2:15 AM

Stephanie sat up in bed. What startled her? She did not know. She looked at her clock. It was 2:15 AM. “Shit,” she said out loud, “today is only Wednesday.”

She thought nothing about what woke her. Perhaps it was a noise from the street. Maybe it was a neighbor opening their apartment door. It was quiet. It was dark. Stephanie turned on her side and closed her eyes. She could still get another four hours of sleep before getting up.

She took a deep breath and almost gagged. “What the fuck is that smell?” It was disgusting. Where was it coming from? Stephanie got up. She turned on the light. The smell went away. How strange. Perhaps she was still half asleep and still dreaming. But her dreams were always visual. She had never experienced a smell in her dreams.

She turned off the light and again lay on her side. She heard the breathing; heavy breathing. A very long and loud inhale immediately followed by a very long and loud exhale. It happened again. Then it happened a third time. Stephanie felt panic. She sat up in her bed and turned on the light. The breathing stopped. There was complete silence broken ever so gently by the sound of the winter wind blowing outside.

Stephanie got out of bed, slowly looking around her room. There was nothing unusual or out of place. She went into the living room and then the kitchen. Everything was in order. She returned to the living room and sat on the couch. She had turned on all the lights in the apartment.

A few moments went by. Stephanie got up, walked over to her living room window, and looked out. The falling snowflakes glittered as they reflected light from the street lamps below. She looked toward the corner. The snowflakes passing near the traffic lights took on shades of green and red. The streets below were devoid of souls. Occasionally, a car went by, leaving tracks in the fresh snow.

Stephanie returned to the couch in the living room. She sat down and looked around in all directions. “You are being silly,” she said to herself. She got up, walked to the kitchen, opened the freezer, and took out a Klondike Bar. It was vanilla surrounded by dark chocolate. Klondike Bars always gave her comfort. She laughed to herself as she remembered Deidre's reaction the last time she went to put something in the freezer and found there was no room because of all the Klondike bars. Deidre was her very best friend. She considered calling her now but decided not to wake her.

She unwrapped the ice cream, placed it in a bowl, and then put it in the microwave. Fourteen seconds made it perfect. It melted the ice cream just enough to make it soft, but the chocolate stayed hard enough that she could lift it off and eat it independently of the vanilla ice cream. With enough Klondike Bars, no one would ever need a therapist.

She sat on the living room couch again, folded her ankles under her, turned on the television, and found an episode of M.A.S.H. As a little girl, she had always watched reruns with her dad. Watching it now always brought back great childhood memories. She missed her dad, but doing things that they used to do together made her feel like he was watching over her.

As she watched the television, she ate the ice cream. She ate the chocolate first. Then she ate the vanilla with deliberate intent. She allowed each spoonful of the vanilla to melt in her mouth, and then she swallowed it slowly. Seventeen spoonfuls later, the ice cream was gone.

It was amazing. One Klondike Bar, a few minutes of M.A.S.H., and the world was perfect. Stephanie smiled. How easy it was to become startled. She was glad she had a simple, failsafe remedy to become at ease again.

Stephanie went back to the kitchen and washed the ice cream bowl and the spoon. She hated dirty dishes and never went to bed as long as there was a single item in the sink. Although she had a dishwasher, it was never used. Each item was washed by hand as it was used. There were never enough dishes to fill the dishwasher. She put the bowl and spoon in the drain tray and turned off the light. She went to the living room and turned off that light. She was on her way back to the bedroom, and then she thought, “What the heck. I’m up. I might as well pee.” She went to the bathroom, sat on the toilet, and relieved herself. Stephanie thought it was unbelievable that a really good pee could bring so much relief. Ah, the little miracles of life. The human body was a fabulous machine.

Stephanie returned to her bedroom. She had already turned off all of the other lights in the apartment. She sat on her bed and turned off the lamp on her night table. Before she lay down, she heard it. “Stephanie,” said the voice. It was a low female voice. Perhaps it was a man’s voice. She could not be sure. Stephanie froze. “Stephanie,” repeated the voice. Stephanie sighed, “Oh my God.” She got up quickly and turned on the lamp. She ran through the apartment and turned on every light. She turned on the televisions in the bedroom and the living room. She grabbed a blanket and wrapped herself in it. She sat on the floor with her back leaning against the door leading out of the apartment.

In what seemed like a few moments, the alarm startled her. It was 6:30 AM; time to get ready for work.

***

Cindy felt as if someone was shaking her. She stirred in her bed, thinking she had had a bad dream. It happened again. She knew she was no longer asleep. It could not be a dream. She sat up in her bed and looked at her clock. It was 2:15 AM. “Damn,” she thought.

