Natalie Cuddington
My head is still groggy when I wake up, and the ringing in my ear hasn’t quieted down. I roll over in bed to thankfully see that I’m the only one in it. I sit up and Zac is nowhere to be seen. The dresser across the room has papers strewn across the top of it, and there’s a pile of clothes on the floor in the center of the room.
“Zac?” I call out.
Nothing.
I slowly get out of bed and brace myself before I stand up. The room still spins around me, and I’m a little worried that I haven’t been to a hospital yet. I’ve got to have some kind of brain damage going on if I still can’t keep the room still. My shoes are sitting on the floor beside Zac’s bed, so I carefully slip them on. I take a deep breath and step across the room. I’ll get away this time. I’ll find a way out.
I realize suddenly that all I have to do is find where they get into nightmares. I can just enter a nightmare and get back to Rem after the dreamer wakes up. Or maybe Chance will be in that nightmare! I turn right down the hallway this time, but it looks the same as it did when I turned left. I open the first door that I come across but when I walk through it, it’s just more of the same hallway. It’s like instead of walking out of the hallway and through the door, I’m walking through the door and back into the hallway. How does this place work? I continue going right down the hall but everything looks the same. I look back to see the door to Zac’s room not 6 feet behind me. My heart sinks in my chest and I lean against the wall, sliding down to a sitting position on the floor. What am I going to do?
I’m sitting with my back against the wall for about five minutes and no one walks by. There are no sounds around me and all I can hear is the ringing in my ear. But then I start to get this choking feeling in the back of my throat and I try to cough to get it to go away, but it won’t. I feel itchy under my skin and I smile when I realize what’s happening. I don’t have to find where they go to get into nightmares. I can just let this feeling take over. So I do.
I’m sitting in a subway station. There are no people around, and the lights overhead are having a hard time staying on. They flicker and buzz, and a newspaper page blows across the ground in front of me. I’m half expecting to feel better, but when I try to stand, I remember dreams are real to us. I’m still exactly the same as I was back in Dredd. I raise my hand to my left ear and feel the crusty blood inside it. Zac didn’t do a very good job of cleaning me off, I guess. I start to walk towards the stairs, but a train in the distance stops me. I turn back to watch it slow as it approaches, and when the doors open, I decide to get on. I sit in the seat closest to the door, the back of it against the window. The subway is completely empty but I look around to see if the dreamer is hiding somewhere. I seem to be alone. I lean my head back against the cold glass of the window and wait for the doors to close. When they remain open after a long time, I look up to see it just sitting there. Doors open, empty subway station, still train. What’s happening? Where’s the dreamer? But then I hear it. The screams echoing down the empty station, as it slowly fills. I can hear the footsteps pounding on the ground, getting louder as they get closer to the train. I get up and slowly back down the train car, keeping myself steady with the hand rails above me. The screams get louder, but some of them are drowned out by groans and the familiar screech of a hungry zombie. I’ve seen all the movies, and the last zombie dream we were in, was nothing compared to what I can tell this is going to be.
About 20 people jump onto the train and run past me, hitting their shoulders against mine as they make their way as close to the back as they can. I scan the faces of all the people, but they’re all a little blurry; slightly out of focus. I remember Chance telling me the dreamer’s friends won’t be as clear as the dreamer. I have to find the dreamer. I push through the panicking crowd and I hear people crying and shouting and shushing each other.
“Did you get bit?” I hear one of them say.
“No, I’m ok. But if anyone got bit, they have to get off!” another one says.
“I’m ok!” someone else yells.
The doors aren’t closed yet; the zombies can still get on. I make my way farther through the people and see a zombie’s grey and grimy hand grip the side of the open door. Everyone gasps and steps back and I look around, really wishing I had a weapon. But my hand is now clasped around something, so I look down to see that I’m holding a huge sword. My eyes gape at the shiny blade and the intricate detailing on the hilt under my closed fist. My head pounds behind my eyes and I know it’s because I just made that sword appear in my hand. It was a small change to the dream that I didn’t even do on purpose, but it was a huge strain on my already broken body. But I have to go with it. When everyone sees that I have this sword, they back away from me and I can feel their eyes digging into me, waiting for me to do something.
