Nature's Church

I was awoken early the next morning by a strange feeling on my cheek, dancing across my lips and down my neck. Delirious, I at first thought it was Catherine's fingers, as she did have a habit of caressing my face as I slept in one of her more loving moods, but when the feeling crawled up my face once more, I opened my eyes to see a house spider comfortably resting on my nose.

Now, I don't like hurting bugs, I don't. But this black thing spooked me so bad that I nearly let out a yell. I slapped it off of my face and onto surfaces unknown, for I never saw it after that. After I calmed myself down enough, I went to the bathroom to check for any bites. I found none whatsoever, which was most certainly a good thing. Looking outside I saw that the sun was slowly starting to rise, and since our classes were at eight-thirty, I debated even going back to bed; didn't want to get too comfortable again. Might as well make some tea and get ready.

But then I thought about Catherine and that spider. The one on my face wasn't identical to the one we saw yesterday, and I honestly didn't feel comfortable with any arachnid (big or small) near her. It was the desire to protect Catherine, even from harmless little things, that made me go back into my room and curl up next to her. To hell with everything else.

The day passed on comfortably: we carpooled to school, met up with our girls, managed to eat lunch together before scattering to our respective destinations. The classes went smoothly, our phones managed to not glitch up royally (thank God), and we even ate out for dinner that night. I did see Catherine sometimes looking behind her and over my shoulder, but aside from that nothing went awry.

We returned on time, no later that ten, and completely exhausted we went to bed. As we lay there, not asleep yet not awake, Catherine gently nudged my shoulder.

"Hmm? You alright?" I said to her.

She nodded, "Yeah. I just wanted to make sure you knew I was still here."

It was a simple little sentence, but it meant so much to me. I kissed her forehead, and we slowly descended into blissful rest. That night I dreamed of a small, cozy cabin in the middle of a dense forest; the kind of home or vacation spot many would kill for. Inside were plenty of furnishings to go around, comfortable couches and beds, a full pantry and the sound of laughter from an invisible family. It was beautiful, soothing.

And then, in the blink of an eye, the cabin caught fire. I don't know where it started, but the flames crept up the walls and along the floors like a stalker in the night. Soon the entire house was a fireball, and I heard the laughter turn to muted screams. In seconds the cabin was ash upon the forest floor, and all was silent.

I woke with a start, my heart pounding like a frantic drum in my chest. I felt beside me to feel if Catherine was still with me, and to my relief she still was. In minutes I calmed down enough to finally fall into an uneasy rest. Morning could not have come sooner.

But after an eternity, it did. The sun rose and banished away all darkness, golden-yellow rays pouring into windows to wake the people and let them start the day, hopefully with a good night's sleep behind them. Such was the way with Catherine and I. Quietly we walked down the stairs, rubbing our eyes and yawning. Breakfast for both of us was jasmine green tea, toast with Nutella and ground cinnamon and sliced green apples.

Outside, Lunagirl was meowing loudly for her food and attention, yet there was also something mournful in her voice. Catherine said to me, "Let me go play with her while you get her breakfast."

She opened the back door, shuddered at the sudden coldness and knelt down to pet Lunagirl. I was calmly opening a can of her preferred foodstuff when Catherine let out a ragged, low scream. I flew to the door, shouting, "What's wrong?! What's wrong?!"

Catherine wordlessly pointed to my cat, a look of terror in her eyes. I held my little black companion in my arms and my jaw dropped in shock.

Lunagirl's back neck was almost covered in ticks. Pale, engorged things that greedily sucked at her lifeblood. Horrified, yet intrepid, I began to pluck each of them off. It was no easy task, as they had embedded themselves in her skin so deeply that it seemed they were now a part of her. All the time my beloved feline was sitting still so I could work. In the end I counted a total of eighteen ticks, every last one of them so big that they could barely move. Catherine smashed them all with the one of my father's heavy shoes.

At one-thirty I accompanied Catherine to her appointment with Dr. Frey, sitting in the waiting room and fiddling with my phone the entire time. The session took a little longer this time, not that I minded. If Catherine needed more time to get it off her chest, then it can take as long as she wants it to. I forgot to mention this back a while, but she was laid off from her job due to her missing shifts and erratic behavior. It didn't seem to hit her too hard, but it wasn't making things easier.

