Time Kills All

A high shrill of terror forced itself into my ears, causing me to shoot straight up out of sleep. My daughter Becky was having another bad dream, the third one in a week. I allowed my bare feet to hit the soft rug next to my bed. I learned my lesson a long time ago about hardwood floors and the shock it’s bitterness would send up a person’s spine with no socks on. I looked back at my wife with envy, she looked like an angel sleeping soundly. My daughter screamed again.
“I’m coming baby. Daddy’s coming.” I said having a big stretch and a yawn, before pulling myself to my feet.
A chill went down my back causing me to jerk. I checked the thermostat on the wall in the hallway. It was sitting at what should have been a comfortable seventy degrees. Strange. I rubbed my eyes and looked again to make sure it was correct, which it was.
“Daddy, I’m scared.” Becky cried out.
Although she was sitting in her room, probably with the covers pulled up to her chin, freaking out, I stood outside her door for just a moment. I knew there wasn’t much time left before the midnight calming sessions would cease. She was ten years old now, and wanted me to protect her, but it wouldn’t be long before time would take that away from us and usher in the teenage years.
I took a deep breath and opened the door. “I’m here honey, I’m here.”
But she wasn’t there and right away I knew that I was the one having the bad dream. I looked down at the empty mattress and the covers still clumped at the end of the bed just how she had left it a week ago. I felt a tear roll down my face, my heart began to pound harder and harder until the lump in my throat spewed out as a long drawn out whimper.
It was then I woke up.
Before I could even think, I ran to my daughter’s room and slammed the door open and sure enough it was vacant. The bad dream was real. I stumbled back to my room a sobbing mess. I lunged myself onto the bed hoping that my wife would wake up to console me, to help me come to terms with the fact that our daughter died a week ago in a horrific car crash that left no survivors. I squeezed the lump of covers as tight as I could in hopes that it would rise my beloved, only to recollect yet another sad truth… My wife was driving the car.