Everything seems to move in slow motion as the zombie pulls itself onto the train, and the three notes I never thought I would hate the sound of, go off. My heart rate speeds up and I can feel the blood rushing through my body, I can hear it in my ears. It’s all I can hear as the doors slide closed, and the zombie looks at me in a way that gives me goose bumps. Everyone screams and I can feel them backing away, leaving me alone to fight this thing. I raise my sword in front of me, not entirely sure how to use it, especially with my bruised arms. The train starts to move and I spread my feet under me to keep from losing my balance. The zombie twitches and snarls a bit before wobbling closer to me. I take an instinctive step back, but when I do, it rushes at me at a speed I wasn’t expecting. It looked like a slow zombie, but it definitely is not. I swing the sword at him and he squeals as I feel the blade rip through his rotting flesh and crack the bone in his forearm. He lunges at me and bites me in the shoulder and I scream out, trying to ignore the gasps of everyone watching. They’ll kick me off the train or try to kill me now that I’ve been bitten. I know he won’t turn me into a zombie, but they don’t know that. I manage to push him off me and I gag as I watch his leg break beneath him, making him stumble back. My shoulder is gushing blood and my head is pounding, but the zombie’s getting up, broken leg and all, and I shudder every time he limps, and the bone starts to angle out and stick through a rip in his pants. He screeches at me again, but this time I’m not afraid. I swing the sword like a baseball bat and feel it slice through his neck like fresh bread. His head flies across the subway train and lands by the door, before his body falls to a heap at my feet. I drop the sword and turn around to see everyone huddled in the corner, staring at me with frightened eyes.
“It’s ok,” I say, holding up my hands. “I won’t turn.”
“Yes you will!” most of them shout.
“No! I’m immune!” I scan their faces again for the dreamer and I finally find her. It’s Shannon from school. “Shannon!” I shout, taking a step closer. Everyone screams and pushes themselves farther into the wall behind them. “Shannon!” I say again. “You believe me, right?”
“I don’t really know you,” she says quietly.
“Remember our secret?”
“Yeah.”
“Can’t you trust me? I swear, I’m immune. I won’t turn.”
“She’s right,” Shannon sighs. “She would be trying to eat our brains by now if she wasn’t.”
The train screeches loudly and seems to tip to the side. Everyone falls over but I grab the hand rail above me, my shoulder practically ripping out of its socket. The train keeps going, but scrapes along the wall of the subway tunnel, making a horrible, ear piercing shriek as sparks fly around outside the windows. We come to another station and the train falls diagonally onto the platform as it scrapes by.
“The tunnel!” I scream. “The train’s going to get crushed when it gets back in the tunnel at the other end of the station!”
Everyone screams and scrambles to grab onto the seats on the opposite side. Everyone is pushing each other and climbing over each other, desperately trying to get to a spot that won’t get sandwiched into the approaching wall. When it hits, the train slows down but the roof and part of the one wall rips off, metal piling inside and threatening to crush us. I move out of the way and try to keep my balance as I climb onto a seat and hold onto it, but my arms are in too much pain and I can’t keep myself up. I fall and slide down the slanted train floor, but Shannon grabs my wrists, my shoulders almost dislocating. Her hands are sweaty and I start to slip from her grasp, and I scream as I slide down the floor again. This is it. This is how I’m going to die.
But the train comes to a slow stop just as my feet come in contact with the subway wall. I breathe a sigh of relief and try to catch my breath. But I don’t have much time, because the screams are coming down the tunnel, echoing so loudly that it’s all we can hear. The zombies are racing to our train, and now that we’ve crashed, it’ll be easy for them to catch up to us, and harder for us to get away. I scramble to my feet, and run down the length of subway train, opening the doors to each new car, trying to get as far away from them, as fast as I can. Everyone else in the dream is outrunning me, which isn’t fair, because they will wake up fine no matter what. Me, on the other hand, I might just die here from being eaten by fake zombies. I stumble to the ground and shout for the crowd to wait up, but they don’t. Of course they don’t. The zombies are coming closer and their rotting teeth are the only things I can focus on.
“I got you,” I hear, as someone grabs me from under my armpits and lifts me into the air. It’s Chance! He steps in front of me and leans forward, motioning for me to get on his back. I climb on and wrap my legs around his waist, and hold him around his shoulders as well as I can. He’s pretty strong it turns out, and can run really fast with me hanging off him.
The zombies are getting closer, but then out of the blue, we’re in a sea of white. Transition. He gently sets me down and sits next to me, letting me lean into his shoulder.
“Are you ok?” he asks.
“I am now.”
We’re suddenly sitting by the swan lake and the sun is still pretty high in the sky. Chance stands up and keeps a gentle hold on me as he does so. His warm arms wrap around me as he picks me up and carries me across the lush grass. I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes.
I don’t even notice the walk to the castle, and I’m totally out of it until we make it to his room. He sets me down in his bed and it immediately feels 110% better than Zac’s. I know Chance actually cares about me, and him taking care of me feels genuine. He takes my shoes off and then pulls the blankets up to my chin and grazes his hand across my cheek.
“Let’s go dream jumping, he said,” I say, my eyes still closed. “It’ll be fun, he said.”
He sits down on the bed next to me. “I’m sorry, I tried to stop him. I tried, but I-”
“It’s ok,” I interrupt. “It’s ok.”
“But it’s not ok.”
I open my eyes and look up at his bruised face. “Whoa,” I say. “You’re hurt too.”
“I’m fine,” he says quickly.
“No, but your face is all blue!” I sit up but my muscles yell at me and force me back down.
“And so is yours. But you’re also hurt other places. And I’m worried about what he did to you with that bat. Are you dizzy at all?”
“The room won’t stop spinning.”
