AWAKEN

Too Close

In a panic, I threw my body forward and stumbled across his chest. I lay my head down against his unbuttoned stained shirt and strained the best I could to listen for a heartbeat. Ethan was unconscious, but I could still hear the faint drumming in the distance... Thump, thump... thump... thump...

I sighed in relief, but fear still consumed me because the blood was traveling so fast down the pavement. The male driver ran over to Ethan and screamed, "Oh, my God! Ma'am! I-I am so sorry!"

He towered over me by six feet, at least. His silver beard, round nose, and dark blue eyes filled with fear and regret. The man's fingers trembled as he pulled the phone from the depths of the denim's left pocket and dialed the emergency operator.

"Yes! Please! This is an emergency! I just hit a man! H-he came out of nowhere! There is so much blood!"

The man paced back and forth. He could not stay still. Every two seconds, he glanced over our shoulder to check on Ethan, yelling unimaginable words. "Please! hurry, dammit!"

Ethan's mouth slightly opened as a small moan followed by a breath escaped his parted lips. "Ethan," I whispered, "Hang in there, just a bit longer." 

The neighborhood gathered to watch and gossip. Not one person offered to help. They covered their mouths and whispered while others just felt bad for us, not knowing what to do. The man continued to answer the questions from the emergency operator as he investigated signs on the corner of the streets. "W-we are on 5th street! The intersection of Washington Avenue! Please hurry, or he will die!"

The world around me became silent as I watched Ethan. I shut out the sounds of the man on the phone, and the rude neighbor's. I stood up with my fist clenched towards the crowd. I remember wanting so badly to get rid of all the staring eyes. A trembling hand cupped my stiffened shoulder. The man walked in front of me and blocked the view of all the hideous neighbors. Lucky for them.

 "Ma'am'," He said calmly as possible, "The emergency squad will be here soon. Everything will be okay." 

My eyes fluttered several times as I refocused back on the man. Scorching heat radiated from the palms of my hands. The man gasped as he glanced down and my tightened fist. I didn't look to see what he was seeing. I only stared at him as he stepped back in fear. I must have given him a hell of a fright because he ran away.

Seconds later, the ambulance came along with the high pitch sounds of the sirens. The crew worked for what seemed like hours to stabilize Ethan. The moment I climbed into the ambulance and saw him strapped down on the white metal bed, I swore to myself, I would do whatever it took to make Ethan well and happy again.

Ethan remained unconscious for seven days and seven nights while the nurses came in and out of the room and worked their tails off. They monitored his heartbeat, blood pressure, and oxygen levels. They treated me well, too, offering me meals, snacks, and fresh clothing. 

One night, a nurse by the name Clarice tiptoed in the room and surprised me by offering me a place to stay. She tried to convince me that Ethan was terrible news, and I deserved much better than him. I refused her offer. I tried my best to explain to her that I was the blame for his drunken state. 

After that night, Genna came by the hospital and my house every day. She tried to tell me, "Let him go. It's time." I eventually told her about the unusual event with the nurse. She agreed with Clarice and did everything in her power to get me to go home with her, but I couldn't. 

When Ethan finally awoke, I kissed his bruised, puffy cheek several times and begged mercifully. "Oh my, God! I'm so sorry! Ethan, we will do whatever it takes to fix this! Please, just... just don't do this again!"

Ethan gently patted me on the back with his long fingers and said only one word, "Good."

When we returned home from the hospital, I did everything in my power to make him happy. I worked twice as hard at everything I did. I was determined to seek his approval. For a while, it worked. Our life was finally back on track. He was the man I fell in love with and the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with until one evening he received another phone call from his work.

Once again, they offered him a new position. This time, they wanted to place him right on the front line. Ethan finally told me what he was doing. Ethan said his strive to control the world impressed his company, and they were taking him to the next step. His company signed on with the Harlem's Presidential Campaign. 

Harlem's Presidential Campaign is the most prestigious company known in the country. They have been notorious for seeking the last several men who were prime candidates for being the next President of the United States of America. The best part... they were right. Every. Single. Time.

Ethan's pride and joy rocketed through the roof. From that moment on, his wicked ways returned. His selfish behavior, desires, and his need for perfection, they all came back with a vengeance. Ethan wanted to dominate his coworkers, his ranking status at work, all his friends, and any financial investments that he could get his claws into.

No matter if it was material or non-material, they could not satisfy Ethan. His heart darkened, and so did his temper.

 I gave him his space by moving back to my grandparent's old house, thinking that would help improve our relationship. Nope. 

He continued to belittle my hair, clothes, and figure. He even became miserable over my facial expressions or simple comments. I could not satisfy him, even in the bedroom. 

Now, he says is things like, "Where in the hell did you get that outfit, out of the city dump?"

He consistently says things like, "I thought I told you to lose weight! Your brain cells are falling out of your head and landing on your ass!"

Every word that spills out of his mouth is downright hurtful. Sometimes he fusses at me when he is trying to explain something going in at work. I am supposed to know what he is attempting to say, even though I wasn't there. "Geeze Brea, it's simple! We have been over this a million times! I mean seriously! Will you ever learn? Ugh, probably not. Trying to teach you anything is like trying to teach a bag of rocks!"

Yes. Ethan is an asshole.

Yesterday, I think Ethan honestly hurt me the most when he said, "Brea, stop making so much noise! Do you think listening to your annoying voice is going to get me off?"

Yea, that hurt. A lot.

I was attempting to let him know the Harlem Campaign called. Oh well, I guess he will never know.

Last night, once again, Ethan had been drinking rum, vodka, and a few shots of tequila. He said they gave him some bad news, and it was my fault. I would have believed him, but he smelled like a w***e. I told him that I had enough, and I was leaving for good this time.  Ethan launched a lighthouse made of a light blue crystal and threw it as hard as he could, but somehow it stopped mid-drift at the front door and shattered right on the floor. I silently left with Ethan screaming, and my head held high. 

****

 Now, I am sitting here all alone on my old bedroom floor at my grandparent's house, staring at my daddy's initials under the bed. The s**t in my life I have been through may seem like a lot. From losing my parents to bullies, to asshole boyfriends like Ethan, they are all inner demons that I can quickly put to rest, but this dream I am having is far more draining than anything I have ever endured.

I peel the wet fabric away from my skin and toss it to the floor. It felt good to let the pores breathe. I guide my finger one more time against the grains of the letters — a tiny spark lights at the tip of my finger. There is something more drawing me in, something much stronger than I cannot ignore. A cool brush of wind tickles my fingers, followed by little specks of blue.

"What the hell?" I ask in awe.

The phone rings, causing me to jump. I glance over to see who it is, and when I look back, the letters disappear.

"Oh no, not again!"