The Curse of the Good Samaritan

Chapter 1

A strange strangled cry breaks the silence of a dark and muggy Florida night. Inside an older two-story home, Abby Christianson, recent widow, suddenly bolts upright in bed. She’s drenched in sweat and her heart pounds in fear as she tries to locate and identify the sound that woke her, what was that? It came from inside this room! Her heart continues to race as she struggles to free herself from tangled sheets. Her eyes strain to pierce the heavy cloak of darkness in her room. She calls out tentatively, “Who’s there? What do you want?” Her hand trembles as she reaches for and turns on the bedside lamp. She looks around realizing, no one is in here. The house alarm didn’t go off . . . Then she remembers, I was dreaming. It was a nightmare. I was trying to call for help. I must have made the sound that woke me.

The dream had been so vivid that she’s still able to recall some of the bizarre details because they were in color. She reaches for the journal and pen that she keeps in the nightstand beside her bed, finds the next empty page, dates it and begins to write:

I just had another horrible dream, the third one this week. In each dream, I’m being chased by a faceless man, but this time he catches me and ties me up with yellow duct tape, not black, not blue, but yellow! That was crazy! What would yellow represent, cowardness? I have no idea. All I knew was, I was sure I was about to die and was trying desperately, to call for help.

Frowning slightly and bringing the tip of the pen to her lips, she worries, I wonder what would happen to me, if the time ever came, when I couldn’t wake up from a dream? Would I die? Surely not!

She continues to speculate, why am I having these terrible dreams again? Is it because I’m living alone now and I’m not used to that? I think it’s because I don’t feel safe in this house anymore. She’s aware of the sudden prick of a painful memory, but quickly tells herself, no, it can’t be that. That happened too long ago, it has to be something else.

Abby closes her journal, still trying to analyze her most recent dream. My nightmares all seem to follow the same theme, someone is trying to kill me, I’m screaming for help, but no one comes because I’m alone.

She returns the book and pen to the nightstand drawer, gets up and puts on the yellow silk robe that has been lying at the foot of her bed. She slides her feet into matching slippers and begins walking around the house rechecking the locks on each door and every window, a ritual that she had already performed earlier that night as well as every other night, ever since the funeral.

Abby would admit to anyone who asks, that she hates living alone and has been seriously considering moving, and even more-so, since she learned about the recent break-ins in her neighborhood. However, her friends and family have all advised her to wait at least a year before making any big decisions and so she’s been waiting.

She walks back to her bedroom, sits down on the bed with shoulders slumped, and considers her situation. Days are bad, I miss having someone in the house, someone to talk to, but nights are worse, because of the nightmares. I remember when I was a child and had night terrors, I knew that I could crawl into bed and sleep with a sister who would comfort me. I still had nightmares as a teen, but they eventually stopped after I married Jake. But now the nightmares have returned. They started after Jake died, and after my son and daughter-in-law, moved back into their own home. Abby laughs at herself as she thinks, the problem is, I don’t have anyone to crawl into bed with anymore. I am all alone in this big house and I don’t like it!

She sits still for a few minutes longer, her head lowered and her eyes closed, and begins to pray silently, Dear God, what should I do? Please help me make the right decision.

After a few more minutes, she opens her eyes and stands up, having made her decision, I’m moving. I don’t care what anyone else says. I’m not going to put it off any longer. I’m going to move to a place where I will feel safe.

Her expression changes briefly, to one of apprehension, as she considers, I wonder what Jake would say. But she already knows what Jake would say. He would say, “You don’t need to move, this house is already paid for and it isn’t necessary.” She can visualize him saying all of those things because she has heard him say those same words to her many times in the past. Jake usually made all of the decisions, but Jake isn’t here anymore.

She looks at her watch and sees that it’s not even five am. It’s too early to make any phone calls, but I’m wide awake. I might as well stay up.

As Abby heads for the shower, she is completely unaware, that on this very same night, but in a very different location, another woman experiences a similar, yet very different nightmare. However, that woman wasn’t sleeping, and now, that woman will never dream again.