More Than One: A Novel by Monica Fowler

convinced me to stay. But as much as I cared about him, I had to admit, I cared about Jamie's well-being even more.
                  I kissed him. I wanted to kiss him again, but I knew it would make it harder for me to go. So I quickly turned to leave. He walked me to the door in silence and then gave me a hug before he opened the door.
                  “See you tomorrow babe,” I said walking to my car.
                  He stood in the doorway as I cranked up my car and backed out of his driveway. When I put the car in drive, I glance back at him and he waved. Then I headed back to the dorm.
                  When I got back to my room, I felt silly because Jamie was still asleep. She still looked peaceful and I realized I was worried for nothing. I sat down on my bed, crossed my legs and watched her as she slept.
                  I didn't imagine I would be freaking out this much. I wanted to be there for her, but I don't know how much more of this I can take. I don't want to let her go at this alone, but I had to draw the line somewhere or I was going to be in worse shape than she was.
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Seven
    Jamie
     
    Over the next couple of days, my attitude was unusually light. I followed Dr. Silverman’s instructions and for the most part, the nightmare’s had stopped. The feeling in the pit of my stomach was a little more stubborn though.
    Rach and I talked more about the dreams, seeing if there was anything there we could decipher. I also went to the library and researched dream books to better understand how it all worked.
    We even tried acting out some of the dreams from my journal. I didn’t think it accomplished much. I felt ridiculous, but Rach suggested we try everything at least once to see if it would help.
    At one point, I played the victim from my dreams and it filled me with sorrow trying to visualize how that person felt their last moments alive. I couldn’t imagine what was going through their mind. I figured they were probably thinking of all the things and people they would miss. Most of all, the people who would miss them.
    We wrote down everything, every little detail about the theories we came up with and just general stuff about how I was feeling. Rach was really helpful by being there for me. She allowed me to vent my feelings to her and tell her about my fears, then she helped me work through them.
    The nightmares stopped coming, but the darkness was still there, permeating my whole being. It made me feel numb, but I had gotten used to it, so I overlooked it.
    In one of the books I read on the theories of dreams, it stated that when you sleep, it helps rejuvenate the body and mind from the day’s turmoil. Dreaming was a way of unconsciously going through the day’s events and helping put them past you. I assumed it meant closure.
    I had no closure from my dreams, because they were recurring dreams; dreams that were linked to real murders. When I didn’t have the nightmares, I didn’t dream at all, so I couldn’t go over the events of my day. Since there was always nothingness and the fact that I was aware of it deprived me of my needed rejuvenation.
    I was pretty much drained of any kind of emotions or feelings. All this was written down in my journal, of course, and it helped me sift through my thoughts when I needed to.
    It was Thursday, the day before we were to leave for Kansas. Rach and I were already packed and ready for the trip. My mom sent me the itinerary the day before and we were scheduled to leave at nine in the morning.
    I was worried I wouldn’t be able to take off work since it was short notice, but one of the other managers, Dana, gladly took over my shifts. She said I looked like I needed to get away.
    Today was a slow day and my classes seemed to drag on forever. I really hadn’t paid any attention in any of them, other than taking random notes of things I actually heard. I knew once I got back