82. Ticking Clock

Laura - At home
I find myself lying on a bed of black velvet inside an empty room with no windows or doors. The walls are lined floor-to-ceiling with bookshelves, each filled from top to bottom. The books are all different sizes and shapes, but they all have the same purpose: to fill the emptiness inside me.
“Because I’m hollow on the inside,” I whisper to myself.
Under the blanket next to me, there is a figure wrapped in the same black velvet. I reach out and remove the cover, revealing an old man. His skin is wrinkled and pale, and his hair is entirely white. He looks as if he is sleeping.
He slowly opens his eyes and looks at me. His hand comes up to touch my face but loses its vigor halfway through.
“Are you real?” I ask him.
He sighs, closing his eyes. Only a whisper of a breath escapes his lips. “Don’t be afraid, Laura. I’ll always love you.”
“No!” I scream. “This can’t be real. This man can’t be Paul.”
His strong features and soft gray eyes are the same. His voice is the same.
A single tear falls down his cheek, and I rush forward to wipe it away. But the scenery changes in the blink of an eye. I’m outdoors now. The air is crisp and cold, and white snow covers the ground.
There are eyes everywhere; every tree is a staring eyeball, every cloud an eye-shaped thing floating on top of a vast sea of clouds. All stare at me as I’m the center of attention, the one who stands alone in the middle of the crowd.
“No more! I want to end this!” I shout at the sky, my hands held out above me.
I jerk up from my bed, gasping for air. The bed sheets are white as I remember them. What I'm seeing now is reality, and I just woke up from a nightmare. This has to be it.
But why does everything around me feels so…so…wrong? Staring straight ahead, I take a deep breath and let it out.
The morning sun shines through the window, bringing with its glow a new day.
With a sigh, I sit up and look around. The puppy sleeps soundly next to the bed in the cushioned box I made for him. I smile at the sight of him, and a tear rolls down my cheek.
My little Bobita. I pet his head gently.
(A/N: Bobita is the name of the dog, a common name for a male dog in Romania. It means small bean in Romanian)
As I gaze toward the nightstand to grab the water bottle, I notice a small piece of paper with a note on it: “For Laura.”
A small smile spreads across my lips as I reach for the paper and read the note, a handwritten message from Paul.
[Something important came up, and I must leave early for work. I will be home in the afternoon. I love you, Paul]
My hands shake as I place the note back on the nightstand. Even if I know what I saw was just a dream, what I felt—what I’m still feeling—is very real.
I won’t—can’t—endure what Iustin has been through. I’m not strong enough to watch Paul suffer and die. And remaining by his side is like seeing a ticking clock above his head, counting down the seconds until the day he will inevitably die.
It’s wrong of me to think such things. I should be happy that I have someone to call mine. Someone I can share my life with. But my heart is too damaged for happiness.
If I were to keep my distance from Paul, it would be a betrayal of everything I care about in this world. Though I don’t know how I can cope with the pain of eventually losing Paul. It’s an impending sentence looming over my head like a dark cloud.
I take a step toward the closet to grab some clothes and make a run for it. But I stop when I realize he’ll find me wherever I go. Unless—
The doorbell rings, startling me. I dress in a hurry and rush to the front door. I open it to find Dan and Alin standing there, each of them holding a large package.
“Hey, Laura,” Dan says as Alin nods. “Paul sent us to bring these documents. He wants to work more from home from now on.” He looks down at the carton in his arms. “Where can we put these?”
“Oh.” I step to the side to let them in and point to a coffee table in the living room. “Just put them there. Paul will come by later and see to them.”
As the two men make their way to the living room, I pick up my purse and the keys from one of Paul’s cars.
“Hey, guys,” I say as I open the front door. “I have to go out for a bit. Can you watch the house and take care of Bobita until Paul comes back?”
I say that last part a touch too bossy.
Dan and Alin share a look. They don’t seem too fond of me right about now.
I groan inwardly. I never used to be so rude or arrogant. It’s a side effect of all the stress I have been holding inside me since I heard Iustin’s story.
Afraid they’ll refuse or ask questions I don’t have answers for, I hurry out the door.
“Laura, where are you going?” Dan calls out, but I don't look back.
The black sedan is parked down the driveway near the curb, so I hop in.
I know I have to drive off as soon as possible, but my hands are shaking so badly that I can barely hold the steering wheel. It’s hard to leave everything behind, especially Paul.
Pressing my forehead against the steering wheel, I take a deep breath and try to clear my head. Where should I go?
The only person I can think of is the gypsy witch. She knows more than she lets on, and I need her to tell me how I can end all this on my own terms. I have to go to her. Maybe she knows a way to free me from this curse once and for all.
My eyes wander to the dashboard, where the GPS unit sits quietly. I deactivate it so no one can track the car.
Exhaling deeply, I start the black sedan and drive off. After what seems like forever but only two seconds, I turn onto the main road. I glance at the rearview mirror to check if anyone is following me. A sigh of relief accompanies the acknowledgment that no one trails behind me.
My hands are steady now on the wheel as I head to the highway leading to the witch’s house.