Page 40 of Saving Micah

While driving toward my apartment, something tells me to check on Micah.

It’s something I have done before. But not enough that she notices or to be considered a full-blown stalker.

I get out of my car and make my way to Micah’s door. I just need to be close to the door. Something deep inside is telling me she needs me.

Once I get to the door, I put my hand on it. That’s when I hear her screaming. I’d know that scream anywhere.

“MICAH!!! Micah, open the door! Let me in! Wake up, Micaaaah!” I scream for her as I beat on the door. My heart is in my throat. What is happening in there?

I step back and try to think. She’s still screaming. Her door is a simple wood door with a simple exterior door lock. I’ve picked a few locks in my time. I’ve always kept a tool on my keychain that picks locks. It does other things also, but it helps with doors. Don’t judge.

I use the tool and get into Micah’s apartment pretty quickly. Her voice is breaking from the screaming. I follow it down the hall to a room in the back. I open the door and see her in this huge bed.

Wait, why does she have a king size bed?

Who does she have sleep with her in that bed?

Snap out of it Zant! Go to her. She has the sheets all twisted around her. I can tell that she is covered in sweat.

“NO! Don’t touch me. Help me, Zant!”

I stop short of her bed. She just said my name. She’s calling for me in her nightmare. I climb onto the bed and grab her to get her to quit swinging and kicking.

“Micah, wake up.” I shake her a little to pull her out of it.

“Micah, wake up. Come on, Micah. I’m right here.”

“Zant, help me. Make him stop! ZAAAANT!!” She screams my name.

My heart breaks.

“Micah, wake up. I’m right here. Come on. Wake up. Come back to me. Come on. Micah. Mi. Wake up.” The whole time I’m talking to her, I’m shaking her a little. I pull her close to me and I start rubbing her back. I have her arms between us so she can’t punch me or something.

My back-rubbing technique must be doing the trick. She starts to calm down.

“Micah, come on. Wake up. Open your eyes baby. Wake up.” My voice is a little calmer since she has quit screaming so loud. Now she’s crying and I think she’s still asleep. I have her head cradled to my chest.

“Micah? Micah? Come on. Wake up. Are you awake? I’m right here. It’s me. It’s Zant.”

“Zant?” She whispers.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

She immediately calms down. She unclenches her fist and grabs my shirt instead. She’s still crying a little. I just hold her.

“Micah. Micah. Micah.” I can’t help but say her name. Part of it is to let her know that I’m really here. The other part is to hear myself say it. I haven’t said it in a while. It feels strange and oddly so right rolling off of my tongue.

She sniffles and wipes her face on my shirt. It’s not the first time. “Why are you here? How did you get in here? What happened?” She asks me these questions, but makes no move to pull away.

“I had a feeling to come by here when I left the diner. It must have been God. When I got to the door, I heard you scream. I picked the lock and rushed in here.” I tell her the truth. There is no point in lying to her. I don’t lie to her anyway. Whatever she asks, she will get the truth from me. That is how we have always been.

“You picked my lock?” She asks me. Her tone isn’t a surprised one. I’m not even sure why she is asking that question.

“You think I wouldn’t? I heard you screaming. I was yelling for you outside. Obviously, you didn’t wake up. I did what I had to do to get to you.” I answer her. She really shouldn’t be surprised.

I go a little further with her, to test the waters. “Once I got inside your room, I heard you screaming my name.”

“Yeah, that happens sometimes.” Her voice is a whisper like she doesn’t want to talk about it.

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