dreams tonite - alvvays
When I was I tried for what I assumed was hours to remember where I'd seen the unsub's face before. Brown hair. Pale skin. Dark eyes. He couldn't have been more than 5'6''. My brain flipped through faces like a magazine. How many times had I seen someone matching that description? Too many to count. The more I thought about it, though, the more I became convinced that wasn't his real voice. I must've heard it before.
The answer came to me in a dream.
Max, Eliza, and I were in my college dorm. It was the day before she graduated. A degree in chemistry with a focus on spectrometry or polymers or whatever it was. I never figured out exactly what she was studying, only that she was really good at it. We sat on the floor with soda cans and playing cards.
"Juliet says she's moving to L.A.," Max said. Juliet was a film student.
"She always says that," I laughed.
"I don't know, I think she might really do it this time," he replied and placed down a card. Queen of hearts.
"And you always say that," I shot back. Eliza laughed, a tinkling like wind chimes.
"I hope she does it," Eliza said.
"Why, so you can feel better about the fact that you're also leaving us?" I quipped and put down a card.
"Exactly."
"I can't believe you're graduating," Max said, "We only got you for two years. It's not fair."
"Plus, I have to find a new roommate," I interjected.
"You still have me. You'll always have me," she said. She put down a card with a deft motion of her long fingers. Eleven. I blinked twice. Two. Eliza cheered and took the pile of cards in the middle.
"I heard you've got a guy, Em," Eliza teased as she clumsily shuffled the deck. I heard the sound of birds.
"No, I don't!" I glared at Max. He shrugged and smirked.
"Mhmm," she drawled, "He seems nice."
"He's not mine." I picked up my beer.
"Don't worry, Em," Eliza said. She looked right into my eyes. "He'll save you."
Max set down an empty Solo cup and stood up.
"Anyone want another one?" he asked. I raised my hand. He walked toward a styrofoam cooler.
Eliza kept shuffling. Behind her, on the wall, was a big painting by numbers canvas. It was half-filled in. I was about to ask how long that had been there when there was a knock at the door.
"I'll get it," I said.
I pulled open the door. A man with scraggly brown hair was standing outside holding a pizza box. He was wearing jeans and a flannel shirt.
"Sorry," he said in his normal voice, "The doorbell is kind of hard to find."
"There's no doorbell," I said. The soles of my feet were too heavy to lift. I glanced over my shoulder back at Max and Eliza. When I looked back the unsub was gone.