incendiarystory (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} incendiarystory) wrote,@ 2004-12-05 19:06:00 |
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Why Sleep When I'll Only Dream - CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Another Dam Breaks In Berlin
How had she managed to oversleep for so long? She guessed that sleep was just too easy with how relieved she had been to finally see Scott again. But, now it was 10:15 in the morning and she was supposed to meet him at Zoo Station - and this time he would be there. At least, she hoped he would be there. She figured he would wait around for a while but was it too much to ask for him to wait around for 45 minutes. She looked down at her watch, 45 minutes and counting.
Why couldn't people just call her cell phone when she wasn't there?
At least she could forgive Scott because she definitely hadn't told him she had the European protocol installed on her phone prior to this trip. He had probably been caught off guard when he found out she was in Europe at all.
She walked over to look at herself in the full length mirror that was set up by the cots of two of the English women. Sleep had done her face some good but her eyes were still red from all the crying she had been doing. Her hair was also like a rat's nest. She didn't know which choice to make. She could shower and be still later to meet Scott or she could run over to Zoo Station. Or she could call his cell phone.
Voice mail. So, Scott hadn't bothered to go through the necessary arrangements to get his phone to work in Europe. She knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't have it off at such an important time.
Emily walked back over to her cot and pulled a brush out of her bag. Pain shot through her scalp as she struggled to get out the tangles that 11 hours of uninterrupted sleep had caused. She never slept that long. Why this day of all days?
The red, puffy eyes would have to stay for now. It wasn't as if Scott had never seen her with those before. She put her brush back and almost ran out the door of the room. It was only when she was halfway to the stairs that she realized something else she should have seen looking in the mirror. She was wearing the same clothes as the day before and they too were a wrinkled mess.
"Get it together, girl," she said to herself as she went back inside the room. She shocked herself with how much she had just sounded like Sandra.
Changing quickly into a skirt, she ran down the street to Zoo Station through the mid-morning crowd of people. Her feet felt like they did not even touch the ground as she ran through the shopping center that separated her from the tracks. Arriving at track one, she straightened her skirt, prepared to see Scott waiting for her, even though it was already 10:40. She prepared her apology for being late quickly as she rounded the last corner, but a look at the track said she wasn't going to need it.
Scott wasn't anywhere to be found.
What she did see was the same film crew she had been captured for television by the day before. She even recognized some of the actors. She also recognized an intern that was standing against the wall hanging up signage that transformed the modern Zoo Station to what it might have looked like during the 1980s.
"Misha," she exclaimed.
The intern put down her hammer and asked, clearly annoyed, "do I know you?"
"We met yesterday, I'm Emily."
"That's nice," she said, "what do you want?"
"Did you see a man here, about six feet tall, brown hair, um balding sort of. American."
"Look," Misha said, "I'm really busy and I am not a messenger service. I can't possibly remember all the people I see." She turned away and went back to hammering a sign.
Emily was starting to get frustrated with both Misha and with the fact that Scott might not have shown up at all.
"It's really important," Emily said, "please. Have you seen anyone who looked like that?"
"Ah yes, now I remember you," Misha replied, turning back to Emily and rolling her eyes, "you're that American girl we filmed looking sad." She looked Emily over. "Nice to see you are looking..."
The pause seemed to last for a few seconds before Misha concluded, "better?"
Emily looked down at the entirety of her frame again. She noticed that Misha was staring at her legs. She looked down and realized that without the long jeans to protect them, the cuts and bruises on her lower legs were visible to the world. She straightened her skirt trying to lengthen it as much as possible, knowing it would do no good.
"Oh yes, I remember this man now too. He told me to leave you a message. Meet him somewhere at 2:00 p.m."
"Where? Where am I supposed to meet him," Emily asked, moving closer to Misha in the hopes that some sort of proximity would jog her memory. Misha had already turned around and was back at her hammering.
"Please tell me, it's really important!" Emily said grasping her on her turned away shoulders.
"Get your hands off of me," Misha nearly screamed. The look on her face had turned to one of fear, "or I'm going to call security. I don't know, alright!"
Emily's hands shot away from Misha and she backed away, still facing her slowly. She began to look at her hands and her hands, in turn, began to shake. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," Emily said as she began to turn around still looking at her hands, "I'm so sorry."
In a state like a zombie, Emily turned around and walked out of Zoo Station, not caring where she was going, staring at her hands the whole time. She began to wonder if she even could face Scott, she was afraid of what she might do to him. She was afraid of what she would do to herself.
She didn't know where to go. The thought crossed her mind to leave Berlin entirely and go somewhere else. But where could she go? Where could she cause the least harm? Had she been at home, she would at least have had the shelter of an apartment. But, no, she wouldn't have even had that. She couldn't go back to Sandra's apartment, she couldn't go back to Scott's apartment. Then she thought if she were at home she could check herself into a mental hospital. They would give her something to calm her down, to make her less of a menace.
