While She Was Dreaming

While She was Dreaming

Chapter 1

Her wrists and ankles were each tethered to a bed post with torn strips of old bedsheets so they wouldn’t leave marks. He wanted her beautiful skin to appear pristine when she wasn’t bound. She was his! No one else could have her!

As she looked around from her bed of imprisonment, daylight was streaming through the small castle window. Shutters had been left open for fresh air. The smell of wet grass after a summer rain clung to the breeze, coupled with the strong stench of livestock kept in the nearby barn. The sound of her only permitted companion, a dog, could be heard barking as it called for her.

Hoofbeats sounded. Faint at first, they grew stronger, pounding as his horse was pushed at a gallop to carry its master home. The stable boy and house servants could be heard scurrying around, nervously preparing for the Lord of the castle to enter.

Her heart was racing! At least alone and tied up, she wasn’t subjected to his cruelty. Breathing became erratic as terror raced through a responsive body. Ringing in her head started as blood pumped through frantic ears. Eyes darting madly around the small, stone room, she searched still for a way to break free. She thrashed as hard as she could, willing the strips of binding sheet to tear and set her free. Heavy boots were climbing the long, narrow stone steps to the confinement of the tower room.

The formidable wooden door creaked as Satan himself entered, smelling of sweat and horse. Head turned to the side to avoid his scrutiny, tears slipped from her eyes. Swinging his leg across the bed, he sat astride her, roughly forcing her to face him.

“I hope this has taught you a lesson so next time I leave, you won’t have to be bound!”

Fervently, she nodded her head in submission, willing to do anything to keep him from torturing her.

“Ma Cherie, it pains me to discipline you. I expect you to behave, oui?” He sweetly cooed, pulling the gag from her mouth.

Muscles tightening, she flinched as he bellowed for the house servant and chamber maid to tend to her so as to be presentable in his sight.

Attempting to keep her gaze averted, she could not help but see the hostility in the chamber maid’s eyes as they resentfully scanned her seductive body. The house servant looked away as he cut the strips of sheet from her, doing his best not to cut her delicate skin. He knew the master called him to perform this task so as to see what would happen were he ever again to talk to la maitresse de maison, or, the lady of the house. The old man had felt sorry for Madame and wished nothing more than to ease her stress. Tears stung his eyes to see what he had inadvertently caused as he mindlessly gave her a reassuring pat on the foot.

“Leave us!” the Master roared, face red and eyes bulging.

“Seigneur?!” the manservant cried out in alarm, fearful of the Master’s abrupt change in demeanor.

Drawing his rapier from its sheath, the Master plunged it into the aged servant. Skillfully withdrawing the weapon, he then held it against her throat, bloodying her gown and silencing her screams.

“Did you enjoy his touch?! he seethed with deranged notion.

“You are mad!” He is simply a sweet old man!” screaming hysterically, she caught the element of surprise, grabbing the hilt of the sword with newly freed hands. Struggling, it caught him on the cheek, causing blood to flow from the wound. His mind past the brink of insanity, he gained control of the weapon. Turning it on her, a war-like battle cry echoed through the castle as he swung.

Natalie woke herself with a stifled scream still hanging in her throat, drenched in sweat and gasping for air. Heart pounding so fiercely it felt as though it would explode, Natalie scanned her usually soft, inviting bed. She attempted to straighten the strewn sheets which looked more as if they had been torn from their resting place and used to fight off an imaginary force. A cool sensation from the air conditioning snapped Natalie back to reality as she tried to banish vivid images from her mind. Frigid air met with damp hair and pajamas, sending tingles up her spine, making her shiver. So real she could physically feel its effects, she clutched at her chest where the emotional trauma hung as if the scene had actually happened. Natalie didn’t see herself in the dream, but sensed she was the prisoner. Why was she dreaming of herself in a Medieval castle?

Nightmares hadn’t occurred since childhood and vague recollections of her terrifying visions brought Natalie back to when she was an ashamed little girl.

“People are coming to get me!” Natalie would cry to her mother upon awakening from a nightmare. At first, little Natalie was indulged. After it became apparent that she had the ability to see Spirits and to just “know” things, Natalie’s father demanded she be punished for being possessed by the devil. Kneeling at the foot of her bed every night, she begged forgiveness for talking to evil spirits. A private counseling session with the church pastor demeaned and shamed little Natalie for her exaggerated imagination. Unusual abilities certainly hadn’t been called “gifts” growing up, but curses. Having no one to guide her, abilities went undeveloped and unacknowledged. Natalie learned not to give the energies in her childhood dreams any attention. As she ignored them, they eventually faded.

