Chapter Ten
M y bed, stiff as a board even with the mattress pad, made me shift uncomfortably for quite some time until my body crunched down in the fetal position, where I awoke shortly after to a loud alarm on the opposite side of the room.
Heather’s alarm, to be exact, screeched like a bird, and she was lucky my body had no intention of rising from the bed to smash it to the floor.
My classes didn’t start until Monday, so unless she was getting up early to practice running for a marathon, there was no need to have the alarm blaring at this hour. I tried to cover my ears with a pillow to soften the sound but was too annoyed to go back to sleep. I groaned, grabbed the box of tissues on the side table, and chucked them at her head.
“Ouch!” she yelped in the dark.
“Turn it off!” I demanded.
“What?”
“Your alarm!”
“Ah! Okay!” Silence returned, and I sighed in relief.
“Why was your alarm set?”
“I used to get up and run around this time.”
Go fucking figure.
I glanced over at my clock and choked. “At five-thirty in the morning? Are you even human?”
“Damn, you figured me out,” she joked.
I rolled over to face her in the dark. “I came close to smashing it.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” admitted Heather.
“Really?”
“I shared a room with my sister back home. She smashed about four of them.”
That gave me a good belly laugh. “Damn, girl.”
“I know. Hey, there’s a freshmen breakfast later at nine-thirty. Do you want to come with me?”
Did I? After what happened last night, a part of me never wanted to attend the bogus events this school created again, but Heather had become someone I didn’t mind spending time with. Yeah, I missed the crap out of Nickie and Jeremy, even though the two of us were not on speaking terms—mostly Nickie, Jeremy texted me briefly last night before bed—but it had been nice to have someone else out of that friend group who did ordinary things, even though some of those everyday things made me want to gag. Then there was the not-so-secret society Heather had been invited to, and I had no clue how to bring it up without her thinking I snooped around through her stuff. Trying my best to be a good roommate but also wanting to confront her gave me a headache. I could attend the stupid thing, but that would mean I had to dress up and be a part of something I’d refused to associate with from the beginning.
Heather bit her lip. “So…?”
“Yeah, sure. Maybe they’ll have mimosas there,” I dreamed.
“Is that…” Heather paused.
She had zero knowledge of the alcohol world. “Yes, it’s an alcoholic drink.”
“What’s your favorite drink?”
Surprised by her question and interest in my taste in mixed drinks, I decided on my top three. “Hmm, I like rum and Coke, sometimes a chocolate martini, and I’m obsessed with any drink mixed with watermelon vodka.”
“I wish I could drink.”
“May I ask…” Should I? Was it rude? I’d never met someone who took anxiety medication; then again, how many people came right out and told you what demons they fought?
The flask underneath my pillow burned with regret and lies.
Heather could sense my awkwardness about asking and immediately shifted, her bed creaking in protest. “Nobody has asked me straight out before.”
“Oh, I’m sorry—”
“No! It’s okay!” she interjected. “It makes sense since we’re roommates to talk about personal stuff, eventually.”
Yeah, except not this early in the semester, or day, for that matter, but she was here and ready to be vulnerable with her personal life with me. Minus the little secret society part.
Heather took a deep breath, the sound somewhat shaky, and unleashed her first demon. “Junior year of high school, I dated my first boyfriend, Dan. I was sickly in love with him, to the point I would blow off friends and family to be with him. One night after a basement party with his football buddies, Dan wanted to drive home after a few drinks. I told him no and to let me drive. He wouldn’t have it, and neither did his friends, who were just as smashed. Instead of giving me the keys, his friends carried me to the car, laughing, until one of them hit my head on the door, shoving me into the back seat. I screamed in pain and fear, begging Dan to make them stop and to pull over, when he turned around and told me to shut up and how I always told him what to do and he was sick of it. I had never felt so low in my life. Eventually, the car did stop, only it hit a guardrail, flipping over a few times before landing us in a ditch. I woke up in the hospital, thankful to be alive. Dan and the others didn’t make it. And since my accident, I often wake to my screams from nightmares of what happened.” Heather finished her story with a heavy sigh.
I, on the other hand, was speechless. We sat in silence for I don’t know how long. The air felt tight with emotion. I wasn’t used to vulnerable people, so I felt honored that she would trust me with that personal detail of her life.
