In the night, in the dark place between sleep and awake I hear foot steps. Only in the darkness she comes to me. Never have I seen her. She whispers in my ear, but I never understand what she says. I feel a cold hand brush across my face. Why does she come to me? What does she want? Her fingers run through my hair. Every night is the same. I refuse to open my eyes and turn the light on.
My days drudge on, each the same, nothing different. My nights are unchanging, but her presence makes me feel, something. Its as though she’s all that is holding me together. If ever there’s a night without her I might just fall apart. Every night I close my eyes, every night she comes, and each time I feel like I’m closer to understanding her words.
Not for the first time, I have to stay late at work, but this time it isn’t until well after midnight that I get home. Well after I normally go to bed. So tired form the hours if mindless work, staring at a screen till it feels like my eyes should be bleeding. I drag myself to bed, lay down close my eyes, try to sleep. Something’s wrong. I can’t sleep. I am with out her presence. I rollover, still alone, sleep evades me. I roll back. Nothing. No presence, no sleep. I get up, in the dark. This is ridiculous, I’m so tired, and yet I can’t sleep. I start to pace. I stub my toe on a chair-leg, swearing, hopping, I topple a pile of books on the floor. I swear again. Still I don’t turn a light on. I’m not afraid of the dark. Not exactly. It’s more of what the dark holds, If its dark then I can’t see it, I feel safe, I think. I hope. If I turn a light on then I might see what’s there. Do I want this?
In the dark, I dress, and leave. Outside the street is dimly lit. Its cold, but I don’t care . I walk.
I can see my breath in puffs, the ground sparkles, ice crunches beneath my feet. I am alone. That’s nothing new. I’ve always been alone, haven’t I? No friends at school, nor after. Always alone, not that it bothers me. When I’m around people I never know what to say. So alone I stay.
I find that I’ve walked to the river. Its so quiet here, I lean on the wall and watch the stars reflected in the rippling water. It’s not dark, but there’s not much light either. Alone. I have no one to care if anything happens to me. The river is moving swiftly, my clothes thick against the chill. Were I to fall in, I would sink and be swept away. There would be no one to notice, I’d just slip away. Without knowing it I climb onto the wall. A heartbeat to oblivion. Just one step
I feel her light touch on my neck, like ice. I close my eyes, I still am afraid of what she looks like. Is she old, young, disfigured like some monster, whichever she is I don’t want to know. But then, through my fear I feel compelled, slowly, I open my eyes. I don’t turn, I remain with my eyes locked on the river. The starlight dancing across its surface, and then I see it, floating in the icy water, a body.
I run down the steps to the waters edge, hoping to get there before it drifts past. I catch a hand, cold in the icy water, and pull the body toward me. I struggle with the current for its grip on the unmoving form, eventually I manage to get back up the stairs, carrying the body of a young woman. I can’t tell if she’s dead or not. I lay her on the Icy grass, and check for a pulse. Nothing. I roll her onto her side, water runs from her mouth, I roll her back. I’ve done the course, everyone has, but I’ve never needed it until now. I do as I was taught. At first there is no response, but then she coughs. Her eyes flutter open, I can’t tell what colour they are in the darkness. She is alive, when I wanted to be dead, I saved her.
I pull my coat off and wrap it around her, she’s shivering in a nightgown. She tries to stand. I won’t let her. I should take her to a hospital, but I don’t have my phone. I pick her up, she weighs little, and carry her home. When I suggest taking her to a hospital she refuses. Instead, I remove most of my clothes, and help her to stand in the shower. I wish, for the first time that I had a bath. I help her to remove the sodden night gown, then dry her and find a shirt for her to wear, before helping her in to bed. I find some dry shorts and a shirt for me, and climb in beside her. Combined body heat should help her. She snuggles against me and whispers her thanks.
I am woken by sunlight streaming in through the window onto my pillow. I feel a warm body pressed against me, a small hand on my chest, a head on my shoulder. She stirs when I move. She looks at me with eyes so dark they’re almost black. I ask her how she is. She says she feels a lot better, now that she’s warm and dry. I ask her what happened, how did she end up in the river?
She tells me she had a dream, she could hear someone calling to her. So she followed the voice and fell off a bridge. She must have been sleep-walking.
She stays with me for several weeks. I go to work, and come home to a meal on the table. We watch tv together, make love and sleep. Sometimes we go for a walk. Then one day I wake up alone. There’s a note on the pillow.
I’ve gone back to the bridge. It’s not my time to be in this place. We will be together again. You will know it is me. If I stay much longer I will cause you pain, this time around.
And as the water closes over my head, I will think of you. I love you.
Something hot and wet runs down my cheek. It splashes onto the note. She’s gone, I feel alone. I don’t go to work. I stay in bed, the bed she is missing from. I watch the news, hoping for some mention of a body being found in the river. But, nothing. It’s as though she never existed. From the river she came, to the river she returned, and took my heart. Night falls and I try to sleep.
I hear foot steps. Only She whispers in my ear, but this time I understand what she says. “I love you.” I feel a cold hand brush across my face. Her fingers run through my hair. I open my eyes, I am not afraid anymore. I turn to see her. Moonlight shines through her pale form. “Come with me,” she whispers. How can I resist? I follow her out to the river, to the bridge. Its cold out, but I don’t care. We will be together soon. This time and place didn’t suit us. We hope the next one will. I step off the bridge.
The waters close above my head, I breathe out, and slowly sink downward. She smiles beside me. Eternity or the next life, we will be together.