At almost three o' clock Dr. Frey invited me to join Catherine in his office. I walked in, sat down in a chair next to hers, and held Catherine's outstretched hand.

Dr. Frey cleared his throat and spoke, "Catherine has told me all about her little black out that happened. They are very scary, and since she does not illegal substances nor has any brain damage, it makes them even more puzzling. You two staying together through all of this shows how strong you are, and how much love you have for one another." he paused and I squeezed Catherine's hand. "I do want to put both of your worries to rest and tell you that your phones were most likely malfunctioning. It sometimes happens to Justine's phone, even. Don't over-analyze it it mean more than it does; it causes headaches." He chuckled at his own joke.

"Now, Elizabeth," he continued, folding his hands neatly on his desk. "Is there anything you want to get out there for discussion? Any fears, thoughts...nothing is off limits."

I breathed in deeply, then exhaled. I turned to Catherine and said, "I love you, and nothing can keep me from doing that. Not even this wicked thing that seems to like you a whole lot." She didn't laugh, but a smile formed on her lips. "And you're not suffering though this alone, okay?"

"I know."

"I mean, I had a really crazy dream last night even--"

The smile faded quickly, replaced with anxiety. "What?"

"Yeah...it was freaky. Surreal."

The doctor said, "Do you want to share it with us, Elizabeth?"

I decided, 'why not? It's just a dream' and told them. "It was just...creepy. I dreamed about a cottage in the woods that must have belonged to a family. Then it caught fire and burned to the ground, most likely killing everyone. I woke up scared silly."

The doctor nodded his head, a look of puzzlement on his face. "Hm. Odd. But dreams are often like that. Personally it may have just been a simple nightmare, but one would think that there is a deeper meaning. Catherine? What do you think?"

Catherine's eyes grew wide as saucers, her breathing becoming deeper and deeper. "I know that something serious needs to be done."

She got up out of her chair, dragging me along with her. Before leaving the room, she turned and nodded, "Thank you, doctor. I believe I know what I have to do now." Catherine's grip on my wrist grew stronger as she pulled me to the car. I gently pried her fingers off of my small wrist and nearly croaked, "Cathie! Wha-what is going on?!"

It was a question that has long since worn out its welcome. I wondered about her strange behavior and seemed to get an answer that this evil thing wanted her for some bizzare reason. I wanted it gone so that she would stop worrying and being on edge. I wanted it gone for both of our sakes.

She opened the passenger door and looked at me pleadingly, "I have to think about this. Let's go home."

So we did, the whole ride spent in pure silence. Catherine was looking out the window, seemingly mulling over what she and the doctor had talked about and my dream. I wanted to make small talk, but each time a sentence formed in my mind it died in my throat. Sometimes words were not nescessary.

When we arrived home she quietly opened her door, walked around to me and opened mine. "Thanks, love," I murmured. Together we walked to and through the unlocked front door, where Catherine still wore the expression of a person debating what in the name of God to do with their life. I said in the cheeriest voice I could muster, "You want a snack? I think we still have those apple slices left."

I recieved a "Mm-hm." in response. I gave her the the slices of fruit and she chewed them slowly, listlessly. I looked around me for any and all spiders or insects, and should one appear I would be the first to swat it out of the room. "You alright?" I whispered.

"Kind of. I'm just really upset that you dreamed about that. It's not good."

"Why?"

She swallowed heavily, "Because. It might want you, too."

My eyebrows rose, "Me?"

She nodded.

I didn't say anything; I was left completely speechless by this new turn of events. A little bit of fear started to creep inside of me. Were dreams the first sign of things to come? No. No. I won't let this thing have me. I can't let it consume me. Without thinking I said, "Yesterday I woke up with a spider on my face. I don't want to freak you out, but I don't want to keep anything from you. I wacked it off my face and I didn't see it after that." I half expected her to flip the table, but instead sheburied her face in my shoulder. Catherine didn't cry, only let out sad little sighs.

Almost foolishly, I said, "Nothing bad will happen to me, Catherine. We're going to get through this."

She looked up at me with a smile drained of all warmth and said, "I can only hope we will."