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Disclaimer:
Just a note: This is not the story in it's entirety. I would just like to get some advice on how I can make this better, or even different ways to go. Any advice is appreciated.



ONE

The third restless night drifted by in a series of infomercials and panic attacks. The same dream had drifted through her self conscious mind and emerged in a morbid dream. A lean, tan stranger came into town. Though attractive, she caught a dangerous glimpse in his eye, almost like he held the potential to hold in the palm of his hand, her very life. He had a mole above the left corner of his lip, and a smile that would lure any woman, girl, anybody away from their lover.

In this dream, she found happiness, for the first half at least. She couldn’t explain where the happiness originated. Maybe it was the idea that for a single fleeting moment everything in her life was perfect. There was wind in her hair, warmth on her face, and suddenly an attractive man at her side. They grew friendly and as days progress she fell in love with what was as she learned a dark soul. Someone that would never share all their secrets, feelings or thoughts. Always something lagging on the end of their thoughts or biting their tongue after every sentence. She showered on him all the smiles, hugs, kisses, tears and words of comfort that her small frame and quiet demeanor would allow. Though she knew he loved her, she also felt something was wrong. Here was where her dream turned into a nightmare.

On the beach she lay reading a novel. Seeing the sunset she gathered her belongings and headed home. On the horizon she saw him and waved. She ran closer to greet her lover, but she saw a look in his eye. He had on what looked like a priest clothing, a black suit with a white strip hidden in the collar. He took a white handkerchief and gingerly wiped the sweat from his face. With a quick hand movement he produced a horde of people with wooden stakes who struck terror in the heart of all in the vicinity.

Like hungry unleashed dogs they attacked the beach-goers. She closed her eyes to register the mayhem, to try and make sense of it, maybe even hoping it would all go away. She fretfully opened her eyes only to see bodies laying lifeless in the sand and others running panicked to some, any type of haven. She looked at him, drew closer, thinking the chaos would cease once she could just touch, comfort, do anything to ease his rigid face and stern expression. As she took another step, his rigid face went from stern to a look of pure delusion. She took a step back and in that moment, she that if she didn’t run, she would be another lifeless body on the beach. He raised a wooden stake, she was caught like a deer in the headlights. She braced herself as the stake plunged through her back.

Of course at this moment, she awoke with a feeling of pure terror and a subsiding pain in her back. Out of breath and soaked with sweat she walked into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. She had always seen it in the movies, but it offered her no comfort. She stared at herself in the mirror for a long time and at last said 'what the hell is your problem Ronnie Thomas? She turned the light off and slammed the door behind her. She wearily threw herself on the couch and watched the latest infomercial about roasting chicken.

At 5’4 and 115 pounds, the late night dreams had left Ronnie looking smaller and more tired than she usually looked. Already burning the candles at both ends, she was attending graduate school full time and working full time. Her day began at 7am and didn’t end until after midnight.

Quote:
“Ronnie? You alright?”
screamed a voice from down the hall of her two bedroom apartment.
Quote:
“Fine”
Ronnie fired back with sarcasm. Just having some pesky dreams about dying.

A door creaked open, slowly illuminating the soft glow of a candle inches at a time. Ronnie’s roommate, Alexa, gracefully walked out, with eyes fully shielded from the glow of the television, and plopped down by Ronnie, giving her a look mixed with anger and curiosity.

Quote:
“What?”
Ronnie shot defensively.
Quote:
“Don’t get mad at me,”
she quipped, Quote:
“you’re the one slamming doors and waking me up!”

Quote:
Sorry
Ronnie mumbled, not really meaning it.
Quote:
It’s alright
she said and dismissed it with a wave of her delicately manicured hand.
Quote:
Did you have one of your dreams again
Alexa asked. Ronnie just nodded, and continued to watch tv, hoping to avoid conversation, instead Alexa took it as an invitation to continue talking.
Quote:
You have them at least once a week, every since I moved in. Is there something you’re not telling me?


Even if there was, Ronnie never would have told Alexa. Alexa was just someone Ronnie dealt with in order to cover half the rent. She had decided at the beginning of her second year of school that she needed someone to help pay the bills and Alexa was the first to answer the ad she placed in the school paper. Alex was 20 and beautiful. She had long dark hair with skin the color and texture of porcelin, her body consisted of all legs. Unfortunately she also had a penchant for binge drinking and boys, lots of boys. However, she slept away most of the day when not in class, so Ronnie didn’t have to worry about interaction. The extent of their conversations usually dealt with a post-it on the refrigerator about due dates for bills.

