The Brightest Dawn

A crashing sound startled Dawn awake. She could hear her blood rushing in her ears as her dark brown eyes darted around, taking in her surroundings. To her surprise, she realized she was in her favorite tall tee and safe in her bedroom. Sunlight attempted to shine through the closed blinds and there was a loud and vocal bird somewhere in the tree outside the window. Dawn put a hand to her chest in an effort to calm her pounding heart. She must've been more exhausted than she realized to have such a vivid dream last night. She tried to grasp at the quickly fading memories from her nightmare but failed, only recalling a desperate, lonely feeling and a chilling darkness.

Another sound came from outside the room and Dawn snapped her head to the closed bedroom door. She tossed the sheets back and ventured slowly out. The familiar clatter of pots and pans was coming from the kitchen and Dawn's pinched expression eased into a smile when she saw a shirtless Nico frying bacon at the stove.

He looked up at her and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, baby. I didn't mean to wake you. I was gonna serve you breakfast in bed."

Dawn went to stand behind and wrapped her arms around his torso, pressing her lips to his bare shoulder. "It's okay. What're you cookin' up?"

"We got bacon and those weird pancakes you like. And scrambled eggs with cheese." Nico turned two slices of sizzling bacon. "You can get back in bed and I'll bring it to you when it's done."

"Thanks babe." Dawn patted Nico's butt playfully before sauntering back to the bedroom. She hopped into bed and grabbed her phone from it's place on the nightstand, happy that it had been charging overnight. She scrolled through social media, liking pictures, sharing memes, and reading mundane posts from friends. As she'd begun to get bored with her phone, Nico entered the room with her food on a tray. Dawn excitedly sat up in the bed and accepted the tray- the food looked and smelled incredible.

"You're not gonna eat with me?" Dawn asked, lifting a strip of crispy bacon to her lips.

"Nah, I was munching while I cooked." Nico stood with his hands in the pockets of his basketball shorts.

"Oh, ok," she replied with a shrug. "Do you think you could make me some coffee? I'm dying for some caffeine."

Nico's eyebrow twitched. "Coffee?"

"Yes, please. And it's fine if we don't have any creamer. You can put a scoop of ice cream in it."

Dawn watched Nico's jaw clench then unclench. He rubbed the top of his head with one hand in frustration. "I wish you had told me you wanted coffee when you were in the kitchen. Then, I could've served everything all together."

Dawn put her fork down and looked at her boyfriend, unsure if he was joking or not. "Nico, seriously?"

He let out a yell as he began pacing back and forth beside the bed, his breaths getting shallower. "Now, it's ruined.," he muttered, giving the side of his face a smack.

"Nico!" Dawn shrieked, shoving her tray of food to the side. She stood and tried to get this tantrum under control, grabbing for his hands so he would, at least, stop hitting himself. "Nico, please! Calm down! It's just coffee. It's fine!"

Using the fifty pounds he had on her, Nico yanked away from her and stalked down the hallway. He continued to pant as he paced around the kitchen, berating and arguing with himself. He paused in front of the sink and, from the doorway, it looked to Dawn that he was finally calming down. But another yell erupted from his throat and in one swift movement, Nico pulled his arm back and swung forward to splinter a cabinet door with his fist.

"Oh my God!" Dawn screamed, rushing to his side. They gingerly pulled his bloodied hand from the cabinet and Dawn turned on the faucet to run cold water over it. There were bits of wood and glass from the cups inside the cabinet embedded in his dark brown skin and she had no clue how to help him. "We have to go to the hospital."

"No," Nico replied, suddenly as cool as a cucumber. "I'll be fine if you can get me your tweezers."

Dawn looked at Nico with wide, unbelieving eyes. He was the same six foot tall man with low cut hair, neat and trimmed beard, and dark brown eyes but in their four years together, Dawn had never seen her boyfriend freak out like that. And for what? A sudden chill started to creep up Dawn's spine and as she watched Nico deftly pick at his shredded hand, she couldn't put her finger on what was off. It was in keeping with his character for Nico to do something sweet like make her breakfast in bed, especially knowing what kind of day she'd had. Maybe he'd also had a shit day and the coffee was just the one asinine thing to set those stressed emotions bubbling to the surface. After all, they hadn't had the chance to rehash their work day since he'd been asleep when she got home.

"Babe?" Nico's expectant voice brought Dawn from her thoughts. "Tweezers?"

