A Crazy Dream
A scared child walks into a white kitchen with a black and white tile floor. All wooden brown faded oak cabinets and a kitchen table with four wooden chairs. He's rubbing his eyes from the bright light shining through the kitchen window. There is a white lace curtain blowing in a slight breeze blowing through the open side. The smell of the morning breeze filled the room.
"Mommy…." The small voice calls out into the empty room. There is no answer back. So, the small child wanders into another part of the house. What looks like, a small utility room off the kitchen.
"Mommy…" He calls out again and there is no answer. The back door is closed and the door to the garage area is closed. The door to the basement is closed. He wanders into the main living room area. There are alcohol bottles littered on the coffee table and the TV is on projecting a white glow on the dark room.
"Mommy….." He wanders into the formal dining area and there are more alcohol bottles and a few small pill bottles littered on the table. The large chairs have been pushed around and are askew from the table. Finally, the child comes to the master bedroom. The door is open and the room is a disaster. There are dirty clothes thrown all over the floor. The dresser drawers are hanging open and the closet door is open with a trail of clothes all over the floor.
"Mommy…I'm hungry. Can I have lunch?" He climbs up onto the king sized bed where his mother is passed out in the middle of it. Her night clothes are all disheveled and she looks a deathly pale color. She is face down against her pillow. The little boy is 4 at the most and is trying to wake the middle aged woman from her drunken sleep. There are more pill bottles on her side table and more alcohol bottles. The room smells of stale cigarettes and alcohol. The bedding is dirty and the room is in desperate need of cleaning. This is not a place where a child should be raised.
"Mommy, it is day time. It's time to wake up."
The brunette woman is not responding to anything the child is doing. He nudges her lifeless body one more time and she rolls over to face him. She is dead from a drug overdose. The child realizes that mommy is not waking up and runs to the neighbor.
The little boy is banging on the neighbors door. He's crying and wondering where his father is.
"Miss Heather. Miss Heather. Mommy's not waking up. Mommy's not waking up."
Miss Heather opens the door to find the little boy crying on her doorstep. She calls 911 and follows him into his house to check on his mother. She gasps at the sight of the condition of the house. This isn't the first time Miss Heather has come over and found the house destroyed. She made a bet that there probably wasn't any food in the house either
"Honey, when is the last time you ate?"
The little boy is crying inconsolably as the sound of sirens fills the air.
"Miss Heather, what's wrong with Mommy? Why won't she wake up? Why is she that color?"
Miss Heather is trying to contain the level of alarm in her voice.
"Dylan honey, who was home with mommy last night?"
Dylan: "Jack was here with mommy. I never came downstairs. Jack hates kids. He yells at me."
Miss Heather: "Who is Jack, Dylan?"
"That's the man that brings mommy's medicine to her. He says I can't be around because it makes the buzz go away."
Miss Heather is trying to stay strong for Dylan. Suddenly, paramedics and police fill the room. The paramedics are rushing Dylan's mom out of the room and the cops are asking Miss Heather questions about his mother's condition. A strange lady takes Dylan aside and explains to him she will be finding him a new home because mommy and daddy were no longer with him.
20 years later, an adult Dylan wakes up in a cold sweat. His heart is pounding in his ears and his pulse is racing. His mother was murdered by her drug dealing boyfriend when he was 4 years old. He'd gone into foster care and bounced from home to home until he was adopted at 12 by a family in New York. He'd grown up and went to school there with Heather Whitman and her husband David Whitman. Dylan is currently employed at Whitman and Grey. Jack is the reason Dylan decided to become a lawyer. He wanted to catch Jack and make him pay for what he did to his mother and the way he ruined his childhood.
In a dorm room at NYU, two young women in their 20s are registering for classes and comparing schedules. It's just another day in the life of a college woman. Amy is a fire red head woman of about 5 7 with green eyes and a passion for wrestling. She's a bit of a tomboy at heart, but beautiful to look at. Amy and her good friend Sam are going through the college course book trying to plan their schedule for that semester. Sam is a brunette woman of about 5 7 with crystal blue eyes and a passion for writing.
"God, there are so many freaken classes to choose from. I have a headache."
She falls back in a dramatic fashion on the floor of the room faking a faint. Her book sprawled on her stomach and her tongue hanging out of her mouth like someone killed her. Sam rolls her eyes and sighs exasperated at her over dramatic gesture.
"Amy, we have to finish our registration before all the good classes are filled."
