5
Jessica Young didn't know if it was the cold sweat or the sunlight bursting into the room that woke her up. Probably it was a combination of the both but mostly it was just the nightmare she'd managed to escape from and no more. Sitting up, she looked into the body length mirror in the corner of the room and saw that she looked whiter than a ghost and wetter than someone who'd just swam the Pacific. It had been the strangest dream yet, and the most clear. The circular room, the empty tanks and the people in white coats, including someone called Dr. Wyatt. The name rang a bell, but at the moment she couldn't place it. What made the dream stranger still was the fact that it was the same one she'd been having for the past couple of nights now and each time with a little bit more information than the last. But last night's, the most peculiar thing happened. She was walking through a dimly lit room. It was a chrome covered circle with a ceiling so high it felt like she was inside a telescope while the smell of Listerine and wet soil stung her nostrils as it always did in these dreams. Some of the other neighbours from Fredrick Street were there too. There was Old Man Albert, Sarah the Sunrise Jogger and the dreamy Dr. Fleming, all of them. A woman, this Dr. Wyatt, was leading them all into the room. But toward the end of the dream, she and Albert had met eyes, and she had the strangest feeling that this was his dream too. That was what clung to her most this morning, more than her clothes or the stench due to the inordinate amount of sweat she'd produced throughout the night. Nothing spectacular had happened during the dream; it was just strange, yet familiar. Perhaps this due to the fact she kept having it, but most likely it was something more. She just couldn't quite put her finger on it. Not yet at least.
Peeling herself out of her covers, she headed over to the window and drew back the curtains. It was just before 9.00am and she didn't start University for another four weeks. Looking out on Fredrick Street from her bedroom window, she saw Sarah bundling the kids into the car with her husband following closely behind with the packed lunches. It was moments like this that she felt the absolute blissful freedom of being a young student without the responsibilities of having a family, although she did have enough responsibilities herself to be getting on with. Whether it was her volunteering initiatives or charity work, she made sure her days were busy either advancing her career or bettering the lives of others. With that in mind, she opened the window and called down to Sarah.
"Morning Mrs. Barr! Do you guys need a hand?"
Sarah waved her away with a smile. "Not at all, thank you Jessica. You're time will come for the school run, enjoy the lie-in while you can!"
"Well you know where I am if you need me." She closed the window, feeling lighter. There was nothing like starting the day with offering help to others.
Turning to her room (tidy, it was always tidy) she thought about the day ahead. She supposed she could study; get a headstart on the learning so that she could hit the ground running before her classes started. After all, she'd already spent money on all the books. Plus, Dr. Fleming had given her some articles he thought she ought to read to help her in her pursuit of a career in medicine. But she didn't feel like playing at being Doctor today (which was strange because she always loved having her nose stuck in a textbook). She didn't feel like anything other than thinking about that dream some more but, as her Grandfather used to tell her, "What good is dwelling on the dream if it's something we can only see with our eyes shut."Truthfully, she didn't know all that well what he meant by it, but he had white hair and he always told her that was an automatic passage to the Hall of Wisdom. That was before he downed half a quarter of whisky whilst toasting to white haired fools, so it may just have been the amber liquid talking.
Maybe the whole thing with the dream and Dr. Wyatt was her brain telling her to go round a visit the neighbours. After all, they were in the dream too and there was some of the neighbours that hadn't been seen in a while, which had her worried. Jessica always worried about others and wanted to do what she could to help. This would probably take her mind off the strangeness of the dream. She nodded, to the empty room, her resolve strengthened. That's exactly what she would do. She'd go round and check the houses to see if anyone needed a helping hand with anything. Almost immediately, the dream started to disappear and she felt back to normal. Throwing on her jeans and a baggy t-shirt, she headed downstairs and into the kitchen to grab a bowl of cereal and see what messages (if any) her parents had left her on the fridge.
The kitchen was cold, the blinds drawn allowing no sunlight in. Opening the blinds and letting the light and warmth pour in, Jessica surveyed the room. There were a few dishes to be done and the breakfast bar in the middle of the room was stocked full with cereal boxes. Before doing anything, Jessica made sure to tidy the kitchen. She always liked to make sure the house was tidy for her parents when they came in. Do for others first before you do for yourself, she thought. Another saying her Grandfather used to say and it was a saying that she lived by. After a quick tidy, she again felt lighter and rewarded herself with a big bowl of chocolate cereal. She left no space at the top whatsoever, and causing what could be dangerous overspill. Sitting at the breakfast bar, she read the notes on the fridge. There was only one. "Have a good day, Love Mum and Dad." She smiled. It would be hard living without them, she knew, when she left to go to University. They had such a positive relationship and it made her sad to think of not seeing them everyday. Sometimes she thought it would be better if they didn't get on so well just so the transition would be easier.
