I’ll Wait For You

Chapter 4

Elinor didn’t like the dreams that sometimes invaded her consciousness. She made a habit of writing down the ones she could remember upon waking, before they disappeared into obscurity, never again to surface.

The last one, though, sent echoes of pain stabbing at her heart, wriggling in her guts, weakening the neural connections to her limbs.

She had been walking inside a dark graveyard, backlit by a soft orange, illuminating the mossy covered stones, the statues with broken slabs of marble on what would have been perfection. The ground squished under her feet, slick with what she first took to be mud, but then realized the grass to be soaked with blood. She saw a tiny, malformed hand squelch through the surface, and heard a phantom cry of different voices which sent a wrench of fear and sorrow into her body.

She was looking for the source of the voices, because they sounded so frightened and forlorn, that she wanted to scoop them up into her arms and comfort them, no matter the cost.

She saw her then husband kneeling in front of a gravestone, weeping uncontrollably over a pile of bones, rocking back and forth in apparent madness. The cries sounded as though they came from the bones, and as she approached, she realized they were not bones after all, but tiny children, and his weeping was drowning them, and they wailed thinly against the deluge of salt water.

“No! Don’t hurt them!” Elinor had barked the words, and pushed him aside to try and scoop up the still breathing children in her hands, only to have them melt and crumble into dust, which blew away in an errant wind.

She kneeled there for some time as well. Some of the dust got inhaled through her nose and mouth, and she began coughing, choking, until eventually her voice became so raspy, that she struggled to even utter one syllable.

Her husband pointed an accusing finger at her. “You killed them! You murderer! You disgust me! Who would want to have children with a murderer?”

The words induced panic in Elinor, made her grab at the hem of her husband’s pants, and she apologized, over and over, but he kicked her off, and, still sobbing, ran off into the distance, where she knew she would never see him again.

Instead she was left alone in the graveyard, in the field of blood, stone and dust, with nobody there to hear her crying except herself.

Waking up from that, Elinor’s hand shook as she wrote down the dream, the imagery her brain had conjugated making her sick to the stomach.

I can’t believe my mind is even capable of this. It’s… fu*ked the hell up. Dried grime and dirt had congealed on her cheeks from the crying that seeped from the dream into real life.

After that, she took a long time falling back asleep.

She didn’t bother troubling anyone about the dream when the day emerged in full. Everyone still dwelled on her success from Friday, had cheered themselves hoarse and insisted on buying many rounds of drinks until she ended up being escorted home, completely saturated, but happy.

Everyone, of course, had heard of Fusion Chord, and, like her, couldn’t comprehend the idea of someone from the company sitting at an average café, browsing for talent.

“I can’t believe he’s a Vasilev,” Karen had said, gobsmacked, directing more than her fair share of glances at where the music mogul resided. “I know there’s a lot of them, all involved in the industry. Jesus Christ. Fusion Chord. He singled you out. He sought you! Girl! This may be the break you’re waiting for!” A trace of jealously lingered in Karen’s voice, but she disguised it as best as she could to celebrate Elinor’s stroke of luck.

No one even bothered to question if she would accept the offer or not. Of course she would. What a ridiculous thought to contemplate that she might turn it down. Not when the rest would slaver at the chance for such a deal.

“You needed this,” Tina had said, giving her best friend a tremendous hug. “You fu*king needed it. I’m so happy for you.”

“He’s recruiting me as a lyricist, not a singer.”

At this statement, her friends obtained muddled expressions, before again starting the wave of congratulations – though Peter acted genuinely surprised she’d not been hired for her singing voice.

When she assured them that it didn’t bother her, they perked up again, having been worried that the wayside recruitment might have dampened spirits on a fantastic evening.

Naturally, the next day, Elinor informed her mother and father as well – who were a little more astute when it came to Elinor and her writing.

“That is amazing, honey,” Catrina said, voice full of pride. Elinor detected the wavering note that suggested her mother had given into tears of happiness. “That’s so brilliant. My baby girl being picked up by such a huge company like that, that’s a dream come true!”

“I’ve not signed the contract yet, and I have no idea how much work it will entail,” Elinor said, though the breach of reality and slight negativity didn’t deter Catrina’s happiness.

“If you don’t sign it, I will personally come to your house and spank you so hard that your eyeballs will fall out of their sockets. Then I will make you apologize to the nice man and ask for a second chance. Cos honey, you ain’t refusing something like that. No way.”

“Maybe we should go over on Sunday to make sure she goes!” Andrew yelled, clearly wallowing in his daughter’s triumph, and also, shouting over some wailing children. Elinor caught distinctive screeches of: No! No! That’s Mine! I’ll spank you til your eyes fall out!

“Dear Lord, I’m teaching them such terrible habits,” her mother said, not sounding sorry at all. “Andrew, kindly stop them from killing each other? Thanks, baby.”

Listening to her mother always allowed Elinor to project herself back to Catrina’s stern, sometimes blunt but loving way of treating everyone. She recalled one incident where she’d been caught playing with a sharp kitchen knife, and instead of being screamed at, hit and scolded like some frightened parents might react, seeing their beloved spawn dicing with death, Catrina had sat down with her daughter, talked her through the dangers of a knife, and even sliced her own skin to demonstrate to Elinor the perils of sharp things.

Elinor remember how bright red the blood was, and knew blood only came out when something hurt, and had cried and looked for something to patch up her mother with.

Whenever she held a knife afterwards, that memory stuck with her, making her treat the object with respect.