how tormenting nightmares could be to a person. He felt Abigail’s pain and worried if she would find herself, one day, pacing along a ledge. Those depressing days were brutal, and Frankie feared that he would slip back into depression if he didn’t make some difficult choices soon.
Abigail sat on the edge of her bed. She saw the text from Roger. She ignored it and carried on with what she was doing. Abigail was rummaging through her purse again. She had laid out her license which read:
ABIGAIL PAIGE
652 SCOTT STREET
UNIT 6
UTICA, NY
She put the license away.
She had a small stack of cash totaling about $250, a key, eye shadow, dark brown lipstick, and a small black King James bible– both new and Old Testament. She flipped through the pages from back to front. The only thing she saw in the book was a note on the last page in red ink that read E2 ON THE FIRST FOURTEEN. This doesn’t mean shit to me right now. Her frustration level soared to critical.
She put her stuff away again and laid down to go to sleep. She let out a deep sigh. Then her phone rang. It was Roger. She picked up with a sleepy voice. “Hey Roggie bear.”
“Hey Elvis. Just checking to see if you were ok. You seemed a little bothered today.”
“I’m bothered every day.”
“You just ignore my texts now?”
“Yes!”
They giggled.
She asked, “What are you working on now? I hear a catastrophe brewing in the background. It sounds like something wants to explode over there.”
“If I explained, you wouldn’t get it.”
“Well maybe I can come by and check it out tomorrow.”
Roger was a little shocked and happy. He always wanted to spend time with her but never had a chance and here it was. “Ok. If you’re not being cynical, then that would be really cool. As long as you don’t laugh. Half of my ideas don’t work.”
“Half of my brain doesn’t work, so we’re pretty even.”
“Still can’t put the pieces together?”
“The rabbit hole goes deeper and deeper every day. Does E2 on the First Fourteen sound familiar to you?”
“Not in the least. Where’s that coming from?”
“Good question. It was written in this… oh never mind. I’m hoping something will jar my memory but it’s more complicated than that, I guess.”
“What about the dreams?”
“I still have those from time to time. It’s been getting worse. I try to keep my iPod playing while I sleep. It helps sometimes but once the batteries go…”
Another spark went off on one of Roger’s experiments. “OW! Shit!”
Abigail laughed. “Let me let you go before you kill yourself. Any final words for the eulogy?”
“SHUT UP!”
“Duly noted. Good night!” They hung up.
Abigail laid her head down on the pillow and tucked herself in. She liked to feel the fleece from the blanket run over her legs when she was tired. Her initial goal was to avoid sleep as much as possible, but her body needed rest. Her head continued to sink into the pillow. She fought the urge all night but couldn’t resist the desire to close her eyes. Her body was getting more and more comfortable. Sleep weighed over her body, sucking her in like a drain. Her head tilted to the side. Slowly she drifted into a deep slumber.
Abigail’s head moved frantically from side to side as her world spun from a dark city night into a murky rain forest, thick with trees and dense fog. She lay on the muddy soil in a fetal position, naked and cold. The black ground crept up over her body. She peeled her body out of the position and stood up. Her legs wobbled as if it was her first time walking. The trees towered over her, leaning inward with their upper branches tangling overhead. Black snakes slithered down the trucks and hissed all around. She stood in the midst of the shiny black bark that oozed down like crude oil over a rusty pipe. She snapped her neck around upon hearing a faint sound coming from the bushes. Suddenly, she heard feet pounding against black broken leaves,
Abigail sat on the edge of her bed. She saw the text from Roger. She ignored it and carried on with what she was doing. Abigail was rummaging through her purse again. She had laid out her license which read:
ABIGAIL PAIGE
652 SCOTT STREET
UNIT 6
UTICA, NY
She put the license away.
She had a small stack of cash totaling about $250, a key, eye shadow, dark brown lipstick, and a small black King James bible– both new and Old Testament. She flipped through the pages from back to front. The only thing she saw in the book was a note on the last page in red ink that read E2 ON THE FIRST FOURTEEN. This doesn’t mean shit to me right now. Her frustration level soared to critical.
She put her stuff away again and laid down to go to sleep. She let out a deep sigh. Then her phone rang. It was Roger. She picked up with a sleepy voice. “Hey Roggie bear.”
“Hey Elvis. Just checking to see if you were ok. You seemed a little bothered today.”
“I’m bothered every day.”
“You just ignore my texts now?”
“Yes!”
They giggled.
She asked, “What are you working on now? I hear a catastrophe brewing in the background. It sounds like something wants to explode over there.”
“If I explained, you wouldn’t get it.”
“Well maybe I can come by and check it out tomorrow.”
Roger was a little shocked and happy. He always wanted to spend time with her but never had a chance and here it was. “Ok. If you’re not being cynical, then that would be really cool. As long as you don’t laugh. Half of my ideas don’t work.”
“Half of my brain doesn’t work, so we’re pretty even.”
“Still can’t put the pieces together?”
“The rabbit hole goes deeper and deeper every day. Does E2 on the First Fourteen sound familiar to you?”
“Not in the least. Where’s that coming from?”
“Good question. It was written in this… oh never mind. I’m hoping something will jar my memory but it’s more complicated than that, I guess.”
“What about the dreams?”
“I still have those from time to time. It’s been getting worse. I try to keep my iPod playing while I sleep. It helps sometimes but once the batteries go…”
Another spark went off on one of Roger’s experiments. “OW! Shit!”
Abigail laughed. “Let me let you go before you kill yourself. Any final words for the eulogy?”
“SHUT UP!”
“Duly noted. Good night!” They hung up.
Abigail laid her head down on the pillow and tucked herself in. She liked to feel the fleece from the blanket run over her legs when she was tired. Her initial goal was to avoid sleep as much as possible, but her body needed rest. Her head continued to sink into the pillow. She fought the urge all night but couldn’t resist the desire to close her eyes. Her body was getting more and more comfortable. Sleep weighed over her body, sucking her in like a drain. Her head tilted to the side. Slowly she drifted into a deep slumber.
Abigail’s head moved frantically from side to side as her world spun from a dark city night into a murky rain forest, thick with trees and dense fog. She lay on the muddy soil in a fetal position, naked and cold. The black ground crept up over her body. She peeled her body out of the position and stood up. Her legs wobbled as if it was her first time walking. The trees towered over her, leaning inward with their upper branches tangling overhead. Black snakes slithered down the trucks and hissed all around. She stood in the midst of the shiny black bark that oozed down like crude oil over a rusty pipe. She snapped her neck around upon hearing a faint sound coming from the bushes. Suddenly, she heard feet pounding against black broken leaves,
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