Jessica looked down at her bowl of cereal and stopped, putting the spoon down. Her chocolate cereal, had disappeared and was replaced by what looked like tiny white pills. Then, out of nowhere, she heard a voice.
"Who fucked up, who changed the fucking cereal!? Do you want another disaster?"
She staggered backward off the breakfast bar chair, dropping the bowl, it smashed and china flew everywhere cutting Jessica in the foot and spraying the cupboard with milk and chocolate cereal. "What the fuck was that?" she yelled.
Looking around, she searched for the source of the sound. It was a voice she'd heard, like it was someone standing over her shoulder and whispering in her ear. Something about a disaster. Shaking a little, Jessica stood in silence, waiting for the sound again.
"Hello? Is there someone there? Cos if there is, I just smashed a bowl so I have, like, a thousand little daggers lying around here and I'll fucking use them. Hello?"
Nothing. Not a sound from throughout the house. Just the drip-drip of milk onto the floor and nothing else. Jessica was sure she'd heard something. And the way the cereal had changed. She looked down now and the debris included her chocolate cereal. What were those pills? Had she accidently poured some vitamins in or something? Had the milk discoloured them? But then the voice – there was no explanation for that. Unless, of course, it was somebody outside, that was possible. She listened for a moment or two longer just for good measure then, satisfied there was no stranger wandering around the house, she started to tidy up her mess, putting the disembodied mystery voice to the back of her head. It was probably somebody outside.
As she bent down to pick up the broken pieces of bowl, mop up the milk and examine the fresh cut on her foot a loud whine cut through the house and hurt her head. She grabbed her head and closed her eyes; it was like someone knocking the door but the door was inside her head. Over the sound of the whine (it was an alarm, she knew that now, a buzzing whine of an alarm) she could hear a rabble of voices shouting.
She's starting to remember.
Shut it down, it's happening again, we can't lose another one.
Jessica held her head, squeezing her eyes shut as tightly as she could. What was happening?
Dr. Wyatt, we're losing her!
Before Jessica could even contemplate how strange it was to hear that name again when she was no longer sleeping, everything was over as quickly as it had begun. Jessica opened her eyes to take in her house in Fredrick Street for one final time. When she did, she found a peculiar sight in front of her. The house was disappearing around her as she stood, being replaced with the circular room from her dream, with the white coats and the tanks. And she was no longer standing either; she was floating. Not only that, she felt wet as well, her skin wrinkly like she'd spent to long in a bath.
The last thing Jessica Young would experience was this strange floating sensation and the concerned faces of the onlookers in the white coats below her. She sought one of the faces out. It was a woman, standing in the centre (she was in charge, you could tell) and Jessica locked eyes with her. Jessica could see the woman was scared and disappointed. But there was no surprise in her face, not the surprise that Jessica was experiencing. As the life faded from Jessica, she closed her eyes and remembered. She was not who she was, not the person on Fredrick Street. She remembered; the white pills, the money, the lives ruined, the people she mocked and teased, the failures, the loneliness. But she remembered the good also, the potential she had to be good. The mistakes she had made were there, but she was good also. She thought coming here (wherever here was) would allow her to erase the mistakes and just keep the good.
The last thing Jessica Young would do, would be to cry, a tear rolling down her cheek, lost in the water she was drowning in.
From the outside though, Jessica's house was still standing to the rest of those people who lived on Fredrick Street. Nothing had changed.
Except for the lights. The lights on the house had gone out.
Transcript of Interview with Sarah Barr. August 25, 2015. Conducted by J.P. McNair.
I stop. I can see that Sarah has become upset, recalling the story of what happened to Jessica. In all honestly, I'm a little shaken myself. This is the first time I've heard, in this detail, about what happened.
Do you want to take a break?
"No, I want to continue. If I stop, I might not start again."
I check the batteries of the microphone, which I'm using to record the interview, along with taking notes of my own. I swap the batteries out and push record again.
When did you know Jessica was gone?
"I didn't – even though I'd seen her that day I didn't even notice that she was no longer there. That she never turned up to the BBQ. It wasn't until after that I found out. But whatever happened to Jessica, I think, had a domino effect. Because that's when things started happening to all of us."
I continued writing.