The Woman in the Windowsill
Thirteen

~~~

I open my eyes, my alarm clock has woken me up. I look around at my surroundings. I sigh in disappointment. I’m back in my apartment, with Jessica asleep next to me. I put my palms into my face in anguish.

It was all just a dream.

Jessica turns the alarm off for me, as I tuned out the sound. 6:30am.

“Good morning”, she tells me as she kisses me on the cheek.

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it”. My room is dim this morning, like any other. The only bit of light struggles to seep in through the gaps in my blinds.

Jessica gets up and I watch her silhouette put clothes on as she makes her way to my doorway.

“Coffee?”, she asks. Her voice is positive, but obviously groggy.

“Yes, yes please”, I tell her. I feel like I hadn’t gotten any sleep the night before. We went to bed early though, I’m dumbfounded.

Jessica makes her way to my kitchen and gets the pot of coffee started.

“Oh well”, I tell myself. I throw on a shirt and head into the kitchen. Jessica decides to dress herself appropriately this morning as she noticed her cousin asleep on the couch.

“How’d you sleep”, she asks me as she hands me a cup of coffee.

“Great”, I lie.

“Me too”, she rubs my shoulder as she takes a sip. “What’s that?”, she asks, referencing the rhinestone bracelet.

“A bracelet.” The look in her eyes seeks a more definitive answer. “My niece gave it to me. Tacky, I know, but it’s something she got me.” I struggle to keep my eyes open.

“That’s sweet”, she tells me. She kisses me on the cheek and goes to get ready for work in my restroom. I remove the bracelet and put it back into the hiding spot in my closet. Jessica probably wouldn’t react well to finding out it was Camila’s. It wouldn’t be long until she found out I don’t have a niece, or even a sibling, for that matter.

Jessica emerges out of my restroom in her scrubs. I walk her over to the front door. Sam scurries beneath our footsteps.

“Remember me killing you at chess last night?”, she teases. It feels like a long time since our date last night, like days even. It’s hard for me to fathom that it was only seven or eight hours ago. My dream last night was so vivid.

“Mhm”, I grunt.

“Someone’s still tired”.

I try my best to reciprocate her positive energy. “I guess I’m just getting soft, being out of work is all”.

“Go get some rest”, she tells me. She leans forward to press her lips against mine. I almost attempt to roll my face away, but I don’t. “Bye David”, she yells.

David grunts in response. He doesn’t look like he got a good night’s rest last night either.

Jessica turns to gaze at me one last time.

“Same time on Thursday?”, she asks sweetly.

“I’ll let you know”, I tell her.

She turns around and heads out of my apartment. I close the door behind her and take a seat in my recliner. Sam positions himself on top of David and gets comfortable. Before I know it the three of us are fast asleep in the living room.

I open my eyes and it’s 3pm. I can’t believe where the day had gone.

“Finally woke up”, David says. He’s sitting on the couch playing Call of Duty.

“Yeah. I slept for eight hours last night. Now I just tacked on another eight.”

“Fucking sloth”, David says jokingly.

Now I feel rested. For whatever reason I just couldn’t regenerate any energy from last night. No weird dreams today though. “How was your night?”

“Went fine.” David is deep in concentration attempting to kill another soldier in the game. “Mother fucker!”, he lashes out as his on screen character is blown apart by a landmine. He brings the mic up to his face. “You cocksucker! What little douche uses a claymore in domination.”

The voice of a preteen returns with inappropriate comments about David’s mother.

“Oh shit”, I react. He glares back at me. “You really going to roast a kid?”

“Say I’m not down”, he says, ready to unleash his flurry of insults.

“Let’s not make a kid kill himself tonight, David”, I say with a slight giggle.

“You’re lucky”, David says to the kid putting his mic down.

“I know you had a good night”, I tell him. I let out a post nap yawn as I slowly wake up. “Someone got laid?”

“How the hell do you know?”

“I saw that you took a shower. The only time you take a shower is when you’re trying to get it in. I’ve known you a while my friend.”

“That’s fucked up. But you’re right.” He tosses the PlayStation controller to the other side of the couch and begins to aggressively pet Sam. “How’d your night go with my darling little cousin?” he probes.

“We had fun.”

“Good to know. Let’s leave it at that.”

I contemplate telling David about my dream. Any other time I would, but he has officially evolved from best friend to relative of my romantic interest. I figure it may not be the wisest idea to bring it up just after a date with Jessica.

“Let’s get something to eat”, he tells me. He sees that I’m daydreaming.

“Um, well I’m not too hungry”, I tell him. “It’s kind of weird, I haven’t eaten since last night.”

“You should probably eat something dude”, he advises.

“Yeah I’m just not feeling it today”, I admit. “Bring me back something for later though?”

“Yeah you got it.” David sniffs his shirt and it passes his hygiene test as he heads out of the apartment.

My mind begins to wander. The dream seemed so real! Camila looked and felt so real. Everything she told me seemed so believable. Am I losing my mind?, I ask myself. Why didn’t I get any rest last night despite getting a full night’s rest? Why aren’t I hungry? Usually by now I’d have eaten at least two meals. Instead I still feel as if I’m full.

I begin to rub my hands through my hair out of stress. Then something on my palm catches my attention. There’s a burn mark on my hand. The same burn mark from when Camila and I had lunch.

“No”, I say out loud. “Nah”, I say. I put my wound under scrutiny. “No”, I repeat.

Quickly I run over to the end of my table where the mail has accumulated. I find the brochure from my company and find the address to the therapist’s office. I realize I might be overreacting, but the burn mark had begun to freak me out.

The receptionist named Caitlyn politely pencils me in for a meeting with Dr. Hall tomorrow morning. I contemplate phoning a psychiatrist instead, but I decide I’ll give therapy a shot first. After all, it’s on work’s account.

My phone begins to ring. I look at the caller ID and it’s Jessica. I silence it. I think about whether or not I should answer it. I just saw her this morning, I tell myself. We don’t need to talk again so soon. “Find yourself another form of evening amusement”, I say aloud.

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