Surprisingly, she found herself longing for some of Sandra's sleeping pills - she was sure she had found a way to get more in Paris. And, she found herself longing to take a lot of them. That thought in itself scared her into more of an attack.
Who could she turn to? She could turn to Scott but he wasn't there.
Why hadn't Scott waited for her? He would know what to do.
Where was he that was so much more important?
She quickly realized that the only one she could turn to was herself. And she couldn't even do that. She couldn't even trust herself. She sat down on a bench outside the hospital and lit a cigarette. She pulled her knees against her chest and wrapped her right arm around her left knee to put the smoke in her mouth. Her hands shook every time she tried to inhale.
An idea struck her. She would find a church. Maybe a priest could give her some advice. But she was in a strange city and didn't know where to go. She asked inside the hostel, but no one at the reception desk was from the general area. In almost a mental default setting she went to the computer lab.
Another idea struck her. She would e-mail her mother. Her mother had been through this with her more times than anyone. Before she could decide for certain to hit compose, she decided to see if there were any messages from Scott to see if there was a message from Scott explaining his whereabouts.
There was no message from him, but there was one from Sandra.
When her eyes quickly read it over, the tears flowed anew again. She shut down the computer barely having used three minutes of time and ran upstairs. She thought about throwing herself out the window of the hostel but instead, threw herself down hard on her bed and cried. If she could she would go back to sleep but there was too much energy inside. She pounded the cot with her fists.
The noise caused one of the English girls to stir. "Keep it down love," she said, half-asleep in Emily's direction.
Anger began to swell inside of Emily and she nearly screamed at the girl. The thought crossed her mind, "no you keep it down, I have every right to scream right now" but she didn't say it. She started to get scared of what she might do to the English woman. A mental picture emerged of her hands grasped around the woman's throat.
In fear that the thoughts might become reality, she rushed out of the room again and down the stairs. She needed to get away, somewhere quiet. She'd walk until she found somewhere in this city that was quiet. There had to be somewhere.
She tried to burst out of the door of the hostel right as Scott was coming in.
"Emily," he said, "I'm so glad to see you, I was worried about you."
"Get the fuck away from me," she screamed, "you're an asshole!"
"What did I do?" Scott asked.
"Where were you this morning?" Emily screamed at him.
Scott looked like he had just been hit with a tazer at Emily's statement. "I was at Zoo Station..."
"No you fucking weren't!"
"Emily," Scott said in a calm voice, "I swear that I was. They were filming a show there and they were going to kick me out. The only way to stay there was to take this part as an extra."
"I'm supposed to believe that. All you ever do is lie to me Scott! You told me you were in Prague to see a concert and you go to see some show at a heavy metal dive bar? That was more important that being here with me? After I called out to you in e-mail and told you something was really wrong."
She was amazed when Scott's voice remained calm. "Emily, I don't know what you're talking about. Honestly."
"Liar, fucking liar! You could have been here yesterday morning and you weren't. You could have been there this morning and you weren't. Where were you?"
"I told you the truth, I swear to God." Emily was made more irate by the tone he took. Why couldn't he just get angry at her at the accusations. They must all be true. He couldn't defend himself against the truth. And he was talking to her like she was a child. Like something was wrong with her intellect. She was still fine there.
"Don't swear to God you fucking asshole! You're nowhere near his good graces!"
Scott came closer and reached to hug Emily. She threw his two arms off with his own before he could even complete the motion.
"Get you filthy hands away from me, you fucking rapist."
Now Scott looked wounded and was starting to raise his own voice, "Emily, I don't know what you're talking about honestly. You're not making any sense."
Not making any sense? How could he accuse her of that. She knew the truth and he was denying it. Emily felt the urge to scream now. People from all over the hostel's lobby were looking at the scene. Emily could see them all in her peripheral vision. She didn't care. She was going to expose Scott to the world. "Sandra told me everything! Sandra told me everything!"
She began to cry and could feel her face swelling up again.
"Emily," Scott said, his own voice raising, "I don't know what Sandra told you, you never told me what she said. But whatever it is, it's not true. Can we go somewhere and talk?"
"There is nothing to say, Scott," Emily said, her voice starting to resume its normal volume and softness, "I have nothing to say to you."
She moved around him and went through the door. She looked back and saw him standing still like a block of ice. Then he began to walk behind her. "Emily," he called out. "Please come back."
For the first time that day, she began to feel stable again as she kept on walking. Scott had stopped and turned around to go back in the direction of the hostel. She saw him throw his hands down in a gesture of giving up and saw the back of his head droop.
"That's right asshole," Emily said to herself, "I hope you feel good and guilty for what you've done."
She paused briefly to straighten her skirt and walked on. Her head felt it was lighter and raising higher with every step.