Amy makes an exasperated sigh and sits back up. She looked at the book like it was something foul.
"Dude, I am on school overload. I just want to scream."
She sits Indian style and randomly checks off some general education classes.
"There. All finished."
She smiles proudly and presents her finished schedule to Sam who smiles at Amy and looks at her like she's flipped.
"What? Do I have something on my face?"
She grabs her purse and looks in her compact mirror and finds nothing on her face.
"No, nothing on your face, Ames. You do realize, once these are picked they are final, right? No going back later and saying "Oopse I picked the wrong thing."
Amy: "Yes, Sam. I realize these are final choices. I'm not a complete idiot. No, I actually guessed my way into college by drawing designs on the bubbles."
She rolls her eyes at Sam and shakes her head. Sam holds up her hand like she's giving a testimony.
"Let the record show. I did not say that."
She reads through her choices and stops at her extracurricular choices.
"Amy, I can see you doing Yoga. That's something even I am taking, but Women's wrestling? Do you realize these women have been doing this since high school and most of them have already been accepted based on skills?"
Amy: "It's beginning wrestling. There are no skills needed. You learn the skills and besides that, I already know some basic skills here and there. "A" for effort though."
Sam sticks her tongue out at Amy and gives her a fake laugh.
"What the hell possessed you to choose beginning wrestling? These women have already established credit. You're going in as the newbie for them to pick on."
Amy: "I'm not joining the WWE Diva's Division. I'm just gaining some skills."
She rolls her eyes at Sam like she's totally not even making any sense to her, but its logical thinking. She probably will get picked on a little. Not everyone starts at the top of the pile making big money. Someone has to start as low person on the totem pole. That's how the best of the best make it to the top.
"Do you even know anything about wrestling?"
Suddenly, Amy leaps on Sam demonstrating her amateur wrestling skills. Sam knows a few moves of her own and flips Amy on her back in an attempt at a pin fall.
Amy: "Dude, when did you get skills?"
Sam smiles and starts laughing.
"Grew up in a house with 3 brothers, remember? Plus, I watch WWE and I know some of the moves."
She doesn't let up on the pin fall move. A sudden clearing of a male voice prompts her to look up.
"Hey Phil. How's it going?"
Phil, a young man in his 20's with brown hair and hazel eyes looks down at the odd sight of the two females sprawled out on top of each other on the floor. Amy and Sam are two of his best girlfriends since high school. He's trying to figure out why they are wrestling around in the first place.
"Why do you have Amy pinned to the floor?"
She gets off Amy and stands up adjusting herself like it's a normal every day occurrence between them.
"I just showed her that I am the best wrestler. I beat her. She tried to attack me."
Phil raises an eye brow at Amy who gets up and does the same thing.
"I signed up for Women's Beginning Wrestling."
Phil smiles a huge encouraging smile.
"That's great, Ames. I'm going into Male Beginning Wrestling. You'll be the best female wrestler in the world."
Sam bursts out laughing and picks up her stuff from the floor.
"Not if we don't get this paper work turned in."
Amy gathers her stuff as well. Phil follows them down to the administration's office. He slings his arm around Amy's shoulders.
"So, future Diva, are you serious about going into Wrestling?"
Amy laughs him off. She's not even sure why she decided that was the awesome choice for her P.E. She'd done some wrestling in high school, but most of those girls were little scrawny wafer like girls.
"I don't even know if I am any good at this yet. If I don't get killed by some two-ton Tessie with arms and legs of steel who can lift 500 lbs., I might think about it. Why?"
Phil's hazel eyes light up at the idea of Amy and him touring the Independent Wrestling circuit together. He'd always dreamed of one day becoming a WWE Superstar. He had his whole little outfit picked out and his gimmick down packed. He wasn't going to conform and be like any of the other guys in the WWE. He'd stand alone. Amy would be his diva and Sam would be their lawyer or manager depending on what she felt.
"I am serious about going into wrestling. I'm thinking about doing it professionally."
They stand in the line and wait their turn to speak to a counselor and turn in their class schedules. Sam is looking at a near-by cork board that is advertising different events and jobs around campus. Her eyes land on an inviting internship
"Flexible schedule, will work around school. Intern needed full time. Inquire within at Whitman and Grey Law Offices. Contact Dylan Whitman. E-Mail: Dylan_ .com."
She pulls the little tab off the flyer and puts it into her wallet. Amy notices her putting the paper slip away.
"What have you got there?"
