Miles away, Rachel Marino let out a soft moan as she lifted her head from the pillow. Her dreams had been so frightening; so much screaming! Her head was pounding, but it had to be time to get ready for class. She could feel the light through her eyelids, which usually meant it was close to 11am. She strained to hear any indication of her roommate’s presence; usually she was already up slamming pans in the kitchen and blaring that goddamn twisted metal shit. Trying to ease her way into the day, Rachel tried her trick of opening one eye first, and then the other. Only, her eyes wouldn’t open. Or, when they did open, she saw nothing but darkness. How is this possible, she thought? My eyes are open, I know they are. I can feel the light. She began to panic, and when she tried to sit up a heavy pressure weighed on her chest. Panicked, she began frantically trying to push herself off the bed. But she couldn’t move. With tears streaming down her face, she laid still on her bed, calling out for help.
After what seemed like an eternity, she heard a key inserted into the lock on the front door. A soft click was followed by the sqeaking of the hinges. Never did she think she would appreciate the horrendous sound of poor maintenance. Soft footsteps alerted her to her roommate’s approach.
“Keeli!” she cried out, “please, hurry!” Her tears had long since dried, her fear replaced by despair. Her life, her dreams, never to be seen—suddenly, everything came into view: her pink jacket, draped across the chair; Matt Damon, gazing down at her from the ceiling. She quickly sat up, then clutched her chest.
“What? Did ya need somethin’?” Keeli asked, her irritation emphasized by her southern accent.
“I couldn’t…and then I…but now…” Rachel sputtered.
“Oh, so ya couldn’t, but now ya can. Seems like everythin’ is fine now.” Keeli said, and promptly turned and walked the door. Rachel sighed, resting her head back against the wall. It wasn’t bad enough that she had had to stop cheerleading the previous year, unable to stay healthy long enough to participate. Now, on top of everything else, she was losing control over her body too? The one thing she had fought so hard for control over was now being taken from her grasp.
Walter Aldridge had just taken the tea kettle off of the stove when he heard a knock at the door.
1) He thinks it is the police, coming to arrest him. He opens the door after he hears the sobs of a young woman. Turns out, she was involved in the car crash.
2) Rachel continues to have dreams haunting her; horrific events that have never really happened as far as she knows.
3) I would like the story to somehow become resolved so that the reader finds out that Walter was charged with the murder of his daughter Alyssa, and ran off to the woods under an alias. The young woman who comes to the door after the crash helps him heal emotionally as he must help her to heal physically. Rachel ends up being Alyssa, and her dreams are repressed memories of the events that led to her disappearance. Somewhere in there Walter would have to have flashbacks of the crime scene/interrogations/etc while recounting to the young woman (who is yet to be named).
**Keeli is now the name of my dog, so I need a different name for that particular character.