“You probably have a concussion.” His eyes wander a bit and he gasps when he probably sees my ear. “Your ear was bleeding!” He gently touches it and I don’t even move away. “Someone has to come look at you. I’ll go get someone. But I have to make sure you don’t fall asleep, because then what if you don’t wake up? I’ll be really fast… so just… so just try to stay awake, ok? Just… like, watch TV or something.” He grabs a TV remote from the nightstand and points it at the wall, where an image comes to life. It’s like a projector but I don’t see one anywhere. I decide to just go with it and get comfy in the bed. He brings a channel guide up and hands me the remote, his hand gently grazing mine as I take it from him.
“I’ll be right back,” he says.
“Becca.” I can hear my name but it sounds so distant. “Becca?” I’m too tired to answer. I try to nod my head but I can’t seem to move. “Becca, wake up.” He’s lightly tapping my cheek and I want to swat his hand away but I’m too exhausted. “Dammit, Becca, wake up!” I’m able to lift my arm a bit and grab onto Chance’s wrist, and he stops tapping my face and just presses his palm to it. “Are you ok?”
“Mmm,” is all I can muster.
“Becca, someone’s here to take a look at you.”
I open my eyes to see Chance’s worried face in front of me, and a middle aged man behind him.
“I’m Tony,” he says, stepping forward. His brown hair has little streaks of grey on the sides, and there are few strands of grey in his short beard. His smile is warm as he comes even closer to me, and then he crouches down in front of the bed. “Can you sit up?” he asks.
Chance helps me up and sits next to me so that I can lean on him. Man, you’d think that getting hit with a baseball bat, tied to a chair, thrown to the ground, attacked by a zombie and almost chucked out a moving train wouldn’t do that much to you, but it does.
“Can you just follow this light with your eyes, please?” Tony asks.
I nod my head and he turns on a little flashlight, pointing it at my face, but moving it around in different directions. Following it is making me dizzy and after about 10 seconds I have to close my eyes.
“Sorry,” I say.
“No worries,” Tony replies. “Can you just look at my nose, please?”
I nod again and stare at his slightly pointed nose as he shines the light in each eye and then takes it away, studying me.
He pockets the light and sighs. “I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t let her fall asleep, ok?”
Chance nods and Tony leaves the two of us alone. I lean into Chance a little more, taking in a deep breath and smelling his cologne. Except it’s masked with the smell of sweat. But for some reason I don’t think it smells bad; it’s actually comforting.
“I need to take a shower,” he says.
“But I’ll fall asleep if you leave me.”
He gets off the bed and smirks, but I don’t really understand what he’s planning. He scoops me up and carries me across the room to his bathroom, and sets me down on the floor so that I can lean against the wall. Smiling, he leaves and comes back a minute later with his bed comforter and two pillows. I try to calm the butterflies that seem to erupt in my stomach as he wraps me in the blanket and puts one of the pillows behind my head. He puts the other pillow behind my lower back and then pulls the blanket a little tighter around me.
“Alright, I’m going to get undressed now,” he says. “So you can’t look.”
Why am I blushing? “Ok,” I laugh.
“Close your eyes.”
I close my eyes and let out a deep breath. I hear the water in the shower turn on and the scrape of the curtain hooks against the rod as he steps in.
“You can open your eyes now,” he says from in the shower.
I open my eyes and try to see past his silhouette from the other side of the shower curtain. What is wrong with me!? Why am I trying to get x-ray vision so I can see him naked!? My brain must be very damaged.
“Becca?”
“Yeah?”
“You still awake?”
“Yeah,” I say.
“Ok good. So tell me, how old are you?”
“17.”
“Good. And what street do you live on?”
“Hill Street.”
“What colour is your room painted?” he asks.
“Green.”
“Like your eyes.”
I catch myself smiling. “Yeah.”
“What’s 8x8?”
“64.”
“9x10?”
“90.”
“6x47?”
“Uuuhhh…”
Chance laughs and turns the water off. “I’m just making sure you’re still awake.” His arm comes out from behind the curtain and grabs a towel off the rack. When he slides the curtain across, his hair is dripping wet, sticking to his forehead, and the towel is wrapped around his waist. I’m surprised to see how defined his chest is. I mean, it’s not like model style muscle like Zac has, but he has a little bit of something going on there. Like he’s got a bit of a layer of fat, but I can definitely see where the muscles are underneath. It’s like he’s toned with a bit of cushion. Well doesn’t that just sound lovely.
“Your turn,” he says, stepping over the tub and onto the bright blue bath mat.
“What? Oh, no, no, it’s ok, I’ll just stay smelly. Plus I think… Zac sort of cleaned me up.” I say the last part quietly because for some reason it makes me feel awkward.
“Are you sure? Do you want to have a bath or something? It has jets.”
“No, I’m afraid of falling asleep and drowning.”
“I’ll stay in here and talk to you. No peeking.”
“But what if I do fall asleep and you have to pull me out of the water? And I’m all wet and naked?”