Just as Alexa was about to start in on Ronnie again, a half naked man emerged from her room, stumbled around the hall until finding the bathroom, and closing the door.
Quote:
I invited a friend over
she said nonchalantly.
Quote:
That’s nice
Ronnie said rolling her eyes back towards the tv.
Quote:
Well I guess I’ll go back to bed
hinting that she’d like to stay up.
Quote:
Sounds like a good idea,
Ronnie said now watching the anonymous male emerge from the bathroom, scratch his butt, and walk back into Alexa’s room.

As Alexa walked toward her room, Ronnie prepared for another night on the couch. She could never go back to sleep once having had one of her dreams. She stretched out her small body, with her feet not quite reaching the end. She drifted off to sleep listening to products that made rust and dirt disappear. She wondered if they would make her dreams disappear.

TWO

If there was ever a reason to scream out loud at the top of your lungs, here it was. Because she forgot to set the alarm clock by the couch, she got a late start. As she ran down the street to catch her bus, it started raining, and of course she had no umbrella. Of course she missed her bus, so she had to wait for the next one. While waiting, a taxi cub rushed by the curb and splashed her with muddy water that had collected between the street and the gutter. After drying off at work, she continued her day like any other.

The night, is when she decided to make a change. Not one for drinking, or even having a little unsolicited fun, she felt she could ease some tension, and perhaps pass out long enough to not dream, if she had a drink. She went to a local bar on campus. One that was dark and dank. The only music that played would be on a juke box.

She ordered a beer and replayed the rest of her not so ordinary day at work. Besides her crappy morning, her afternoon hadn’t been much better. She ran into Steve, who for all intents and purposes, was her ex. Steve was tall, chiseled and handsome. He belonged on the cover of a GQ magazine, not working toward his masters degree in sociology, or so she thought. He had a clean shaven head, wore glasses, and smiled easily.

Ronnie met him at a school function. They continued to run into each other around the campus and eventually he asked her out. She accepted, although she wasn’t sure why. He was cute, smart, and nice, but nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing that made him exceptionally special. After two months of dating, and although still not smitten, she was comfortable with him. Comfortable enough to shed her insecurities and clothes. She and Steve shared her first time together. The very next day, she returned to his apartment to get a book she left. She found him in a similar naked position with a different woman. He tried for weeks to contact her to apologize to no avail. What he didn’t know was that Ronnie just never cared enough to be mad. Like most other experiences in her life, she tucked it away and never spoke of it. Even if it did bother her, she wouldn’t think about it long enough to let it register. She continued on with things as they had been before.

Today, he had approached her in the library. Her tucked away memory of her and Steve, and Steve and the other woman, shot like lightning through her brain. And just like that, was gone once again.
Quote:
Hi Ronnie
he said.
Quote:
“Hello”
she said, looking up for a second and focusing back on her book.
He looked at her, trying to get her attention.
Quote:
“I tried to call you”
he said.
Quote:
“I know”
she replied.
Quote:
“I wanted to apologize”

Quote:
“For what?”

Quote:
“For what I did to you”
he said.
Quote:
“And what is it you think you did?”
she snapped finally looking at him.
He was speechless, he had thought up a couple scenarios in which he could finally apologize to Ronnie, but none of them started or ended like this. He was speechless.
Quote:
“I…uhh…I thought…well, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
He finally spattered out.
Quote:
“You didn’t”
she said softly, starring straight into his grey eyes, conveying the message that not only did she not want to be having this conversation, she didn’t care about their time together. When Steve finally realized this, he felt used. He felt like he should get an apology.
Quote:
“Did it mean anything to you?”
he asked, the words surprisingly escaping his lips.
Quote:
“Excuse me?”
Ronnie said as though she hadn’t heard any part of this conversation.
Quote:
“Look I was only with that girl to talk, I just needed someone to talk to. And…one thing let to another. You never talked to me, you never let me know what you were thinking or what you felt. You are so smart and beautiful, and even funny when you’re not putting up some pretend shield. But I needed more, I just needed more from you.”


In the dim light of the “The Library”, the bar she was at, she thought of how much more she could have given Steven. Perhaps a couple more choice words, or precise gestures. It wasn’t like Ronnie to be mad, angry, or even sad. She was one of the most even people you could meet. Or Steve might say, unfeeling. Tonight, she would blame it on the alcohol.

She was on her third beer when she received a call...



Author's Note:
*That's all I would like to get dissected for now. Please help!!*





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The following comments are for "DreamCatcher"
by DreamStar224





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