When I didn’t respond, Heather continued. “People blamed me for the accident. Some said I should’ve died instead. The football season was ruined, but nobody cared how I felt.”
The lump in my throat grew, making it difficult to speak. “I’m sorry,” I managed to say. Was that even the right thing to say? Her heavy secret made the room thick with sorrow, choking the air from my lungs. How could someone carry the burden of something out of their control? The idea left me feeling as if I were drowning under constant waves, never fully reaching above water for air. I could only imagine how Heather felt under the constant scrutiny back home.
I looked over at her through the darkness, barely making out her body. “And now?”
“I survive with the medication and video therapy,” Heather said.
“Do you take the medication every day?”
“Yes. Every morning when I wake up, I take this little orange pill.”
“Ah.”
What could I contribute to this conversation now that she had laid herself bare?
I thought of my grams and how she would want me to be honest, but to share what I kept for so long in the dark was not a step I wanted to take.
Instead, I chose a less calamitous secret. “I’m only here because of my grams.”
“Did she encourage you?” queried Heather.
“To apply? Yes. Her will stated that if I was accepted that my schooling would be paid for in full and I must attend.” A memory flittered through my mind of us sitting outside on the balcony, my grams tossing a stack of college applications on the wrought iron table. My hand ached after a few hours, because she wanted me to hand write each one out, stating computers were unreliable and faulty. She was alive to see me receive every acceptance letter but Columbia. It came in the mail three days after her death.
A reminder of her once being alive.
Little did I know, her will was set in stone. A full deposit was already made before I even received the letter. Conniving woman.
“She truly believed in you,” commented Heather.
“No, she truly despised my mother’s wishes and planned this little charade behind her back. I never wanted to go to college, but the satisfaction of watching my mother listening to my grams’ will never gets old.”
“Oh my God!”
“Yeah, Grams knew what she was doing.”
“Clearly. Maybe in a month I can ask you how you feel about being here.”
“Sure, but I don’t think my answer will change.”
Heather chuckled. “A lot can change in a month.”
She had too much hope for me to change my mind.
“So, are we still cool for breakfast in the morning?” Heather asked again.
“Just let me try to catch some extra sleep. And keep that alarm off!”
She laughed and tossed back the box of tissues, which hit the wall and fell on the floor with a soft thud. “You got it!”
The darkness of the alleyway contorted into monstrous shapes, sounds of unnatural growls echoing through the emptiness of where I stood, braced against the brick wall. My feet were glued to the concrete, the fear clutching hard on my pounding heart. My airway was constricted in fear; fear of what stalked the midnight shadows. Laced with the stench of death, it formed before my eyes, dark and menacing. One reached forward. Long talons circled around my throat, black sludge dripping off its distorted form. Teeth as sharp as needles hissed in my face, saliva spraying in every direction. It sniffed my hair, my clothes, its black tongue glazing over my cheek. Any attempt to cry for help was lost in the grip of its claws. All the blood rushed to my head, my hands limp by my sides, refusing to touch its skin to break free. Its eyes an endless black pit, with a head covered in horns of all different sizes, was nothing short of demonic.
Every passing second was another waste of trying to escape the clutches of the ghastly beast. My vision started to blur, the hissing turned into snapping, and I braced myself for the impact of teeth. My life flashed before my fucking eyes, every minuscule memory on a film reel, rapidly showcasing what I was about to leave behind. From my friends to family, places, and emotions rooted deep in my psyche.
As if time stopped altogether, I let my final thoughts be of my grams. Her sweet face and strong demeanor never faltered in distress. The last of her words to me came on a wind, of promises to never let my mother control who I was. To never back down and embrace all of me.
Which would cease to exist in a matter of seconds.
All at once, its claws disappeared from around my neck, a rush of air passing through my lungs, sputtering a cough to regain some consciousness of my surroundings. Falling to my knees, the concrete ground dug into my flesh, a strangled whimper escaping my lips from impact. My head hung low, gulping in air. Every inch of my skin seemed to be covered in the sludge it produced from its grotesque body.
I was startled by cool fingers grasping my chin, the action rough and demanding, lifting my head, only for my stained hair to cover my eyes. Too weak to fight, I submitted to whoever held me in place, my body drained and defenseless.
Four simple words chilled me to the bone.
“I will find you.”
