's not real, they wouldn't do this."

I couldn't take it anymore. Taking a careful step forward I raised the question I most needed an answer to. "What's wrong with him?"

The woman approached with a foreboding click of her ankle boots. "Marcus, please tell me you are coming down from a bad trip and that you aren't having an emotional breakdown after looking in the eyes of this timid little mouse?"

He shook his head again as if he could expel the unknown evil from his mind. "She can't be. It's not her. It can't be."

"How is this a bad thing?" she questioned dubiously, obviously knowing exactly what the troubled Marcus was talking about.

"She's a human, it's not real. Not real," he repeated in a broken mantra.

Human? Of course I was human. What else would I be?

"Man up, Marcus," she scolded with a flick of her raven hair over her shoulder. "It is as it was meant to be. You know that."

I reached out a timid hand, but he recoiled from my touch before I could formulate words of comfort. It hurt, so badly. I had this fierce need inside me to be there for the man that had been a constant in my dreams for so long, and it ripped away at my soul to have him deny me.

I scratched at my arm in quiet desperation as he found his feet and stumbled outside, away from me. I couldn't stop shaking as I watched him leave. Salty drops fell from my trembling chin. I didn't even realize I was crying until I felt them there. His howls of misery reached my ears from somewhere outside and I felt it ripping through muscle and bone, ripping into my gut.

My heart pulled in and out of my chest. There was a rawness to my breathing. His absence left me hollow.