Wildest Dreams

The tears won't stop as the EMT kneels in front of me as I sit on the couch. His hands are gentle as he takes a few butterfly strips and places them over the cut on my eyebrow that has been continuously bleeding for the last twenty minutes. When the fog lifted from being hit in the head, this man's face was the first I saw. His eyes have been sympathetic as he listens to me tell the story of what happened to the police.

There's been officers in uniform in and out of our home. Some inside taking photographs of my son's room, others outside with cameras looking at the window where Chris and his friend got in. I'd seen so many of them since everything happened that my house feels like an episode of some crime TV show.

“And you never reported any of the previous assaults to the police? Is that correct, Miss Haner?” The police officer in charge stands off to the side as the EMT fixes me up as best he can before leaving me alone having decided that my injuries are not life threatening.

“That's right.”

“Can you tell me why that is?” The questions he's been asking me seem so insignificant. The past, the pain I endured means nothing. My body is numb. I don't know how I have any tears left to cry. There's no sobs, no cries of anger. Just a steady stream of tears as I picture my son’s face. Is he scared, cold, hungry? Has Chris hurt him?

“I was afraid of him.” I look down at my hands clasped in my lap. My skin is stained with blood all the way up to my elbows.

The door to the garage opens with a loud bang as it hits the wall from the force. Matt storms into the living room, his eyes wild as he scans the room. When his eyes land on me his body stiffens as he takes in the sight of me.

“Mr. Sanders, I'm Sheriff Collins.” The officer reaches out to shake Matt’s hand but Matt brushes him off.

“Do you have officers looking for my son?” Matt’s voice is sharp and to the point as he crosses his arms across his chest.

“I've sent two to Mr. Cooper’s last known address.”

“My son was kidnapped and you sent two officers? Two? He's two years old! A baby!” I can tell his patience is wearing thin. His face is red and the muscle in his jaw ticks with irritation.

“Miss Haner informed us that Mr. Cooper never harmed her child. We don't believe he is in immediate physical danger at this point.” The Sheriff’s tone is calm and I know that's a mistake.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Matt deadpans with disbelief all over his face.

“Excuse me?” I can tell the Sheriff feels insulted.

“Look at her fucking face!” Matt walks over to me, kneeling down as he takes my chin in his hands. “He beat the shit out of her more than once and you don't think he would put hands on my son?”

“Mr. Sanders, I'm going to have to ask you to calm down.”

“This is unbelievable.” Matt runs his hands through his hair as he stands back up. The Sheriff’s radio makes a beeping sound before the muffled voice of another officer speaks.

”34-26 checking in. No sign of Mr. Cooper or the child at the last known address.”

“Copy that.” Sheriff Collins responds before sticking the compact notebook into his uniform pocket. “I'm going to keep a unit parked outside his address as well as one here. I'm going to head back to the station with your statement, Miss Haner. An Amber Alert will be issued. Do you have a recent photo of your son?”

“Yes, of course.” I stand from the couch and make my way slowly up the staircase. I can hear Matt’s hushed murmurs as he speaks to the officers. When I enter Cash’s bedroom my eyes fall to the floor where there's blood stains on the carpet. I try to shake off the sick feeling while taking a frame off the wall that holds a picture of Cash from just a few weeks ago. My fingers brush against the glass across his beautiful smiling face. A choked sob escapes my chest and I cover my mouth with my hand to silence it.

I'm startled by arms circling my waist and I almost drop the picture frame but Matt’s soft voice in my ear soothes me.

“I'm so sorry.” His voice is a whisper as he clutches me tight to his chest.

“He has my baby, Matt.” My voice is shaky as I lean into him, my eyes clenching shut.

“I was an idiot for thinking he was going to go away. I underestimated him and I failed you. I failed our kid, again.” I have nothing left inside me to console him. I pull away, not able to take his arms around me any longer.

“Where is Brian?” I ask as I get myself together enough to meet his gaze without losing it.

“He's with Zack. They're looking into Chris to see who he hangs around.”

“The man that attacked me at the hardware store was here. I don't know his name, though.”

“Zack will find out. We are going to find him, Mariah. Cash is coming home. And when we find that piece of shit he's going to pay for what he's done. It's over for him.” I'm silent for a moment as I take in our situation. I don't want to look at Matt and want to scream, but right now I can't help it. If he had just been here instead of agreeing to meet Chris, this wouldn't have happened. It's not fair, but it's how I feel. I know Matt never could have known, but I have to direct the pain in my chest at someone or I'll go insane.

“I have to get this photo to the Sheriff. The sooner people are looking for him the better.” I whisper as I push past Matt.

“Mariah, wait.” I pause with my hand on the doorframe and look at him over my shoulder. “I'm sorry I let this happen. I promised you nothing bad would happen to you, and the worst possible thing did.” I stare at his pained, hazel eyes for just a second. Part of me is so angry I could kill someone with my bare hands. Not at Matt, not at the officer wasting time questioning me in my living room, just raw anger at life. My emotions could not be more out of sorts.

“Let's just find our son.” I mumble before leaving him alone in Cash’s bedroom.



I lay awake in bed, my eyes burning from exhaustion but I'd rather die than give in. The blankets shift as Matt tries to get comfortable, but fails. It's late, at least four in the morning. I lift the comforter and slip from the bed, trying not to disturb Matt as I go. I've been so wrapped up in my own thoughts I never noticed that he too can't sleep and his eyes follow me in silence as he watches me leave the room.

My hand pauses on the doorknob to my son's room. My chest tightens as I turn it and step into the room that's only just been finished. The air still has a tinge of paint to it. All of Cash’s toys lay strewn about where he left them. My throats tightens. My legs carry me to his little toddler bed and I sit down while taking Cash’s favorite blanket in my hands. It's light blue and use to have a fuzzy texture but the years have worn it down. It's lost its fluff, but my son never stopped loving it the same. It was from a discount store after I started working at the club. I remember getting my first paycheck large enough that I still had money left over after paying all of our bills. I took my sweet boy shopping and bought him toys, clothes, anything I could with that paycheck.

The smell brings tears once more and I lay back in his bed and wrap myself in the worn material. He's snuggled this blanket every night since he was five months old. Pain rips across my chest, it's unbearable. The sobs won't be stopped, but at some point exhaustion takes me over and pulls me into the darkness