Chance laughs a bit. “Ok. Back to bed, then.” He picks me up, blanket and all, and carries me back into his room. Once he sets me on the bed and tucks the blankets around me, he opens his dresser drawers and pulls out some clothes. “Don’t look,” he says.
“Right.” I lean back into the pillows and close my eyes.
Not even a minute later, the blanket is being lifted off me a bit, and Chance is slipping under it. He nuzzles up to me and puts his arm around me, letting me sort of lie on his warm chest.
“Is this ok?” he asks.
I nod. “I like you, Chance. You’re a good friend.”
“I’m still just a friend, eh? You almost saw me naked.”
“I thought you didn’t want to be more than friends.”
He lets out a heavy breath that I can feel on the top of my head. “Right. I did say something along those lines, didn’t I?”
“You did indeed.” I close my eyes and nuzzle a little more into Chance, feeling butterflies erupt in my stomach when he wraps his arms around me a little tighter.
“No, you can’t go to sleep,” he says.
“Just for a little bit.”
“Nuh-uh, you can’t fall asleep when you have a concussion! You might not wake up.”
“Incorrect, Chance. You just have to wake me up every two hours to make sure that I’m still alive.”
“That’s for a mild concussion.”
“What do I have?”
“Not a mild one. Tony’s coming back in a bit to see if we need to do anything else.”
“What if it just gets better on its own?” I ask.
“That’s possible. But for now, no sleeping.”
“But I’m tiiiiired,” I whine.
“So am I. But we’ve got a lot of time to catch up on sleep before anyone will notice we’re not at home. Here, let’s sit up.” He sits up, forcing me to sit up as well, and Chance seems to spin around me. I grab a hold of my head, trying to keep it steady, but it’s too much for me.
“You ok?” he asks.
“Ugh. I don’t think so.” My mouth starts to water and I gag a bit. “I think I’m going to throw up.”
Chance jumps off the bed and grabs a garbage can by his dresser. He takes the plastic bag out of it and tosses it on the ground, a few tissues and food wrappers falling to the floor. He brings the garbage can to me with just enough time to get it in my hands so that I can puke into it. I feel disgusting throwing up in front of him, but at the same time, I’m glad that he’s here. Throwing up sucks, and it’s nice to have him sit next to me and rub my back. My hair falls into my face a little bit, and I’m surprised when he leans into me a bit and gently pulls my hair back, and holds it against the back of my neck.
“Thanks,” I say, out of breath.
“No worries.”
I throw up again and whimper a little bit when it doesn’t really stop. It tastes so sour and disgusting, and just having the lingering flavor in my mouth makes me want to throw up even more. I throw up one more time, and then dry heave a couple times, my body trembling.
Chance rubs my back gently. “I think you got everything out of you.”
“Yeah,” I sigh. “I need to brush my teeth or something.”
“I have mouth wash.”
“Yeah, ok.”
Chance takes the puke bucket from me and gets off the bed, making his way to the bathroom. I slowly get up and follow him on shaking legs. Once I get into the bathroom, I lean forward on the counter and watch as Chance dumps the puke into the toilet. It makes an awful splashing sound and I can hear the chunks landing in the water. I try not to gag but I can’t help it.
“Sorry,” he says.
I just wave him off and gag again into the sink, but nothing comes out. He rinses the garbage can out in the tub and then grabs me a bottle of mouthwash, pouring some into a Dixie cup that he pulls out from the cupboard under the sink. I take it from him and swish it around in my mouth for a bit. I spit it into the sink and then take a drink of water from the tap. My hands are still trembling and I grip the counter to make it less noticeable. Chance’s hand is on top of mine, soft and gentle, and I look up at him.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“It’s ok.”
“Stop saying it’s ok. It’s not ok.”
“Chance… It’s… It’s fine. I mean, it’s not your fault. Stop stressing over it. I’ll be fine.”
He lets out a breath through his nose and nods. “Come on.” He picks me up like a baby, cradling me strongly in his arms, and carries me back to his bed. He props me up with pillows all around me and pulls the blanket up to my shoulders. He sits on top of the covers next to me and puts his arm around me, rubbing my arm. I lean into him again and try to settle the sudden racing of my heart. Why is he doing this to me all of a sudden?
“Do you want to tell me about Adam?” he asks softly.
I shrug. “I miss him.”
“I know. I do, too.”
I pull away from him a bit and look at him. “So you knew him? Were you friends with him? Did you guys dream jump together?”
“Yeah, we did.”
“He always talked about this place when we were kids. But he was sort of vague about it. He always said that he was watching my dreams, and keeping me safe. Any time I was afraid of having a nightmare, he told me not to worry because he would always be protecting me from them. I mean, I was little when he was telling me these things, so I didn’t think anything of it, I just believed him. I didn’t need a reason, right? And there was one night where I had a bad dream, and so I got out of bed to go to his room, but he wasn’t there. But there was something inside of me telling me not to go cry to our parents about it. There was something stopping me from being worried about him. Like I knew he wasn’t home for a good reason. So I climbed into his bed and slept there. He woke me up at around three in the morning, telling me that he was home now and not to worry. I asked him where he was, and he said that he was looking for my dreams. He said he was sorry that he didn’t get to me in time, and I was so tired that I didn’t even ask him what he meant.”