Chapter Word Count: 2164
Daily Word Count: 2164
Total Word Count: 76375
How had she managed to oversleep for so long? She guessed that sleep was just too easy with how relieved she had been to finally see Scott again. But, now it was 10:15 in the morning and she was supposed to meet him at Zoo Station - and this time he would be there. At least, she hoped he would be there. She figured he would wait around for a while but was it too much to ask for him to wait around for 45 minutes. She looked down at her watch, 45 minutes and counting.
Why couldn't people just call her cell phone when she wasn't there?
At least she could forgive Scott because she definitely hadn't told him she had the European protocol installed on her phone prior to this trip. He had probably been caught off guard when he found out she was in Europe at all.
She walked over to look at herself in the full length mirror that was set up by the cots of two of the English women. Sleep had done her face some good but her eyes were still red from all the crying she had been doing. Her hair was also like a rat's nest. She didn't know which choice to make. She could shower and be still later to meet Scott or she could run over to Zoo Station. Or she could call his cell phone.
Voice mail. So, Scott hadn't bothered to go through the necessary arrangements to get his phone to work in Europe. She knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't have it off at such an important time.
Emily walked back over to her cot and pulled a brush out of her bag. Pain shot through her scalp as she struggled to get out the tangles that 11 hours of uninterrupted sleep had caused. She never slept that long. Why this day of all days?
The red, puffy eyes would have to stay for now. It wasn't as if Scott had never seen her with those before. She put her brush back and almost ran out the door of the room. It was only when she was halfway to the stairs that she realized something else she should have seen looking in the mirror. She was wearing the same clothes as the day before and they too were a wrinkled mess.
"Get it together, girl," she said to herself as she went back inside the room. She shocked herself with how much she had just sounded like Sandra.
Changing quickly into a skirt, she ran down the street to Zoo Station through the mid-morning crowd of people. Her feet felt like they did not even touch the ground as she ran through the shopping center that separated her from the tracks. Arriving at track one, she straightened her skirt, prepared to see Scott waiting for her, even though it was already 10:40. She prepared her apology for being late quickly as she rounded the last corner, but a look at the track said she wasn't going to need it.
Scott wasn't anywhere to be found.
What she did see was the same film crew she had been captured for television by the day before. She even recognized some of the actors. She also recognized an intern that was standing against the wall hanging up signage that transformed the modern Zoo Station to what it might have looked like during the 1980s.
"Misha," she exclaimed.
The intern put down her hammer and asked, clearly annoyed, "do I know you?"
"We met yesterday, I'm Emily."
"That's nice," she said, "what do you want?"
"Did you see a man here, about six feet tall, brown hair, um balding sort of. American."
"Look," Misha said, "I'm really busy and I am not a messenger service. I can't possibly remember all the people I see." She turned away and went back to hammering a sign.
Emily was starting to get frustrated with both Misha and with the fact that Scott might not have shown up at all.
"It's really important," Emily said, "please. Have you seen anyone who looked like that?"
"Ah yes, now I remember you," Misha replied, turning back to Emily and rolling her eyes, "you're that American girl we filmed looking sad." She looked Emily over. "Nice to see you are looking..."
The pause seemed to last for a few seconds before Misha concluded, "better?"
Emily looked down at the entirety of her frame again. She noticed that Misha was staring at her legs. She looked down and realized that without the long jeans to protect them, the cuts and bruises on her lower legs were visible to the world. She straightened her skirt trying to lengthen it as much as possible, knowing it would do no good.
"Oh yes, I remember this man now too. He told me to leave you a message. Meet him somewhere at 2:00 p.m."
"Where? Where am I supposed to meet him," Emily asked, moving closer to Misha in the hopes that some sort of proximity would jog her memory. Misha had already turned around and was back at her hammering.
"Please tell me, it's really important!" Emily said grasping her on her turned away shoulders.
"Get your hands off of me," Misha nearly screamed. The look on her face had turned to one of fear, "or I'm going to call security. I don't know, alright!"
Emily's hands shot away from Misha and she backed away, still facing her slowly. She began to look at her hands and her hands, in turn, began to shake. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," Emily said as she began to turn around still looking at her hands, "I'm so sorry."
In a state like a zombie, Emily turned around and walked out of Zoo Station, not caring where she was going, staring at her hands the whole time. She began to wonder if she even could face Scott, she was afraid of what she might do to him. She was afraid of what she would do to herself.
She didn't know where to go. The thought crossed her mind to leave Berlin entirely and go somewhere else. But where could she go? Where could she cause the least harm? Had she been at home, she would at least have had the shelter of an apartment. But, no, she wouldn't have even had that. She couldn't go back to Sandra's apartment, she couldn't go back to Scott's apartment. Then she thought if she were at home she could check herself into a mental hospital. They would give her something to calm her down, to make her less of a menace.
