There was a knocking sound in my dream. I didn't know what it was or where it was coming from. It kept getting louder. I heard someone yell my name. I felt myself getting further from my dream, like I was zooming to reality.
A bright light and a sillhouette. I gasped and jolted upright in bed. It was Emma. She closed the door. "You scared me," I mumbled.
"Sorry," she apologized. "Here," she said, offering me a small pile between her hands. "I brought you some clean clothes." She layed them on my bed and sat down next to them. "How're you feeling?" she asked.
I rubbed my eyes. "Shitty," I replied.
"Well, you better get dressed. There's something you need to see."
Automatically, I was worried. "What?" I asked.
"Just get dressed," she ordered as she stood and went for the door. I waited until she closed it before I got up and took the pile to the bathroom. I peed, brushed my teeth with the toothpaste and toothbrush she brought me. Then I put on clean undergarments, and slipped the dress over my head. I grabbed the socks, sat on the bed, yanked them on, tied my shoestrings to my Chucks and threw my hair up in a pony. I squinted into the light as I opened the door. She was standing to the right. "What is it?" I asked her.
She nodded her head in the direction of the driveway. I looked and gasped. Dylan's truck was parked and his head was lolling out the window. I ran over to him, with Emma on my heels, and covered my mouth with my hand. He had puked down the side of his truck and some was still on the side of his mouth. Ugh. Poor thing. I cupped his cheek in my hand. "Dylan?" I said softly. No response. "Dylan?" I said a little more loudly. Still nothing. I gave his cheek a gentle slap and yelled "DYLAN!" in his face. He was out cold. I looked at Emma desperately. I watched as she turned her head in the direction of the office and motioned. I looked and Norman was coming towards us.
"Help us get him to my room," I said as I opened the truck door. His body poured out and we three grabbed ahold of him and with difficulty, drug him to my room. Norman managed to get the door open and we layed his heavy body on the bed.
"I'll get him some water," Emma volunteered.
"Here, let's take his boots off," Norman suggested. He yanked one off and I yanked the other.
Emma sat the glass of water on the nightstand. I sat on the bed and carressed his cheek, staring at him. "Dylan," I whispered even though I knew it was no use.
"What's going on?"
I jerked my head towards the door. Norma was standing there, still with her exhausted expression from last night.
"Dylan was passed out in his truck," Emma answered.
"Oh. Well go on out. We should let him sleep," Norma said as she bent over him. She noticed the vomit and dashed to the bathroom. She came back with a wet cloth and wiped his mouth. She proceeded to pull the covers over him and tuck them under him. We all treapsed out of the room and I bit my lip, thinking and wondering what was going to happen.
Norma sighed. "Are you hungry?" she looked at me. "Come on up to the house and I'll make you breakfast."