“How old were you then?” he asks.
“I don’t know. ten, maybe?” It’s quiet for about a minute before I speak again. “I found him. When he died.”
Chance looks at me with so much pain in his eyes, and squeezes my arm a little bit.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “That must have been awful.”
“It was. It was horrible, actually. I mean, he was all blue… and wet… and… dead. He was very dead. I just don’t understand how it happened. I mean they told us he slipped and hit his head, and drowned in the puddle while he was unconscious, but what was he doing down there? Why would he be running down by the pool in the middle of the night? It doesn’t make any sense.”
Chance’s eyes get a little glossy and he licks his lips.
“I mean, it doesn’t, right? It doesn’t make sense,” I say.
“Becca, I…”
“Was it because of Rem? Or a Lent? Did a Malevolent kill him?”
He just stares at me, his face so heavy with sadness. But he doesn’t answer me.
“Chance?”
“I don’t want to upset you.”
“You’re upsetting me now!”
“Why?”
"Because you know how he died and you’re not telling me!”
I scoot away from him in the bed, and he stays put where he is. “Becca, please, I just… I don’t know how to say it. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.”
“I guarantee you it’ll hurt.”
“Tell me.”
He sighs and inches closer to me, picking up my hand and cradling it in both of his. “Zac killed him.”
I didn’t think the room could spin any more than it already was, but now I can’t even keep myself upright. I’m holding onto the headboard with one hand and holding onto Chance with the other, just trying to keep myself from falling over onto my face. What did he just say? He just told me that Zac killed my brother, right? Zac, the guy who wants me to join his team, the guy who kissed me and made me think that I liked it, the guy who I thought I had a crush on when I first met him. The guy who makes every girl fall in love with him…. That Zac, killed my brother? No. No way. He’s lying. There’s no way that he could have killed him. We didn’t even live in the same area. We were in Toronto at the time. And he was by the pool. He slipped on the wet tile and hit his head. He wasn’t murdered. No.
I throw up again. I don’t feel it coming, I don’t have any warning, I’m just sitting on Chance’s bed, and then I’m puking all over it. I try to stop myself once it starts to come up, but I can’t, and I shoot my hands up to my mouth, but it just spills through my fingers. I’m climbing off his bed and running to the washroom, the walls moving around me in so many directions. I hurl again into the toilet and I hear Chance come in behind me. I lay my arm across the toilet seat and rest my head on it, out of breath.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“You keep saying that.” My voice echoes a little into the toilet bowl.
“Do you want to know how?” he asks, his voice soft, gentle.
I shake my head. “No. Not right now.” I sit up and lean back against the wall behind me. “One day, though.”
His smile is a little hesitant. “Ok.”
Chance changes the sheets and blankets on the bed, and the doctor guy comes back later to look in my eyes again and makes me follow his finger without moving my head. I tell him that I’m really tired and he says that he thinks it’s safe for me to sleep, but for Chance to wake me up every few hours.
“What about my mom? I have to be home when she gets up for work,” I say.
Tony looks at his watch and sighs. “It is getting to be about that time. Chance, why don’t you take her back so her mom can know she’s ok? Once she’s left for work, bring her back here so she has more time to rest.”
Chance nods and takes my hand as we make our way out of his room. The ground still seems a little unstable beneath my feet, but he keeps a steady hold on me and makes sure that I don’t fall. We don’t talk on our way out of the castle or to the big willow tree, but the silence is nice.
We show up on my doorstep and I look around to see the sun just starting to rise. The sky is dark except for the bright orange in the distance, trying to make its way into the world.
“I’ll text you in a bit, ok?” he says.
I nod, and head inside.
I put on a sweater and pull the hood tight around my face, hoping my mom won’t see the bruises covering it. I stay curled up in bed, my face buried into the pillow, and tell my mom that I’m sick. She lets me stay home after calling the school to say that I won’t be in. As soon as my mom leaves for work, I text Chance and he comes by right away to bring me back to Rem. And after almost a full two days of resting in Rem, I feel ok to go back home. Although I don’t feel like I’ve gotten much rest, since Chance had to wake me up every two hours to make sure I was still alive. Chance is waking me up again for the millionth time, by lightly shaking me. I open my eyes slightly and ask him in my half-asleep voice what he wants, like I’ve been doing the whole time. He just smiles at me and tells me to go back to sleep. Like he’s been doing the whole time. I fall back to sleep really quickly but it feels like I’ve only been out for 30 seconds when Chance is shaking me again.
“Ugh,” I groan. “Stooop. I’m so tired.”
“I know. But Tony’s here to look at you.”
I rub my eyes and sit up, leaning on my arm. Tony drags a little stool across the floor and sits it in front of me, making himself comfortable on it.