Surprisingly, she found herself longing for some of Sandra's sleeping pills - she was sure she had found a way to get more in Paris. And, she found herself longing to take a lot of them. That thought in itself scared her into more of an attack.
Who could she turn to? She could turn to Scott but he wasn't there.
Why hadn't Scott waited for her? He would know what to do.
Where was he that was so much more important?
She quickly realized that the only one she could turn to was herself. And she couldn't even do that. She couldn't even trust herself. She sat down on a bench outside the hospital and lit a cigarette. She pulled her knees against her chest and wrapped her right arm around her left knee to put the smoke in her mouth. Her hands shook every time she tried to inhale.
An idea struck her. She would find a church. Maybe a priest could give her some advice. But she was in a strange city and didn't know where to go. She asked inside the hostel, but no one at the reception desk was from the general area. In almost a mental default setting she went to the computer lab.
Another idea struck her. She would e-mail her mother. Her mother had been through this with her more times than anyone. Before she could decide for certain to hit compose, she decided to see if there were any messages from Scott to see if there was a message from Scott explaining his whereabouts.
There was no message from him, but there was one from Sandra.
When her eyes quickly read it over, the tears flowed anew again. She shut down the computer barely having used three minutes of time and ran upstairs. She thought about throwing herself out the window of the hostel but instead, threw herself down hard on her bed and cried. If she could she would go back to sleep but there was too much energy inside. She pounded the cot with her fists.
The noise caused one of the English girls to stir. "Keep it down love," she said, half-asleep in Emily's direction.
Anger began to swell inside of Emily and she nearly screamed at the girl. The thought crossed her mind, "no you keep it down, I have every right to scream right now" but she didn't say it. She started to get scared of what she might do to the English woman. A mental picture emerged of her hands grasped around the woman's throat.
In fear that the thoughts might become reality, she rushed out of the room again and down the stairs. She needed to get away, somewhere quiet. She'd walk until she found somewhere in this city that was quiet. There had to be somewhere.
She tried to burst out of the door of the hostel right as Scott was coming in.
"Emily," he said, "I'm so glad to see you, I was worried about you."
"Get the fuck away from me," she screamed, "you're an asshole!"
"What did I do?" Scott asked.
"Where were you this morning?" Emily screamed at him.
Scott looked like he had just been hit with a tazer at Emily's statement. "I was at Zoo Station..."
"No you fucking weren't!"
"Emily," Scott said in a calm voice, "I swear that I was. They were filming a show there and they were going to kick me out. The only way to stay there was to take this part as an extra."
"I'm supposed to believe that. All you ever do is lie to me Scott! You told me you were in Prague to see a concert and you go to see some show at a heavy metal dive bar? That was more important that being here with me? After I called out to you in e-mail and told you something was really wrong."
She was amazed when Scott's voice remained calm. "Emily, I don't know what you're talking about. Honestly."
"Liar, fucking liar! You could have been here yesterday morning and you weren't. You could have been there this morning and you weren't. Where were you?"
"I told you the truth, I swear to God." Emily was made more irate by the tone he took. Why couldn't he just get angry at her at the accusations. They must all be true. He couldn't defend himself against the truth. And he was talking to her like she was a child. Like something was wrong with her intellect. She was still fine there.
"Don't swear to God you fucking asshole! You're nowhere near his good graces!"
Scott came closer and reached to hug Emily. She threw his two arms off with his own before he could even complete the motion.
"Get you filthy hands away from me, you fucking rapist."
Now Scott looked wounded and was starting to raise his own voice, "Emily, I don't know what you're talking about honestly. You're not making any sense."
Not making any sense? How could he accuse her of that. She knew the truth and he was denying it. Emily felt the urge to scream now. People from all over the hostel's lobby were looking at the scene. Emily could see them all in her peripheral vision. She didn't care. She was going to expose Scott to the world. "Sandra told me everything! Sandra told me everything!"
She began to cry and could feel her face swelling up again.
"Emily," Scott said, his own voice raising, "I don't know what Sandra told you, you never told me what she said. But whatever it is, it's not true. Can we go somewhere and talk?"
"There is nothing to say, Scott," Emily said, her voice starting to resume its normal volume and softness, "I have nothing to say to you."
She moved around him and went through the door. She looked back and saw him standing still like a block of ice. Then he began to walk behind her. "Emily," he called out. "Please come back."
For the first time that day, she began to feel stable again as she kept on walking. Scott had stopped and turned around to go back in the direction of the hostel. She saw him throw his hands down in a gesture of giving up and saw the back of his head droop.
"That's right asshole," Emily said to herself, "I hope you feel good and guilty for what you've done."
She paused briefly to straighten her skirt and walked on. Her head felt it was lighter and raising higher with every step.
Chapter Word Count: 2164
Daily Word Count: 2164
Total Word Count: 76375