Sam: "While you and Phil are over here trying to secure your places in the WWE, I am looking at the reality of things. This is an internship opportunity that will get me hired in a job that will make me money to pay off these student loans."
Amy: "Wrestling pays good money too. I never said I was giving up on being a lawyer. This is just fun. Phil is the one who seems to think I could make a career out of it. He hasn't even seen me in action."
Phil: "I know you can do it. I have faith in you. That's what friends are for."
Sam: "Well, I'm up next. Wish me luck."
She goes into the counsel's office and they go over her schedule. It appears that all her classes are set in stone. Amy and Sam are ready to begin their college semester with Phil.
Amy comes bouncing into the dorm room after another grueling afternoon of training and busting her ass in her new wrestling classes.
"Sweet merciful God, what was I thinking?"
She throws her gym bag on the floor next to the couch and flops onto the cushions with an ice cold water bottle against her forehead.
Sam is in the next room putting her clothes in the closet and getting ready for a meeting.
"Dude, I totally got that interview I applied for."
Amy: "Are you serious? You landed the internship at Whitman and Grey?"
Sam: "I said I landed the interview. I didn't land the internship yet. That's up to Whitman or Grey whichever one is going to do the interview right now."
Amy: "That would be Dylan Whitman. That's what the little "inquire within" tab said. I remember that much."
She gets up and goes over to her computer and instantly does a Google search on Whitman and Grey. A list of all the cases they won came up and a bunch of information about the law firm.
Amy: "This is not exactly what I wanted when I did that search. I could've called a reference for this. I'm not looking for a damn lawyer."
Sam comes into the room in a grey pencil skirt and button down white lacey dress top and her lucky black heels.
Sam: "And why would you be researching a lawyer? Whose neck did you hurt wrestling?"
Amy: "Why do you automatically assume that I hurt someone? I'm trying to find out more information about Dylan for you."
Sam: "Why are you trying to find out more information about Dylan for me? I already know some background on him. He's 37 years old. He's a multi-million dollar lawyer who puts scum bags in jail. He's a partner with William Grey who is 57 and also a criminal lawyer. They take on mostly felons and he's got a few rapists off the streets. Dylan is on a mission to make the world a safer place for us one scum bag at a time. I'm going to work for him not date him. Why do I care about his personal life?"
Amy looks up from the computer to look over Sam's outfit and smile.
Amy: "Looking good, there girl. You're going to knock him dead."
Sam: "I hope so. I really could use this internship. It'll get my foot in the door."
Sam: "Good luck."
Amy: "Thank you."
She grabs her purse and her car keys and is out the dorm room door. Amy is on a steady mission trying to find out more details about Dylan Whitman. She comes across an article.
"Janelle Whitman found dead in her home"
She clicks on the link and takes her to a news story from a Rhode Island newspaper.
"Janelle Whitman was found at her Rhode Island home this morning dead of a drug over does at the young age of 52. She leaves behind a 4 year old son. Dylan Whitman. She will be missed."
Amy: "I'm wondering if that's not his mother. The math adds up."
She blows it off for now and goes in to take a shower. Meanwhile, Sam has arrived at the Law Offices. She gets out of her car in the parking garage and looks around at all the fancy cars. A lot of Mercedes, Audi, BMW and a couple of exotic cars that she couldn't really make out from where she was standing without making it look like she was casing the place. Suddenly, she felt like she was driving the most beat up hunk of junk in the city of New York. She was doing well with her Saturn. It got her from point A to point B. She was happy for now with her job at Starbucks. It paid for tuition and gas for the car. One day, she would pull up in this lot with one of those cars and dressed in fancy clothes that didn't come from The Gap.
She grabbed her leather business purse and locked the car up. She made her way to the large glass doors. She could see a lot of people in suits and skirts bustling around from office to office. A young blonde sat at the receptionist desk signing people in and directing them to the different offices in the building. Sam comes in and Blondie greats her with a million dollar white smile.
"Hi. How can I help you today?"
Sam: "Samantha Whittaker for Dylan Whitman. I'm doing an interview for an internship with his company."
"Hi Samantha I'm Natalie. I'll let Mr. Whitman know you're here."
Sam sits in one of the plush leather seats and goes through her papers in her portfolio and makes sure she has everything she could possibly need for this interview. She went over everything she was supposed to say in her head and took a deep breath. It felt like the longest 20 minutes of her life.
"Miss Whittaker, Mr. Whitman will see you now."