Cindy turned on her light. She got up and walked to the apartment door. The door was locked. She checked the four windows in her apartment. They were all locked. “I must be imagining things,” she thought to herself. “Damn it. How hard is it going to be to fall asleep again? It’s Thursday. I have to work twelve hours. I need my sleep.”

Cindy walked into her kitchen. She grabbed a small package of fig bars, containing two cookies, opened the refrigerator door, and grabbed a flexible container of Capri Sun Mountain Cooler. She walked her treasures back to her bed and turned on the television. The Ed Show was rerunning on MSNBC. Very carefully, she inserted the straw into the drink container. She ate one of the cookies and sucked on the straw. The container collapsed as the cold drink went gently down her throat.

She ate her second cookie and inhaled the rest of the drink. When she had finished her snack, she crushed the cookie wrapper and the drink container and laid the packaging on the snack table she kept in her room. She turned off the light and the television, lay on her bed, and covered herself with a sheet, a blanket, and a comforter. She always felt secure under her covers.

For some reason, it was hot under the covers. No, it was not warm. It was hot; extremely hot. Cindy threw off her covers and found herself feeling very cold. She exhaled through her mouth. There was no vapor. She got up and walked to the thermostat in the living room, turning on the living room light along the way. It showed a temperature of seventy degrees. The temperature felt good.

Cindy walked back into her bedroom. She shivered. She went back to the living room. It was warm. “What the hell?” she thought. She closed her bedroom door and lay down on the living room couch. After thinking about it for a few moments, she decided she would call the super in the morning. She turned off the living room light. It immediately became cold in the living room.

Cindy was shocked. She turned the light back on. The temperature felt normal. She turned off the light, and the cold returned. She walked over to the thermostat. Using the light from her cell phone as a flashlight, she read the thermostat: seventy degrees. Yet, it was freezing.

She turned the light back on and walked back into her freezing bedroom. She turned the bedroom light on. The bedroom temperature returned to normal. “I’m losing my mind,” Cindy said aloud. She lay in her bed, leaving the light on, and pulled her covers up to her nose. The next thing she knew, it was 7:00 AM.

***

It was Friday morning. Robert opened his eyes. Tasha, his wife, was soundly sleeping at his side. The only light in the room came from the digital clock on the night table. It was 2:15 AM.

Robert decided to get up and go to the bathroom. He could not move. He could turn his head, but the rest of his body was paralyzed. He panicked. He tried to call out to Tasha, but he could not speak. He felt a pressing weight on his chest as if a two-hundred-pound weight was lying on him. Although the room was dark, he could see, feel, or sense a shadow above him. He was not sure which. Perhaps he was having a nightmare. It felt so real. But he was not back in Afghanistan. Tasha was at his side.

Tasha stirred and rubbed against him. Robert tried to touch her and perhaps wake her. It was no use. If he could not reach her with his head, Tasha would not respond. She did not seem to be in any trouble. Whatever was happening to him was not affecting her. That meant it was a dream. What other explanation could there be?

The room became pitch black. The light from the street lamps below, which up to now had crept in along the edges of the curtains, was gone. Now, there was no light.

The room became extremely cold, yet Robert was sweating like he was in a sauna. The bedroom door was closed. There was light coming through along the outline of the door, but Robert was sure the living room light was off. The light changed as if shadows were created by someone moving on the other side. Who could be there? Tasha and Robert lived alone.

Robert was lifted five feet off his bed, almost touching the ceiling, by what he did not know. He was dropped back down. Tasha did not stir. How could she not feel that? She was a very light sleeper. It had to be a dream. It had to be.

A garbage truck passed outside and lifted a garbage container from the courtyard next to the Chinese takeout place across the street. The noise from the metal clashing against metal startled Tasha out of her sleep. She turned toward Robert and saw that he looked terrified. She turned on the light. “Robert, honey, what is wrong? It’s just the garbage truck. It happens every Friday morning.”

Robert sat up. “I was having a nightmare.”

“I’m sorry, honey,” replied Tasha. “Can I do anything for you?”

“No. Let’s just go back to sleep. But, please, don’t laugh. Let’s leave the light on.”

Tasha smiled. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” she asked.

“Please,” replied Robert, “just put your arms around me.”

“Okay, Teddy Bear,” replied Tasha.

Moments later, Tasha was asleep again. Robert lay awake until daylight slowly invaded the night. He thought that he might never be able to sleep again.