Free Flashback by Amanda Carpenter Page B

her mother busy in the kitchen, making supper. She closed the door quietly on the evening swarm of bugs, watching as her mother quickly turned and came forward immediately. She could feel the older woman’s concern and smiled reassuringly. “I just needed some breathing space, Mom. What are we having for supper?”
    Denise searched her daughter’s pale, tired face. “You’re sure you are all right? Did David manage to find you after all?”
    “Yes, he did,” Dana replied, a slight frown creasing her brow. “Which was surprising to me, but then random occurrences do happen.” A lightning quick, half smiling glance at her mother. “I was trying to remain private, you see, and hadn’t realised that I could be found as easily as that.” She went over to the refrigerator and took out the milk, pouring herself a full glass and draining it thirstily.
    Denise went back to the stove and Dana peered over her shoulder at the spaghetti sauce she was making. Dana could sense that there were still questions that her mother wanted to ask her, but all she said was, “Is everything all right, Dana? You’re okay?”
    She took a great big breath and then heaved it in a sigh, feeling the ever present weight of that dangerous tension and the fine tremor in her hands. “I don’t know.” She didn’t look up as her mother glanced at her sharply. “I wish I could say yes, but there’s something happening that I don’t understand and can’t control.” She shrugged again and said helplessly, “I don’t know.”
    Denise stirred the sauce and put down the large spoon very carefully, as if the precise position of the spoon on the stovetop was hugely important. “It’s something to do with David, isn’t it?”
    Dana jerked and she was glad that her mother wasn’t looking at her to see the tell-tale reaction. She’d nearly spilled her milk. She could have told the truth. She could have said yes. But all she said was, again, a rather miserable, “I don’t know.”
    Denise said softly, “I’m worried about you.” And Dana privately agreed. She was worried about herself, too. She made a move to sit down at the table and then stopped and turned around to look at her mother.
    “Do you know who I’m worried about?” she asked. “I think I’m worried about David.” She wondered why her mother felt and looked so surprised.
    “Are you really? I wouldn’t be,” Denise said, smiling slightly. “That’s a man who won’t lose control, if I’m any judge of character. He has a good hold on himself.”
    That’s what I’m worried about, she thought, and wondered why the thought had come out of the blue like it had. It was true, but she hadn’t really seen it as a danger before. She rather saw it as something to be envied, a trait she wished she had, that ability to lock oneself away, to click in a remote part of oneself away from all of the outside influences and inputs, to be able to divorce oneself from one’s most dangerous and overwhelming emotions. It seemed a characteristic that could be potentially harmful, if one became locked away too tightly and got trapped. All of those repressed emotions would seethe and boil away under the surface until something blew apart. There had to be an outlet as well as a refuge in oneself. She wished she had that kind of control, though. She didn’t have a problem with her own emotional output so much as she did her input. She was all on the surface, too close to the open air, her vulnerable self exposed.
    That night Dana had another dream. It was not a screamingly horrifying nightmare. It was just quietly frightening. She dreamed that there was something after her in the dark, something silently stalking. She could never rest or sit down, though she was so very tired. She knew that if she could keep awake and ahead of that something, she would be all right. She had good reflexes and was quick on her feet. But the problem was that she was so very tired. She knew that if she went to