"Right." Dawn turned and went into the bathroom to find her hardly-used tweezers. She brought them back to him and curled her lips in distaste as Nico sat at the kitchen table and got to work picking out the tiny shreds. "You sure you don't want a doctor to do that?" she asked.

"Waste of money."

She sat across from him, trying to ignore the carnage before her. "Did something happen to you at work yesterday?"

"No, why do you ask?"

Dawn scoffed but played it off as a cough. "No reason, I guess..."

Nico looked up from his hand. "I didn't mean to ruin your breakfast. You should go eat if it's not all over the bed."

"Mm."

Some time later, Nico was back to normal, as if nothing had happened. Dawn could hear him whistling happily as he took clothes out from the dryer and replaced them with wet ones from the washer. Even if she wanted to address the outburst, she wasn't exactly sure what to say. The whole thing still had her on edge as she hopped into a pair of jeans and pulled on a clean pink baby tee. She grabbed her white sneakers and walked out into the living room. Nico was on the couch now, folding the freshly dried clothes with one hand wrapped in gauze and tape.

He noticed she was dressed. "Heading somewhere?"

Dawn sat on the other side of the couch to put on her shoes. "Yeah, I forgot that I told my mom I'd help her out with something today."

"Oh, ok. You'll be there for dinner?"

"I'm not sure yet but I'll text you." She leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on his lips, hoping her hesitance wasn't noticeable. He patted her butt as she stood to go and she forced out a chuckle.

Normally, the drive to her parents' house was a daunting one given that it took an hour, sometimes more when there was traffic. This time, however, Dawn welcomed the peaceful expanse of the winding roads. She wondered if she should bring up what happened to her mother to gain some perspective. Diana was always a voice of reason where her daughter was concerned but Dawn would hate to put Nico in an unflattering light.

By the time Dawn arrived at her parents' house, she decided to keep the morning's events to herself. She parked her car in the driveway and let herself into the two-story brick house through the garage. Dawn noticed her father's sleek black car was parked beside her mother's red coupe which was odd considering it was a work day.

"Mommy?" Dawn called loudly once she entered the living room.

Diana came running from the kitchen, a spitting image of what her daughter would look like in thirty years: shapely, hardly a wrinkle, and just a sprinkle of grey in her low-cut afro. She wrapped her lean brown arms around her daughter, who happened to be four or five inches taller than her. "My precious baby girl. I'm so happy you're here. I've got so much work for you to do. But, first, are you hungry?"

Dawn twisted her mouth to the side in thought. "Not yet, I don't think. I, uh, had a sort of big breakfast. Nico cooked."

"Nice boy," Diana said with a smile. She grabbed her daughter's hand. "Come, then."

Dawn followed to the kitchen table that was littered with papers. "I saw Daddy's car in the garage. He didn't go to work today?"

"Oh, no. He said he wasn't feeling well. I'm making him a soup."

Dawn smiled. Hiram and Diana Goulding had been married for more than thirty years and it amazed her that the flame still burned so brightly between them. When they thought no one was watching, you could spy them being so lovey and cute with each other. It gave Dawn such hope for her and Nico, that they could go the distance like her parents. They hadn't talked about marriage in so many words but Dawn knew that's the path they were headed and if it was even half as successful as her mom and dad, she'd be happy.

"Should I go check on him before we start?" Dawn asked.

"We'll leave him be so he can stew in his own germs."

Dawn laughed and they got to work. Diana had been a teacher since Dawn could remember and bringing her work home was just an every day occurrence. Helping her grade papers or organize exams was one of Dawn's favorite past times when she was younger. Now, it was more about helping her mom than reading aloud strange student names and figuring out how much smarter she was than most other students. They set to work organizing test papers by period and then alphabetically before grading them. With two answer sheets, they made quick work of the mess covering the kitchen table. Dawn finished first, second, and fifth periods before getting up to get a glass of water.

She sipped from her cup and noticed the soup on the stove was just about to bubble over. She lowered the flame beneath the pot and took the lid off. She grabbed the wooden spoon resting beside the stove and began to stir, the aromas wafting up and filling her nose with smell of peppers, garlic, carrots, and some kind of meat.

"Just put that lid back on the soup for me, honey," Diana said from the table.

"I will. I just want a taste first."

Diana jolted from her seat. "I don't think it's ready quite yet."

Dawn frowned and looked at the giant pot of soup. "It looks ready to me... What else are you gonna add to it?"

