The Ghost Writer (4)

Yes, yes I know it has been a while, but that’s alright. You can always go back and read the last three installments. (Found under the category Fictional Thoughts)

*Copyrighted*

______________________________________________________

Casidi didn’t want to fall asleep. The dream would come back, it would end up written up on her typewriter, and things would just be weirder.

She called Dean up.

“Baby it’s two in the morning. Don’t we have church tomorrow?” He answered.

“Yeah, but I can’t sleep. This dream thing is really weirding me out.”

“It’s only been two nights.”

“Well, yeah, a recurring dream is one thing. A recurring dream that ends up on my typewriter the next morning, complete with editing? That’s something else entirely. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Then put away your typewriter. You can’t type anything up if it’s put away.”

“Oh… that’s a good idea.”

“Get some sleep, beautiful. Coffee before church?”

“It’s a date, handsome.”

“Ok. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Casidi felt her body relax. Nothing beat hearing her man say those words.

“Goodnight.”

Dean hung up and Casidi set to putting away her typewriter. It went in it’s case in the closet across the room. She pulled the sliding door closed and promptly fell asleep.

………

She and Dean were in a car. But his name wasn’t Dean here. It was Charlie.

“Where are we?”

“On our way to San Antonio. That’s where the answers are.”

“That’s hundreds of miles away.” Dream Casidi went with the bizarre scenario, hoping it would make more sense.

“Not anymore. We’ve been on the road for three hours. We’re getting close.”

“Dean did you do this?” Casidi gestured to her bandaged side.

Dean/Charlie glanced over. “No, you did that. We stopped at a gas station remember? And stop calling me Dean. I don’t know who this Dean guy is, but there better not be anything going on with you and him.” He looked rather put out.

“Sorry. I’m still light-headed from… blood loss.”

Charlie’s face softened. “Does it hurt baby?”

Casidi focused on her side and washed in mind-numbing pain. “Oh!” She gasped. “A lot!”

“We’ll get you to a doctor after we get to San Antonio. We just can’t risk going anywhere else.”

“Who’s after us?!”

Something smashed into the side of their vehicle.

……….

Casidi shot out of bed as her alarm rang the beginning of Sunday morning. She hopped out of bed and got in the shower. Her mind was reeling. How was this dream continuing every night?

She didn’t feel rested at all. Her sheets indicated that it had been a restless night.

Casidi leaned against the wall of the shower and yelped in pain. Craning her neck, she spotted a large purple bruise on the back of her upper arm.

“What the-” Obviously she had been a bit more restless than she thought.

She dried off, put on a dress, and was on her way out the door to meet Dean when her peripheral vision caught something. Her typewriter was out of it’s case, by her bed, with two new sheets typed up cleanly.

Advertisements

Whatcha thinking?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s