Entry Twenty-One

This is what I call "Sarah Taking the Plunge". I never seem to take the time to just take an idea and go with it. I'm pretty sure that I spend most of my time simply overthinking things. I write with the intent to be perfect. Writig is rarely if ever perfect in the first stages. I usually put the first stages in a notebook. Then I tweak and SOMETIMES transfer here. I've seen all the good thats done me. How far have I gotten with that method? Almost nowhere. So this is the plan. I'm going to start typing and see where it takes me. I'm not sure where I'm going to start or stop or even what the destination is. Just know that it pertains to my more promising project Bus Stories. I have decided that Spero will just have to be put on the shelf until it's breakthrough comes along. I hope you enjoy my flurry of posting lately. It probably wont happen again. I also hope that you enjoy my attemts at getting something out there. I'm tired of running in place with the story.

Here it goes...Hold your breath.

I was first aware of a rush of slience that left my ears roaring. But only for a split second. Then to my left there was a soft beep. It was shortly followed by another, and then another. Each beep followed the one before it in a steady pattern. Like a strict regiment of soldiers keeping a slow cadence. I decided it was a good time to open my eyes. I saw a white sea with little pricks of darkness. Everything smelled like a doctors office. Too perfectly clean. I looked on my right. There was my arm and in it there was a needle. My throat closed up and the beeping picked up the pace. The pricks followed my gaze and turned to white spots as I closed my eyes again. I took several deep breaths. Assesment: I was in a hospital and they had me hooked up to an I.V. Hospital I could deal with. I.V.? That was a different matter. Needles were on the top of a very short list titled "things Rebecca cannot handle". Amusing since I had once wanted to be a veterinarian. I watited for the beeping to slow again and the spots to give into total darkness. I decided that it was safe to have another look around the room, this time avoiding my arm. It was a typical hospital room. The lights were kept dim. There were monitering machines to my left where the beeping originated from. There was a tv attached to the wall in one corner. There was a window on the right wall. No sun peeked through the closed blinds so it must still be night. Night. Why was I here anyway? I was too afraid to examine my body further in the chance I would find another needle so I tried moving my limbs. Left leg, right leg, hips. Just as I felt a stab in my left shoulder as I moved it the door to my room opened. In walked a slender brunette wearing flowerd scrubs. She held a clipboard and had a stethoscope around her neck. She looked more like a daytime drama actress than a nurse. I half expected her to say "I'm pregnant with your fathers baby and we share the same mother" or something similar. Instead she said 'Well! It' nice to see you awake miss Brighton. How are you feeling?'

I didn't have a deffinitive answer for her, so I shruged. A mistake because there was the pain in my shoulder. I hissed and winced.

'Oh, that would be your shoulder. Try not to move too much. You've sustained several injuries.'

How, when, and where were some of the questions running through my mind. The one that mattered most at the moment was...

'How?'

She looked at me in surprise.

'You mean you don't remember what happened?'

Not sure if shaking my head would cause pain I answered a simple 'No'. She frowned and took a deep breath. She opened her mouth to speak, but let the breath out instead.

'Let me go find your doctor. I'll be right back.'

Before I could argue she had wisked quietly out of the room. A minute later she came back followed by a large, heavy set man with gray hair and a bushy mustache.

'Miss Brighton! Or would you rather be called Rebecca?' he asked in a higher voice than I would expect out of a man his size.

'Becca is fine,' I answered struggeling to fight my rising unease.

'Alright, Becca. I'm Dr. Jones and this is nurse Alana. How are you feeling?'

I gave as honest an answer as I could knowing as little as I did.

'A bit groggy. Confused.'

Dr. Jones nodded his head and made some marks on the clipboard the nurse had handed him.

'Yes, Alana mentioned that you don't seem to know why you're here. You don't know how you were injured?'

'No. Not really. I'm not even sure how injured I am'

'Oh it's nothing too serious. You dislocated your shoulder, sustained some minor trauma to the left side of your head, a few other bumps and bruises. Whats the last thing that you do remember?'

I thought for a moment.

'Leaving work. Driving home...then here.'

The doctor jotted some more notes. He was silent for a significant stretch. The whole time I could hear the beeping of my heart moniter giving away my mounting fear.

'Dr. Jones, I would rather you just tell me what happened right away. I'm pretty sure the tension is killing me.'

I tried to sound light and unconcered. The oppsite of what I felt. Dr. Jones nodded his head three times. cleared his throat.

'There was a car accident invloving you and another vehicle.'

Entry Twenty

I'm engaged. That in itself would have been weird enough.

More than that it is who I am engaged to. Tall, dark hair a mess, glasses, strong jaw. No...not Harry Potter (though he very well could be the adult version). No, his name is D**** K*****. He teaches my Ecosystem Management class and until now he was just another person that rattled around in my brain.

On top of it all I am acutely aware of how little I know this man. I can't even remember when or how he proposed to me. I wish I could say that I am feeling the normal feelings of a soon to be bride. But it's hard to be sure what you feel when it's all happening so fast.

We are in a large theater. Waiting for the presentation to start. I'm not exactly sure what it's going to be over. I just know that I'm here with Dr. K*****...I mean D****. So it must be something over birds in French Polynesia. I spot someone I know. Sarah Pabst.

Now what is she doing here? I walk into the theater with D**** by my side. I go directly to Sarah who is in the nosebleed section. D**** heads closer to the front. Torn, I follow Dylan and stop him.

"I have a friend sitting up there," I whisper. Why am I whispering? "I think she might need me"I add. D**** does not say a word but takes my hand and lets me lead him the the section where Sarah is. She's not surprised that I am engaged. So why should I be?

There's still this feeling that I should know more about D****. I should remember loving him at one point. Why is this all wrong? We take our seats and the lights dim.

And then I awaken. No wonder everything was off. Since when does life in my dreams make sense? I shake my head and wonder at the strangeness of me being engaged to D**** K*****.

How embarrassing would it be if he could read peoples dreams in their eyes and he saw me being engaged to him.

I admit that I find Dr. K***** attractive, amusing, and I like his outlook on conservation. But he is far too absorbed in his work. I would need to marry someone willing to spend more than a few months in the U.S.A.

Dreams are funny windows into our complicated and shuffled minds.