Diana approached the stove, essentially shoving Dawn to the side and covered the pot. "It's just not ready yet."

Dawn put her hands up in surrender. "Fine, fine.... I'll just go check on Daddy before we get back to work."

"We shouldn't disturb him while he's resting," her mother said with a smile. "It's the only way he'll get better."

"I won't wake him if he's sleeping. I'll just poke my head in. I don't want to get sick myself, since I've gotta go back to work in a few more days."

Dawn headed for the staircase. The master bedroom was at the end of the hall and she was careful to open the door slowly as it was prone to squeaking. The room looked the exact same as it had for the past ten years- dark wooden dresser against the right wall, a matching armoire on the opposite wall beside the bay window, one white door leading to the walk-in closet, another door leading to the ensuite bathroom, and a beautiful sunset painting hung above the king size bed in the middle of the room.

But the bed was empty.

"Daddy?" Dawn asked, venturing into the room to see that the bed was neatly made. She opened the door to the bathroom, nothing. She huffed and put her hand on her hip. Where was he?

Dawn went back downstairs and into the kitchen where her mother was ladling some soup into a bowl. "I thought you said Daddy was sick and resting."

Diana hummed as she carried her bowl to the table and sat down, ignoring her daughter. Dawn frowned and ran her fingers through her braids. "Well, if he's not upstairs, is he in the basement?" she asked. After a few more moments of quiet humming, Dawn noticed something in her mother's soup. In a quick motion, Dawn snatched the bowl from the table.

"Hey!" her mother yelled.

Dawn felt a stinging feeling in her throat as the contents of her stomach lurched and rolled, threatening to expel themselves. "Mom... wh-what... what the fuck is this?" she demanded, indicating the severed finger in her mother's soup.

"It's for flavor, now give it back. I'm hungry." Diana snatched the bowl back and half of it's contents sloshed onto the floor. "Look what you've done now! You know I can't stand messes Dawn..."

The younger woman stared, unblinking. The familiar feeling of being rooted to the floor was back, along with the blood rushing in her ears. Was this another weird dream? It had to be... but everything felt so real, especially that finger. Why was her mother not acknowledging what was going on?

"I had to get on your father this morning about making a mess," Diana muttered as gathered a handful of paper towels.

"Mom," Dawn said, barely above a whisper. "Where is Daddy?"

Her mother sighed and rolled her eyes. "Relax, honey. I left him on the porch."

It was Dawn's turn to sigh. "Why didn't you just say that earlier?" she asked as her eyebrows and shoulders relaxed. Her feet remembered how to work and they moved her towards the kitchen door that led out to the porch. Besides the grill, the two wrought iron chairs and matching bistro table, and a giant black garbage bag, there was no sign of Hiram. She looked over the rail to see if he'd gone down the stairs to the backyard. Still nothing.

Dawn turned to see her mother standing in the doorway. "I'm getting tired of this, Mother."

The older woman took a step forward and extended a folded linen napkin. "Here, smell this."

Dawn took it. "What is it?"

"It's chloroform, honey."

Dawn dropped the napkin like it was on fire and looked at her mom with wide eyes. "What the hell is going on? Where the hell is Dad?"

Diana frowned. "Your language, young lady, is just terrible. And I told you he was out here. He's right there."

The breath in Dawn's lungs dissipated when she realized her mom was pointing to the trash bag. Suddenly, her knees were weak and she had to catch herself on the porch rail. The pounding in her chest increased as a chill crept up her spine. Her dark brown eyes darted from the trash bag to her mother and back again. It couldn't be true. It was a sick, elaborate joke being played on her because she'd skipped Sunday dinner last week, right? Why else would this be happening?

"Go ahead and look inside," her mother said but Dawn could hardly hear it over the ringing in her ears. She'd been rooted to her spot again, unable to move any of her limbs. Diana grew impatient and went to open the bag herself. She rummaged through it for a second before producing a foot cut off at the ankle. The blood around the wound still glistened and Dawn recognized it as her father's right foot. She turned and projected her breakfast over the railing.

"Now, be a dear and put that napkin to your nose for a few minutes," Diana said as she returned the bloodied foot to the bag and tied it back up.

Dawn stared, weak and teary-eyed from the vomiting. Everything about this seemed like a terrifying, unreal nightmare but the hairs on the back of Dawn's neck were very real and they were pin straight. There was a compelling voice in the back of her head. No, it was more than compelling. It was downright overwhelming. it was telling her to run.

Run. Fast.