“How do you feel?” he asks me.
“Tired.”
He smiles. “Besides that.”
“I dunno.” I shrug. “Good, I guess.”
“Good. Can you follow the light again for me, please? Don’t move your head, just follow it with your eyes.”
I watch the light move around in front of my face and when he puts it away, I blink a few times to get the white dots out of my vision.
“Ok, now just look at my nose, please. With your eyes still on my nose, can you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?” He holds his hands out to the sides and holds up three fingers from one of his hands.
“Three,” I say.
He nods and holds up two fingers from the other hand.
“Two.”
He does this a few more times and then smiles, putting a hand gently on my knee.
“Very good,” he says. “Are you still dizzy at all?”
I shake my head.
“Nauseous?”
“No.”
“Good,” he says, standing up. “Everything else looks fine. You can go back to sleep if you’re still tired. We’ve got a while still before school is out for you.”
“Thanks,” I say.
He smiles and leaves the room. Chance sighs and sits next to me on the bed. I look over at his brown eyes, and at his unstyled hair. It looks so soft, just lightly falling over part of his forehead.
“You should wear your hair like this more often,” I say, without even meaning to.
“You don’t like the faux hawk?” he asks.
Seemingly involuntarily, I reach over and run my fingers through his fluffy hair. “This is more you.”
I get home just before school lets out and I’m standing on my porch with Chance. The bruises on his face are much fainter than when he first rescued me from Shannon’s nightmare, even though it’s only the next day. But I guess more than one day has passed in Rem. I don’t know if I’m ever going to get used to that.
“Thanks,” I say quietly. “For taking care of me.”
“No worries.”
“I feel a little more like myself now. I just thought you should know that.”
“Why?”
I shrug. “I think I was kind of distant last week, when we first met.”
“We didn’t know each other.”
“Yeah, but I just felt so…” I lick my lips and run my fingers through my hair, only now realizing how greasy it is. “I don’t know, I didn’t feel like me. And I was acting differently without thinking twice about it, as if that’s who I always was. As if it was normal for me to be a bitch or be conceited… But I knew it wasn’t me, and I thought maybe at first I was just being different because I was in a new school and no one knew me, and it was my chance to start over and be whoever I wanted. Only I didn’t really like who I was choosing to be.”
“But you weren’t choosing it. The nightmares were pulling you in and those emotions were heightened in you. If you were acting more bitchy than normal, it wasn’t because you wanted to be a bitch at your new school, trust me. I know. I know how this all works. The nightmares are a big influence. Sometimes, no matter how hard you to try to fight it, they hold onto you and twist you up in crazy ways. They like to make people evil, and make the people like it.”
“Well I never liked it.”
He smiles. “That’s the difference between us and them.”
“Well I should get inside. See you tomorrow,” I say, opening the front door.
“Um, I’m going to dream jump tonight,” he says, stopping me.
“Oh, I don’t know if I’m up for it.”
“No, it’s ok, that’s not what I was going to say. I uh, I just wanted to know … Um, if it was ok with you if I, uh …” he runs his hands through his fluffy hair and looks away for a second. “I was wondering if you wanted me to watch you… You know, keep the nightmares away.”
“Sure. That might be nice.”
I go inside and smile at him as I close the door. I slowly make my way up the stairs and walk into the bathroom when I catch a glance of myself in the mirror. The bruises on my face are starting to turn yellow, and should be easy to cover with makeup. Maybe I should do that before my mom gets home. Maybe I should have a shower. My hair is so gross. I’m so gross.
I have a bath instead, and I sink down as low as I can, covering myself in the hot, silky water. It feels good on my sore muscles and I’m immediately more relaxed. I scoop the water up in both my hands and let it pour out, slowly, drizzling back into the tub. The water dripping from my fingers is somehow hypnotizing and for some reason it makes me think of Adam. His wet hair and blue lips as he lay in the soaking tile by the pool. His blank eyes staring right through me. I jump out of the tub and grab a towel off the wall, suddenly so full of rage that I can’t even hold it in. I want to punch Zac in his stupid face. I want to punch him over and over again until he isn’t pretty anymore. I want to destroy him.
If I walk to the school, he’ll probably be gone by the time I get there. I don’t want to walk to his house and beat him up while his parents might be home, so I guess I just have to wait. That’s ok, though. I feel like the more I wait, the more I’ll hate him, and the easier it’ll be to plow my fist into his nose. Instead I put on a pair of comfy PJs and get into bed with my phone, texting my default number.
I wish you could tell me all the things I want to hear. All the things that I wish were true. I wish you could tell me it didn’t hurt. I wish you could tell me you weren’t surprised, or scared, or worried. I wish you could tell me not to worry. I wish you could just show up and say that I’m meant for this, that I’ll rock it because it’s a part of who I am. It’s a part of who you were, and it’s in me too. I wish you could tell me that you’re ok. That you still watch over me while I sleep. That you still protect me in my dreams.
