“No, no,” her mind screamed out as she struggled out of her dream state. Forcing herself to a sitting position on the sofa where she had fallen into an exhausted sleep, Marcie tried to clear her mind from the senseless dream. What had frightened her so badly? The content of the dream eluded her but the feeling of being terrified remained.
Looking around, perplexed, Marcie tried to determine where she was and why she was on a sofa instead of her bed. She did not recognize the room. Was she still dreaming, she wondered? No. Her mind was still foggy and she had no idea of where she was or how she had gotten there but she was awake.
Cold shivers raced through her body as she tried to make her mind work. Pushing her hair out of her face, she looked more closely at the room. It was spacious with what looked like expensive furnishings. The sofa she was on was part of a matched set. The material was a soft leather, buttercup in color. There was a love seat and lounger close by with a round, glass topped table in the center of the grouping. Opposite were floor to ceiling windows showing a well-tended yard beyond. Heavy brocade drapes in a rich bronze hung perfectly at each end. There was a large archway leading to another part of the house. The wall behind the sofa displayed what looked like original paintings. The remaining wall had a large fireplace flanked on each side by French doors leading out to a covered brick patio. She had never been in this room before.
Terror filled her mind again as she tried to push the darkness away. Calmness and faith was what she needed, not panic. Then she noticed the figure of a man standing by the fireplace. How long had he been there watching her? Who was he? Since the room was in dark shadows Marcie could not make out his features. Marcie’s mind didn’t recognize anything and again the terror hit as she tried not to panic.
The man moved toward her slowly so he didn’t frighten her even more. As Marcie cowered in the corner of the sofa, he sat beside her taking one of her hands in his. She looked at his hand, strong and tanned with well-manicured nails. Slowly she raised her eyes to see his face and a jolt of recognition coursed through her. No, her mind screamed.
It couldn’t be, but it was. He was supposed to have died a month ago. She had attended his funeral and was still mourning his death. She had to be hallucinating. When he spoke his voice was soft with love. “Marcie,” he said, “it’s real and I am real,” His hand tightened on hers as she tried to pull away in a panic. No – No, it couldn’t be true or real. She was still in the nightmare.
“Listen to me” he said. I wasn’t on that plane when it went down. I missed my flight because I was in an accident and didn’t know what had happened until a few days ago,” He paused, not wanting to see the pain in her eyes. “I knew you wouldn’t trust anyone so I had you drugged and brought here to a friend’s house,”
Marcie searched his face for the truth and knew he was not lying to her. Joy replaced the terror of a few minutes ago and she relaxed against this man who was her father.
Time enough later for the details of what happened. Now was the time for just being.