In order to be perceived as an obedient daughter, Natalie conformed to her parent’s wishes. Forcibly silenced, she shared her innate perceptions of visitors in nightmares, spirits who randomly appeared, and knowledge that was conveyed with seemingly no source solely with a best friend and her younger brother. Fear of being ostracized as a freak and of word getting back to her parents within their small community kept Natalie stifled. A lone childhood friend, Lisa, helped Natalie feel as though she was special with a secret superpower no one could learn of.

As an educated adult pursuing her own degree in psychology, Natalie later understood that her mother didn’t intend to make her feel bad, but was afraid for her little girl and didn’t know what to do to help her child. As a dutiful wife, she dared not betray rules her husband enforced. Natalie’s father was a stern man who liked to preach about being a God-fearing servant while behaving as he pleased. He would be in control of how his family behaved. Churches in the small towns of Western North Carolina put the fear of the wrath of God into their parishioners, which is what Natalie’s parents reacted to. There was plenty of love to be had for those who “obeyed” and plenty of hatred for those who didn’t follow the strict doctrine that was doled out like propaganda. As children, Natalie and her younger brother, Andrew, despised Sunday school, dreaded annual vacation bible school and had a mutual, unspoken disbelief of organized religion. They both felt something within nature that gave them peace and lessons, although neither sibling could articulate their perceptions; they just knew. Questions went unspoken between them as to why their mother’s Native American heritage was completely discarded. With the help of a Spiritual Healer, Ben, Natalie was starting to understand herself, define her beliefs, and validate her “superpowers”. Volunteering on the Cherokee reservation during the clinical years of obtaining a degree had led her to meet Ben, who helped unleash the world that Natalie had repressed all her life.

Goose bumps and a jolt of energy through her limbs shook Natalie from her reverie. It was crazy how one memory could take her far back to so many recollections. Maybe a shower would free her thoughts. She had a hectic day to focus on.

Natalie slid her toned body from the wreckage of the bed and stumbled to the bathroom mirror. She closely examined a perfectly oval, tanned face, looking for signs of trauma from what felt more real than any dream. She couldn’t help but notice faint red markings around her wrists. Alarmed, she examined them, noting they didn’t hurt. An eerie sensation crept into her mind as she thought to look down at her ankles. Natalie shrieked at the sight of the same red marks at the base of her legs. “Oh my God! What the hell is going on?” Reliving the nightmare, flashes of images caused her stomach to heave. I was tied to a bed, an inner voice reminded her. Hands firmly planted on the counter, she steadied herself as a reeling head threatened her stability. How can I possibly have marks on my body from a nightmare? Wide, brilliant blue eyes met her own gaze in the mirror; eyes full of disbelief. Shadows beneath them told of restless nights and other recent nightmares. Natalie’s long, dark hair swung from side to side as she shook her head, not prepared to analyze what was happening. I can’t do this right now, she argued with herself, reaching into the shower for the spicket.

Hot water calmed tense muscles as she washed away the nightmare. Natalie breathed in deeply, going all the way down to her abdomen before slowly releasing her breath, further calming mind and body.

Wrapped in a towel and feeling more in control, she examined herself again in the mirror. The warm water had helped blood circulate and she was more satisfied with her appearance. Electric blue eyes still reflected the horror she couldn’t shake off from the nightmare and its lingering effects. Knowing that her dark hair and illuminated eyes always drew attention, she wished it wouldn’t be ridiculous to wear sunglasses inside at work. She chuckled at the thought and got ready.

A giant cup of coffee with scrambled eggs and avocado gave her thoughts enough time to wander back to the nightmares and why they were happening. Even though she consciously knew better as an adult and especially as a Clinical Psychologist, the little girl who was made to feel evil couldn’t shake the guilt. Natalie allowed herself to ponder if maybe the recent, returned nightmares were punishment for discounting her gifts. If I had just acknowledged them, would they be tormenting me now? Well that sounds like a Sunday morning service, she laughed at herself. Considering that this time there were physical marks left, what if there’s an entity tormenting me? She needed a private session with Ben. It would have to wait until she visited the Reservation on Saturday.

Reveling in the view from the window of her third story apartment, mountains beckoned to her. She loved how it felt to walk through the woods, especially if there was a creek or a river to follow. Something about the hypnotic sound of the water contrasted against the green of the trees captivated her senses. Taking in the beauty of dawn breaking, an eerie sensation washed over her. “You’re mine”, she heard. It wasn’t really a voice, but words that made themselves known in her mind. Jumping away from the window, Natalie ran fingers through her hair, laced them behind her head and squeezed her arms and elbows tightly, as if to keep her head from exploding. “Oh hell no”! she screamed out loud. “Night time is bad enough! I won’t lose my mind during the day too!”

