18 Things by Jamie Ayres Page A

nightstand.
    In the ambulance, I heard another distress call over the radio, and it was for Nate Barca.
    When I arrived at the hospital, every room I passed had the number eighteen on it. I was there, following the dead me on the gurney all the way to the autopsy room in the basement. They stuck me in a refrigerated area, and when the medical examiner left, I unzipped the plastic bag. As I examined my corpse, it rose to life again and fought me. The whole time, I kicked and punched myself, and I heard whispered prayers for my soul. The dead me knocked the other me unconscious and then Conner came in and told me to wake up, and I did.
    Cringing, I closed my journal and then hugged it to my chest, praying Dr. Judy could help me decipher what this dream meant.
    She gave the office a crisp sweep before returning her gaze to me. “Dreams are about taking the focus off ourselves and taking a break from our every day lives. Sometimes when we have those really weird dreams, it’s simply us taking all the events from our day, or past, throwing them together and then trying to make sense of everything.”
    Pulling in a deep, cleansing breath, I said, “Okay, I get that but Conner…”
    My voice drifted off as I spotted the Grand Haven Pier photograph behind Dr. Judy’s desk. A small whimper escaped my lips, remembering everything I’d been through. I craved a better explanation than the one she gave me. It almost felt like Conner tried to communicate from the grave through my dreams or something. I also knew how crazy that sounded.
    Dr. Judy rolled up her sleeves, then fidgeted, tapping one long fingernail on her chin. “I think Conner keeps popping up in some parts of your dream because of the bond you shared. You were very close over the past twelve years, so you shared many of the same experiences, including the most tragic event of your life. Logic tells me that he would be the one to help you make sense of everything even now, if only through your dream state.” She picked up a pen and twirled it between her fingers. “I don’t know how comfortable you are with spiritual stuff, but maybe you should meditate on these dreams and seek God’s opinion on them. The book of Romans in the Bible speaks of the spirit interceding for us because we don’t know to pray as we should. You said you heard whispered prayers for your soul in your dream. Maybe the Spirit is trying to relay some information to you through your sleep.”
    I stared at the polished metal crucifix hanging on her wall. “Wouldn’t it be easier if you just put me under hypnosis or something? Maybe I could try to meet Conner in my dream and try to figure all of this out.”
    Dr. Judy wiggled in her chair. “Hypnotherapy won’t help with understanding your dreams. I could use it on you to help deal with your guilt and grief, but I’ve always felt that was a bit like cheating.”
    I reached into my tote bag and put away my journal, the subject of dreams clearly closed.
    “What’s that other book you have in there?” Dr. Judy asked, peering over her desk.
    “A memory scrapbook Nicole brought me from the bookstore a few days after Conner died. She helped me fill it up. Do you want to see a picture of him?”
    She nodded. “Very much so.”
    I took a deep breath and opened up the scrapbook, tears falling from my eyes.
    Dr. Judy handed me a tissue. “He was really handsome, wasn’t he? Do you mind if I look at some more of the pictures, or is it too painful?”
    I stood and laid the scrapbook on the desk, then leaned over her shoulder. Flipping through the snapshots, I gave her detailed explanations for each. Birthday celebrations, holidays, sailing competitions, the annual Coast Guard festival. The memories all there, in case I ever forgot. The last one I came across was from two Octobers ago, the surprise sweet sixteen birthday party Conner and Nicole threw for me It was a small gathering. Both of our parents were there, Megan because she hadn’t left for