Day 362 – The Way Home – Part 7 (Probably 8, I can’t count) Indeed it is 9!

Word count: 995

“Who are you?” Sam had grabbed hold of Debbie’s wrist and was dragging her out the room in full view of all the children.
“What are you doing?! Get off me!” she tried to writhe free.
“You know something – you know! You remember!”
Debbie lashed out and scratched three bloody lines across his cheek.
“You remember? What do you know!” he pulled her towards him and shook her severely.
“I don’t’ know! Please! I don’t know!”
“Maria! No – get back inside!”
Maria was staring up at her father, clearly unable to process what he had turned into.
“Please, Sam, please let me go… please,” Debbie was sobbing as Sam continued to hold on tightly.
The wrath in his eyes was unyielding. Debbie could not understand what she had done wrong. What had she remembered, his name? He had snapped; he must be mentally ill…
“You are coming with me,” Sam yanked her and pulled her along by the wrist – she was unable to resist.
“No!” Debbie twisted her arm free, “No! I am calling the police!”
Sam looked at her with evil intent, “You dare, you bitch. I demand to know. I demand to know what you know.”
Debbie pleaded with him, “I don’t know anything, please.”
By now the teachers in the adjacent classrooms were gathering. Maria had run into the arms of Mrs Magnus. Sam looked around at all the teachers and knew that there was nothing he could do to Debbie here. Instead, he leant in close to her and whispered in her ear.
“What happened yesterday?”
Debbie’s mind clicked instantly and she went to speak, but then she paused. Yesterday? Why did that mean more to her than she would normally think?”
“Yes, you’re getting it now, aren’t you?” he said maliciously.
Debbie’s mind was in meltdown. Yesterday she would have gone to work, she would have been here, then gone home. The dishes would have been done. The laundry put on. She would have gone to bed, read a book, watched some TV, and called her mum. It was so mundane it was quite forgettable – but to forget it entirely?
“The days, they all merge together, don’t they?”
Debbie’s breath was growing shorter and shorter. Yesterday was like the kind of dreams you only juts remember after waking up. It was so far passed the verges of imagination that it could easily have never existed at all. Yesterday was a fact in her mind, but where was the evidence to back it up?
“Do you remember now? Do you remember what you did yesterday?”
Debbie was shaking her head. The memory of a dream she had had long ago was flooding back to her with vibrant propulsion. The voices in her head told her he was wrong – that it could not be. She defied what he was trying to imply for it could not have been. But the images she was seeing inside her mind were not dreams or imagination: they were real. The tears streaming down her face yesterday stung her cheeks right now as in the memory she knelt down to tell a little girl something impossible to tell.
“It can’t be?”
“It is. And you know it. I’ve seen it in you before.”
Debbie did not want to believe him.
“You’re lying to me.”
“When was the last time you saw ten o’clock at night? When was the last time you actually went to bed? When was the last time you actually went to sleep?”
Debbie was unable to answer any of these questions.
“Why you? What did you do? What did you do to me? Why are you doing this? You are ruining everything!” Sam was growing angry once more.
“I haven’t done, no, I didn’t know!”
“But you did! You knew yesterday, the day before, you’ve known for weeks and I hadn’t a clue! You just played the game – over and over and over again! But I know you know!”
“What do I know? What do I know?” Debbie was raising her voice, aware that the teachers were enclosing around them like a gladiator ring.
“You know yesterday, the day before that, the week before that, the year before that – they’re all the fucking same! The fucking goddam same!” Sam grabbed her arm again and pulled her in so that his face was inches away from hers. “Find me tomorrow. Find me. Find me and stop me. I need help. Wake up and remember this. Make yourself remember. Promise me?”
Debbie was crying, unable to speak.
“Promise me?”
Debbie dissolved into frightened tears as she nodded her head. Sam threw arm away and barged his way through the circle of teachers, who were gasping like school children themselves. Only one of the teachers came forward to put an arm around Debbie. But the comfort was not working – she needed something sturdier to hold on to. Reality was not what it was any more. There was no tomorrow, only today. How long had that been going on for? How long had the future merely been a stagnant lie?
“Are you alright?” the other teachers asked.
“Why didn’t anyone call the police? Why? Why were you all gawping at us like a fucking show?” Debbie’s cruel personality stung them as if she had a forked tongue laced with poison.
Chattering and low murmuring descended amongst the ranks and they slowly dispersed. The teacher who still had her arm around her clutched her even more tightly.
“It’ll be alright,” she said, in a voice that resembled a Disney character about to erupt into song.
“Diane, do you remember yesterday?” Debbie asked her.
It did not take more than half a second for Diane to reply, “Why of course. It was my husband and I’s eighteenth anniversary together. We went to dinner.”
“I don’t remember yesterday, Diane… I don’t.”
“Shush, shush, that’s okay, that’s okay,” Diane patted her head soothingly.
“No, Diane. You don’t understand. I only remember today.”

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~ by S.G. Mark on October 2, 2012.

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