Page 9 of Monsters of Desire and Nightmares of Passion

“Thank you for asking, but I don’t know if I can change the plans I already have.”

Dr. Martin pulls out a chair and sits down. His eyes are level with mine. I see his veins and the way his heartbeat pushes the blood through his body.

“You know me, Ivy. I wouldn’t dream of asking you to do anything you don’t want to. All I’d like is to spend some time with you outside of the hospital. I’m not a jerk, and I don’t look good in my hospital scrubs. Give me a chance to wear some jeans and a shirt.”

A smile creeps on my face. Why not? It might feel nice and normal.

“I’ll think about it.”

“I hope you like zombies and dark, black and white movies because that’s what we’ll see. All I want is a chance to... hang out.”

I smile. “Okay. I’ll give you an answer soon.”

“Thank you.” He smiles. It’s genuine. His face looks so much better when he smiles.

The entrance door opens and the morning shift nurses come in. Carla and Becky are nice, but so chipper I sometimes have the urge to stuff their mouths with a sock just for the pleasure of making them shut the fuck up.

My purse and jacket hang inside my small locker. I take them out, change my shoes, and walk out of the hospital and into the grey in grey morning. What else am I expecting?

* * *

I’m lucky enough to live within walking distance, so I don’t need a car, nor do I need to strain my already thin budget. The nursing school had been expensive, and I saved everything I could just to pay it off. Debt’s not something I want in my life. I have enough other problems already.

The cool early morning air surrounds me and pulls me into its embrace. My sneakers make a soft noise on the leaves that cover the sidewalk. It’s still too early for traffic. The street cleaning crews aren’t even up.

I have a ten-minute walk from the clinic, which I consider my morning exercise. Not that exercising is a big part of my life. I avoid it as much as possible. The cool air wraps me into its arms, reminding me of the way Draw wraps his arms around me in my dreams.

The night is the gate that allows them to enter my dreams. I’m tormented by monsters. Sometimes, even when I sleep during the day, they manage to creep into my dreams.

I smell the scent of freshly baked goods before turning the corner and spot the small bakery on the sidewalk to the left. Stopping there on my way home has become part of my morning ritual, something I do to spoil myself and end a night shift the right way. Warm, sweet pastry and a hot cup of delicious coffee take off the edge. My fridge is empty. I should go shopping for groceries soon.

My mind keeps going back to Lisa and how she said those words. “Ivy, they are real, and they’re never going to give up.” Just thinking of it makes the thin hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No, it can’t be. She must have read my name tag. That’s the only logical explanation for her knowing my name. Right? I mean, I’m a nurse and have noticed that patients, even if they are having an episode, are more perceptive than most people believe. She read my name tag and found out my name. If I repeat this often enough, maybe, just maybe, I’ll end up believing it.

But the way she said it.

The bell over the bakery door greets me with a clinking sound the moment I step in. Heat and the scent of fresh bread, coffee, and pastry hit me full-on. My mouth waters and my stomach grumbles.

When did I eat last?

“Good morning, Ivy. The usual?” asks a large woman standing behind the counter.

“Good morning. Yes, please.”

My usual is a chocolate croissant and a cup of Earl Grey with milk and sugar. I can’t sleep right away after my night shift, and this takes off the edge in the morning. I need a few hours for my mind to settle and my body to calm down.

The woman gives me my order, and I swipe my card through the reader before leaving the bakery. The same familiar faces wait in line, people that either live around here or work at the clinic. Some of them greet me in silence. We’re all alone, wrapped in our own world of silence.

I love this moment of the day. The sky is still grey and filled with possibilities.

Anything could happen.

Maybe today’s the day I would remember my name, my real name, and not this name I made up because I needed one. As I look toward the sky, I make peace with myself. I’ve given up on the hope of recalling my name, or the two years after the accident that landed me in the hospital.

No one came to look for me.

No one claimed me.

No one cared.

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