Dreamwalkers: The Awakening

CHAPTER 6

"How's life without Zoë?" my mom asks as she hands me a freshly washed dinner plate to dry.

"Boring. I can't wait until she gets home," I grumble as I wipe the plate then set it on the drying rack, accidentally clinking another one.

"Careful," my mom says as she cringes.

"I know, I know. They don't make this pattern anymore."

She smiles sheepishly. "I guess I've said that a few times, huh?"

"Just once or twice," I offer sarcastically.

She hands me another wet dish. "When will Zoë be back?" she asks.

"Late tomorrow night. Around three a.m." My phone buzzes on the counter behind me with a text from Zoë. "Speaking of," I trail off, unlocking the phone to an image of Zoë's knees hovering over the sand and a bright blue ocean behind them. My mom sees the photo over my shoulder and lights up.

"She must be having so much fun."

My phone buzzes again, this time with a phone call from Zoë. My heart practically leaps with excitement when I see her smiling face on the screen. "You better not be calling to tell me you're extending your trip," I joke as a greeting.

Zoë lets out a hearty laugh. "No, I'm just never coming home. What's the temp in N.H. today? A toasty forty degrees?" I gesture to my mom that I'm deserting her for my bedroom and make my way toward the steps as I reply, "I think it got up to fifty-three today."

"I can't believe how much I miss you," she whines. "It's only been four days. Feels like four months."

"Me too. I'm bored out of my mind without you here." After closing the door to my room, I plop on my bed.

"How've your dreamwalks been without me?" she asks.

"Lame."

Zoë laughs. "Guess I'm the light of your life."

"You should be honored," I retort.

"Listen, I can't stay on. We have lunch reservations in twenty. I just wanted to hear your voice. I guess you'll know when I'm home after I magically appear in your dreamwalk tomorrow night."

"I can't decide if that's really cool or really freaky."

"I'll decide for you. It's totally badass." In the background, I hear her dad tell her it's time to head to the dining room. "See you in my dreams tomorrow night," she says dramatically.

"I can't wait." And I genuinely can't.

After ending the call, I scan my room, looking for an appropriate level of distraction. The books on my shelves have all been read, there's nothing left to binge watch on Netflix, and nothing on any social media that catches my interest. I guess now is as good a time as any to journal. Focusing on the topic that brought me to therapy in the first place, I put pen to paper and recall as many of the details as it feels safe to, hoping that this simple act will release some of their hold on me.

Aside from the memory of the day Charlie left me, there's one other day that haunts me.

Charlie spent days searching for the perfect spot for our camping trip. One that would grant privacy and the amenities I requested. It was early enough in the season that the campgrounds at Franconia National Park in the White Mountains were still sparsely occupied. We spent the day hiking through Flume Gorge, drinking fresh spring water straight from the source and taking selfies in front of impressive rock formations.

The night was spent at the campground, in the blue tent that haunts my dreamwalks like a spirit with unfinished business. "Do you believe in reincarnation?" he whispered in my ear as we lay tangled in each other.