Blondie leads Sam back to a corner office with an amazing view of the city. She leads her inside and she is greeted by one of the most gorgeous men she'd ever seen. He had bright baby blue eyes and chiseled facial features. He looked like he could be straight out of a romance novel. He wore a sharp grey pinstriped suit and had dark raven black hair. Suddenly, her mouth felt dry and every intelligent thought seemed to be leaving her brain quickly. She hoped he spoke quickly before she turned into a pile of goo.
Dylan: "Hello Miss Whittaker, my name is Dylan Whitman and I'll be conducting your interview this afternoon."
He holds out a very well- manicured, soft hand for her to shake. She shakes his hand politely and attempts to make her facial muscles smile.
Sam: "Hello. It's Samantha, but you can call me Sam."
Dylan: "You can call me Dylan. Think of me as one of your best male friends. I want you to be comfortable in my office. Can I get you something to drink?"
Sam: "Yes please. I'll take some ice water."
She takes a deep breath as Dylan has Natalie bring her a cold bottle of water and a glass of ice. She pours some over the ice and offers them both to Sam.
Sam: "Thank you."
Natalie: "You're welcome."
She smiles politely and goes back to the front office as Sam takes a moment to drink. Dylan turns his baby blue eyes back on Sam and Sam feels like he is looking into her soul and can see everything she is feeling including how freaken nervous she suddenly felt. Did it get hot in this office? She felt like she was sweating like a pig when in reality it was nice and cool in the room.
Dylan: "So miss Samantha. Tell me a little bit about yourself. What made you chose this particular Law Firm?"
Oh Lord, now she was supposed to sound intelligent. Ok, think about your future. Stop staring at those damn eyes of his.
Sam: "Well, I was standing in the line registering for classes at NYU and I happened to glance over at the little cork board that they use to advertise stuff on. I saw a flyer that said this Firm was seeking an intern and would work around my crazy school schedule. I looked up the address and found it wasn't far from school and thought why not give it a shot? See where it takes me."
Dylan: "I like that attitude. Are you the" see where it takes me" kind of person or do you need more of a plan that is set for you?"
Sam: "I am a "See where it takes me" kind of person. I prefer to be spontaneous and I like to challenge myself."
Dylan: "You and I are going to get along just fine, Miss Samantha."
He smiles and his smile seemed to light up the room. Was there anything that was flawed on this man? He had good looks and charm to boot. Sam found herself glancing over at his ring finger. Surely a gorgeous man with that much charm had to be taken. No signs of a ring or a tan line where a ring once was. As a matter of fact, his fingers seemed flawless too. She drank some more water and tried to distract herself a little.
Sam: "That's good news."
Dylan: "How long have you been in law school?"
Sam: "This is actually my first year. I just started."
Dylan: "A young success like myself. That's always a good thing."
Sam: "I'm not partner at my own Law Firm yet."
Dylan: "I'm going to make you a successful lawyer. You'll have your own practice before you know it."
The way his eyes sparkled when he said that made her believe that's exactly what he intended to do with her. Did this mean she was hired or was he just buttering her up? It felt like she made a good first impression. She didn't trip or fall over anything on the way in. That's always a good sign. She smiled and said "please" and "Thank you". Oh Crap! The resume was still in her portfolio. She never took it out and gave it to him. How was he supposed to get in contact with her? She opened her bag and handed him her resume inside.
Dylan: "Oh I have all your information. My secretary e-mailed me your file. I will be calling you sometime this week. If you don't hear from my office by Friday, feel free to contact me and bug me. I have a way of forgetting things, but I don't think I will forget you any time soon."
Sam: "And I know I won't forget about you. Thank you very much for your time and the water."
She holds out her hand and he shakes it.
Dylan: "You're welcome. Feel free to take the rest of the bottle with you."
He holds the door open for her like true gentlemen would and she walked quietly to the elevator. As she pushed the button he stood in the door way watching her. She could feel his eyes on her back and smiled to herself. He liked what he was seeing. Once she was inside the elevator alone, she quietly let out a "Yes!" to herself.
Dylan: "Natalie, I want all the information you can find on Samantha Whittaker. She's going to be working for us and I want to know all about her personal life. You know, this stuff nobody puts on a work resume."
Natalie: "Yes Mr. Whitman. Right away, sir."
Dylan: "That's my girl."
He smiles at her and goes into his office. Meanwhile, Sam is driving home and singing along to the radio as happy as she could possibly be. She was half way to her own corner office with a beautiful view of New York City. If Dylan had anything to say about it, it would be a lot sooner than later.