Resolved to reconnect with her neglected abilities, Natalie chose an overstuffed chair in the small living room of her apartment to sit in. The nightmare had gotten her up early, so she had time before her first patient. Chilling words reverberated through her mind as determination to gain control of herself set in. She sunk into soft fabric, which enfolded around her, making Natalie feel as though she were in a cocoon. Breathing deeply once again, Natalie tried to clear her mind. First she forgot to keep breathing. For something that is vital to life, how can I possibly forget to breathe? She sarcastically asked herself. Maybe if I ask my ancestors to guide me, that will help. She tried to clear her mind again and silently asked for guidance. Nothing. Did I put the clothes in the dryer yesterday? Oh good grief! Why is meditating so hard?! Natalie jumped out of the chair and checked the washer; nope, still wet clothes in there. Well, it’s a good thing I meditated for two minutes! My guides successfully told me to put the clothes in the dryer, she joked to herself. Attempting to meditate had worked in an odd sort of way. Humor had replaced fear and that would have to do for now. Learning to discipline her mind was going to take time and practice even though she had “gifts”. Why can’t they just get better on their own? Why do I have to “develop” them? Aggravated, she poured a thermos of coffee to take to work. She was going to need the extra caffeine.

Chapter 2

Although today her eyes were very tired and her mind distracted, Natalie found satisfaction in her job as a Clinical Psychotherapist. Trauma and Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome were her specialty. Knowing how to counsel a patient through a trauma response was oddly needed in recovering from her own disturbing nightmares. Maybe I should branch out and include dream interpretation in my treatment, she jokingly mused to herself. Natalie couldn’t help but wonder if maybe she wasn’t doing a good enough job of shielding herself from her patient’s energy or emotional devastation . She was pretty good at leaving work behind, not ruminating over the counseling patients sought. Could that be why nightmares were happening? Today, however, she was ruminating over traumas; her own.

Natalie found herself glancing down at her wrists throughout the day, inspecting for red marks, holding her breath until assured they had faded. Instantly, she would find her mind reverting back to the vivid nightmare as her eyes glassed over, staring ahead, but seeing nothing. Patients could tell she was distracted, which filled her with guilt. The therapist needs therapy, she wanted to tell them. A full schedule of patients and charting notes made the day feel endless. A sense of relief washed over her as she finished up with the last patient. Getting outside is going to feel so good, she anticipated as she left the office.

Thoughts and emotions that had plagued her all day cleared as Natalie breathed in the sweet scent of mountain air while walking from her office at Mission Hospital to her nearby apartment. It was located within Biltmore Park Town Square, which was the newest and most popular destination to live and play in Asheville. She felt spoiled by having shops, restaurants, entertainment, the hospital, and workout options right there in the planned community. It felt safe and intimate, as though sheltered from the rapidly expanding city itself. Natalie loved having a fun city to explore, but she also needed plenty of places for outdoor adventures. The close proximity of the Blue Ridge Parkway provided plenty of options in addition to nearby trails. If cooking dinner was unappealing, she could pop into any restaurant down in the Town Square. An apartment seemed like the most practical option until knowing for sure this was her ideal neighborhood. She unlocked the door with her mind already anticipating a much needed evening run.

The heels were the first thing to come off, stripping as soon as the door closed behind her. She stretched her neck from side to side, letting her head then roll around, loosening tension. Breathing in and then letting out a forced breath of air, she willed anxiety from her body. Confining work clothes were placed responsibly in the hamper and shoes returned to their place in the closet. A tidy home gave her mind fewer things to stress about. Donning comfortable leggings, a t-shirt, and her favorite Nike’s, Natalie felt more like herself and was ready for a run.

Once outside in the cool, slightly humid evening air, Natalie lightly jogged down a favorite trail. Breathing in deeply, taking in the beauty of the wooded path, she finally felt the tension of an unnerving nightmare coupled with the highly charged emotions of patients flow out of her body. Exercise seemed to be the best kind of stress relief since meditating made her fidgety. She would always find her overactive mind wandering and got frustrated with having to sit still, as was evidenced that morning. Movement helped Natalie clear her mind and connect to herself, especially if it was outside. She picked up the jogging pace heading into a second mile. Dark hair swishing in a pony tail, trees embraced her as the sky turned light pink with the setting sun. Her soul felt at home and communed with the trees and mountains. Oddly, though, something didn’t feel right in her gut. I’ve got to figure this out and appropriately deal with it, she counseled herself as a boisterous growl came from her stomach. Thank goodness it was Monday and she had a standing restaurant order waiting to be picked up when she finished running!

Natalie settled into the corner of a plush, cream colored couch, sinking into the fluffy pillows after exchanging running shoes for cozy slippers. Sighing with exhaustion, she pulled her legs up on the couch beside her, tucking chilled feet under a throw. She delicately balanced her dinner plate on top of another pillow. A glass of luscious red blend had already been halfway consumed before being carefully placed on a side table. Natalie knew a cream couch and red wine were probably not the safest choices to combine, but like the magnet on her refrigerator read, “knowing better has never stopped me”.