The Space Between Heartbeats

The first chime rings out, it is midnight once more.  It is funny how the fulfilled promise of a new day always comes at the darkest hour.  I climb the stairs, footsteps echoing.  I know these steps by memory, despite the dream that engulfs me, constantly pulling at my mind and making me doubt so many aspects of the world around me.  I feel my heart beating in my chest, a solo drummer beating through the night, unsure if the reason for the increased pace is due to fear, excitement, increased activity, or some combination.  It pounds on boldly, drumming a steady beat as it has done through years, the first internal mark of a new day, unplagued by the doubts my mind has that anything is promised.  The second chime rings as I climb the third stair.  Chimes three through seven pass quickly as they often do, as I finish my ascent more quickly, counting each aspect so as not to lose track.  Such a simple task for others crushes me now, as I know the consequence of any misstep at such a critical hour.  How many times have I repeated these exact motions, and how many times have I failed to line up the rhythms resonating in this cold house?  I had lost track of that ages ago, preferring to treat each climb as the first.  There were no sounds outside the house, as far as I was concerned there was nothing there at all.  On the eighth chime I lifted my hand from the banister and stepped over the rug I knew had bunched up at some point, and could easily trip me, cascading me into a loud and spectacular failure.  As the ninth chime rang I felt myself quickly yet silently making my way down the hall as stars and colored patterns filled my vision.  I never quite knew why this part was the way it was, but I knew I could not get trapped there, or a fate worse than failure would befall me.  It was so enticing, but I focused on my heartbeats- both that echoed in my chest during this seemingly brief yet endless trial were welcome reminders that I was alive, in a sense more fundamental than the dizzying lights could strip from my consciousness.  The tenth chime gripped me.  I was at the door already, was I too soon?  I trusted my instincts and opened it, it creaked like it had some sort of question for the room.  This was different, and at this juncture, different was good, but I could hear her tossing in the bed and she reacted with a sharp inhale.  I froze in my tracks, three heartbeats this time as I held my breath waiting for the penultimate chime, seeing her in the dark struggling with the terrors of the night yet still asleep.  The 11th chime rang and her eyes opened suddenly, two soft blue spotlights suddenly searching the room frantically.  She was not truly awake yet, but right on cue she screamed in terror.  One final beat rang out, like a starter's pistol.  With two spry steps I was beside her bed, and my arm touched hers as the twelfth chime rang as time slowed and she began to phase.  I would not let go of her, not again.  I felt myself phase with her, as the piano began playing downstairs.  "Shh, I've got you.  That song has ended.  Please let another begin."  She stopped screaming, stared me right in the eye, and with a glint of recognition, began to materialize fully once more, as the sound of the piano faded.  Her breathing slowed, as I finally let myself breath slow once more as well, my heart still racing in anticipation of what yet may happen.  Lightning struck and thunder boomed just outside the house, like a thirteenth chime shaking it to the core.  Something was broken, which was perfect in this recurring nightmare.  It had not ended this time, she had not gone, the impossible had been achieved, as she leaned in and held onto me tightly, still trembling slightly.  "I'm so sorry.  It's over now." Two reunited, through the precise work of three, thirteen chimes, twenty three steps, forty three heartbeats, fifty three keys played on the piano, seventy three feet covered, eighty three recovered eighty nine.  "What could possibly be missing now?"