I’ve fallen asleep again, and my mom wakes me up by shaking my shoulder. I look up at her and give her a bit of a smile.
“I brought you some chicken soup,” she whispers.
“Thanks,” I say, sitting up.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better.”
I bend my knees up and set the soup bowl on them. My mom turns my TV on and puts it on some home makeover show before sitting next to me on my bed. This is weird. Why is she being all close and mom-like?
“I made an appointment today,” she says softly.
“What kind of appointment?”
“With a therapist.”
“Really?”
She nods. “You’re right. I want to be ok.”
“That’s good, mom. I’m proud of you.”
“It’s just hard.”
“I know it’s hard. If it wasn’t, it wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be life.”
She smiles and gets up, walks to the door. “Enjoy your soup. And try to rest some more.”
“Thanks.”
I eat my soup and watch home makeover shows, and then I watch dinner party shows, and million dollar house shows. I watch a lot of shows, actually, and finally fall asleep at around midnight. I don’t even realize how tired I am until I feel like my head is sinking into my pillow, and I’m suddenly standing in the middle of a burning forest. Without even thinking about it, I know that I’m dreaming. It must be because I know about the dream world, so when I dream now, I’m more aware of what’s happening. Chance will be by soon to change my dream, so I don’t worry too much. I decide to start walking through the smoking trees, and am very surprised at how little this is scaring me. Ah, right, I can’t get hurt in a dream; that must be why I’m not scared. Why would it scare me if I know it’s not real? I shake my head and laugh at the thought of Zac trying to frighten me, and not being able to do it. But the flames nearby do seem to be getting hot. I touch my arm with my other hand and feel it burning. Even if this dream won’t hurt me in real life, it’s still hurting me now, and I don’t want to be in pain. I don’t want to pretend burn to death! I feel the panic rise up inside me and I start to run, trying to find a way out of the thickening trees. My foot catches on a vine and I fall forward into the mud and leaves. I try to pull myself up, but the mud is deeper than I thought, and I’m sinking into it. I try to pull my hands out but something under the wet dirt is sucking me under and I can’t break free of the suction. I struggle a little bit and try to kick my legs out but the mud just pulls them down farther. The harder I try to escape, the tighter hold it has on me.
“Becca!” I hear Chance call my name from somewhere nearby and I turn my head in every direction that I can, trying to find him.
“Chance!” I yell back. “Help me up!”
He finally comes into view from my peripheral and I see him kneel down beside me.
“Hey,” he says gently.
“Is it actually you, or is it just dream you?” I ask.
“It’s actually me.”
“Prove it.”
“What does it matter?” he asks.
The mud I’m in starts to feel a little cold, and when I wiggle my fingers again, it feels more gooey than anything. I look down to see that I’m starting to pull myself out of Jell-O instead of quick-sand-style mud. Interesting. I lick my finger off after standing up, tasting the delicious strawberry flavour on my tongue. Chance smirks at me and we start to walk through the forest as the flames slowly die around us. But before we get too far, an ear shattering explosion throws us both into the air, landing in a heap of burning leaves. I get to my feet and franticly pat my smoking clothes down.
“Are you ok?” Chance asks me.
“I can’t get hurt, remember!? Are you ok?”
“I’m fine.”
But he’s not fine. Some of the hair on the side of his head is singed, and half his body is practically black. I narrow my eyes at him, but he just shrugs and motions for me to follow him. I go to pick up my feet, but they’re stuck to the ground. I try kicking my knee up, but it’s like my foot is super glued to the forest floor. I look back at the flames making their way towards us, and then back to Chance, who is clearly trying to change the nightmare. But it’s not changing. I wonder if it is Zac who’s controlling it, or if it’s someone a lot stronger.
“It’s ok!” I yell to Chance. “You don’t have to change it; I know it’s not real! I’m not afraid!” But the pounding of my heart seems to be telling me otherwise.
He shakes his head and stomps towards me, out of breath and covered in ash. “I told you I would keep an eye on your dreams,” he says.
I smile at him. “You are.”
“That means I have to change them, too, Becca. I can’t just be here while you’re running for your life. I’m supposed to save it.”
“You did, silly.”
He steps closer to me, and the heat of the flames seem to dwindle to pretty much nothing. I look around to see the forest start to come back to life, green leaves and lush grass surrounding us. My feet are still stuck in place, though, but it doesn’t seem to matter because Chance is so close to me now that our chests are touching. I look up into his eyes and tremble a little as he raises his hand to my face. The back of his knuckles graze my cheek and then his hand slips behind my head, gripping it tightly, yet gently. His breath is on my lips and it tastes a little like an After Eight chocolate, and when I swallow, I can feel it in my lungs. He brings his face in closer to mine, until it’s so close that our lips are touching. His mouth is pressed against mine, his hand is in my hair, and he’s opening his mouth, and so am I. My insides are twisting and twirling and flying around, and my fingers are shaking as I move my hands to his shoulders, slowly wrapping my hands around his neck. I can hear birds chirping up in the trees, and I can hear my heart beating a million times a second, so loud that I swear it’s in my head. Our lips are moving together so slowly, and perfectly, and I suddenly realize that I never want to wake up. This dream is perfect. And it’s even more perfect because I know that part of it is real.
I wake up, the feelings from the dream still lingering. I sit up in bed and turn on the light on my nightstand, looking around my dimly lit room, trying to make sense of it all. It was a dream. There wasn’t even anything for sure telling me if I just kissed Chance, or if I kissed Dream Chance. Even if it was real Chance, it wasn’t real me. If it was real Chance, that means he was kissing dream me, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. How does he feel about that? Is it weird that it was real for him, but only half real for me? But it felt real. It felt so real. I guess most dreams do, though, right? I still can’t help but smile when I think about it, and my fingers find their way to my lips. I swear I can still taste the chocolate mint on my tongue. I can still feel his lips against mine. I flick my light off, and curl back up under my covers, still smiling.
I’m dreaming again and I know that I am right away. It’s another nightmare, I can tell by the feeling in the air. What’s with all the nightmares lately? Just because I know about their world, they just all of a sudden have to give all their scary dreams to me? The sky is dark and the clouds are thick and black, moving towards me at an alarming rate. I turn back to see if I should be walking in another direction, but the sky is red that way. The houses all around me look exactly the same; grey siding, white front door and two windows in the front with a low peaked roof. Rows and rows and rows of the same houses, same bright green grass, same gravel driveways. I decide to go into one of the houses and take cover before it starts to storm, but the first one I try is locked. I ring the doorbell, and after no one answers, I decide to go try the next house. I cut across the lawn, but once I get halfway, the grass under my feet rips open and a skeleton hand peeks through. I squeal and jump back in surprise. The hand comes farther out of the ground, and before I know it there is a whole human skeleton standing in front of me, panting. Yes, the skeleton is panting. I take a slow step back, but it twists its head at me and follows. Every step I take, it matches, and keeps the same distance between us. Chance hasn’t shown up this time and I wonder what’s taking him so long. Who’s in charge of this one? Is it Zac? He has to be around somewhere, so I turn around and start to run, thinking the skeleton won’t be able to keep up with me. But it can. Its stupid bone legs are fast little buggers, and I can hear its heels digging into the squishy grass with every step it takes. My stomach is turning at the thought of it catching up to me and touching me or tackling me, I can’t help but look back at it every few seconds just to see how far away it is. Every time I look, though, it’s still only a few feet away.
My eyes catch sight of someone’s foot stepping in behind one of the houses so I take a sharp turn and cut in between them, coming out in the backyards. Of course it’s Zac. He’s just standing there with his arms crossed, leaning against the back of the house.
“You can’t change your own nightmares, Becca,” he says in a mocking tone.
“Who said I wanted to?” It’s only now that I realize I’m out of breath from running. I look behind me and notice that the skeleton is gone.
“Oh, sorry, I guess I didn’t make it scary enough for you.”
I shrug and smile at him, which only makes him twist his eyebrows at me. “Where’s Chance when you need him?”
It thunders so loudly that I hunch my shoulders and look to the sky, the black clouds rolling and lightning dancing all through them, lighting them up for split seconds at a time. The rain starts then, and the drops are big, and they hurt as they land on my head and shoulders. The cold rain mixed with the humid air makes a steam rise up from the ground and it’s so foggy that I can hardly see Zac in front of me anymore. But I can still feel him there, so I take a few steps forward, remembering what Chance told me about him, and feeling the rage bubble up inside of me again. I finally reach him and am able to see him through the seemingly killer raindrops and thick fog. I want to punch that stupid smirk off his stupid face and break his stupid arms. I feel a smile spread across my face as my fingers curl into a fist.
“What are you doing?” he asks. “Careful there, you know I’m the one who’s controlling this nightmare. I can make it a lot worse for you.”
“Can you? Ever think that I can make it worse for you?”
“Huh?”
Without even thinking, or planning on how to do it properly, I swing my fist at his face and hit him square in the nose. It hurts my hand and I have to shake it out, but knowing that I’ll be fine when I wake up gives me the strength to do it again. He stumbles back the second time, throwing his hands up to his face.
“What the fuck!?” he cries.
I lunge at him and kick him in the groin so hard that he falls to the ground, landing on his back. A splash of water sprays up around him and some of it lands on me, mixing in with the heavy rain. I walk up beside him and kick him in the side, forcing him to curl in on himself. He rolls onto his side, but I like this, because now I can just kick him in the gut.
“Stop it!” he yells.
“Why?”
“Because this is real to me! You’re actually hurting me!”
I kick him again. “And it wasn’t real when you hit me in the face with a baseball bat?”
He’s on his stomach now, rain dripping off his face. He slams his hand into the ground every time I kick him in the gut, and he sort of laughs through a cough.
“I know you killed my brother,” I say, before sending my foot full speed into his face.