I jolted awake, my body shaking with alarm. Looking around my room, night still covered us, Heather softly breathing in the silent space we shared. Racing with anxiety, I quickly grabbed the silver flask, taking a hearty sip, trying to stay silent while recovering from the nightmare that plagued my thoughts.
I took another sip, then twisted the cap shut, shaking the flask only to find barely a shot was left. I would have to head home and refill it as soon as possible.
Unable to fall back to sleep and refusing to revisit whatever sinister nightmare invaded my REM sleep, I shuffled on my slippers, snagged my key card off my desk, and snuck out of the room, into the deserted hallway.
Alcohol rushed through my veins as I descended the stairs and tiptoed right out the front door. I needed to be someplace else besides that dorm room; the walls felt like they were closing in, and not even the alcohol could snuff out the anxious thoughts.
I sat by myself in the dark on the front steps of Carman Hall, thankful to only hear the normalcy of sirens in the distance. Putting my head between my legs, I focused on trying to steady my heart, still racing at an abnormal pace. I couldn’t let my mind wander back, not yet, and maybe not ever, to what lurked in the shadows of my dreams.
It was the male voice, dominant and threatening, issuing a promise to find me that shook me to my core. Who was he? Why did it seem so real?
Dreams of the mysterious red-headed female hadn’t resurfaced since my arrival, and part of me wished for something so dependable to return. At least it comforted my mind knowing what I already expected from the dream.
Who was the man with the baritone voice, and how had he slithered into my unconscious mind? Surely, I couldn’t conjure up something so otherworldly if I even tried.
When my heart slowed down its erratic beating, I lifted my head to the night sky. Stars were never seen in the big apple; rather, the city lights created a soft pink, hiding the little beauties from sight. How I wished sometimes the whole city would shut off the lights just for a few seconds, just to get a glimpse of the world above.
A warm summer breeze lifted a few strands of my hair, my clothes still damp from night sweats. With a shaky breath, I stood, stretching out my limbs and rotating my stiff neck. The alcohol did exactly what it needed to do—tame the phantom that lingered in my soul.
I should go back inside and try to sleep, but how could I when across the campus stood a figure, somewhat unsuccessfully hidden behind a few hedges, dressed in that striking scarlet cape.
I didn’t hesitate as I rushed off the stone steps, straight through the dewy grass, almost slipping as I ran toward the cloaked figure. If this had any connection to what was going on behind closed doors on campus, now was my chance to unmask them.
They must’ve spotted me because they began to run, the scarlet cape trailing behind them. I kicked my legs faster, thankful for the years of chasing my older brother at the country club house, and just made it to the other side when a strong tug pulled me back.
“No!” I shouted as I watched the figure disappear in the night.
I spun around to find Josh holding tightly to my arm. “Let me go, you asshole!” Trying to wrangle myself free was like trying to uncuff my own hands—fucking impossible. “What is wrong with you?”
Josh released me rather quickly and retreated a step back. “Go to bed, Remi.”
“Excuse me? Who are you to tell me what to do?” I snapped, rubbing the arm he’d had hold of.
Josh was tall enough to lean down without moving, inches from my face. He wore black pants and a black zip-up hoodie, covering his head with the hood, a scowl forming on his lips. How he wasn’t melting in the heat, I didn’t know, but he was oddly dressed for a midnight stroll. “You’re lucky it was me who found you.”
It didn’t go unnoticed when his eyes flicked up to peer over my head before giving me his full attention once more. I glanced behind me to see where his eyes had traveled, only to find an empty campus. Whoever that mystery person was with the scarlet cape, they were long gone by now.
Turning back to his stupid, gorgeous face, I crossed my arms in irritation. “Lucky? Right now, you’re lucky I haven’t kicked you in the balls. What are you, the campus police?”
The sneer he showcased on those plush lips was enough for me to reach forward and try unsuccessfully to smack him across the face. Josh’s giant hand closed over mine, pulling me up against his chest. “Trust me, they’re around. Like I said, you’re lucky I found you first.” He looked over my head again. I was about to follow his line of sight once more when he pulled me even closer.
I struggled against him, only to realize my breasts were pushed against his chest. That was enough to cause my nipples to peak. “I just needed some fresh air.”
Josh almost closed the distance, just enough space to speak without our lips touching. My toes curled guiltily. “Use the window in your dorm next time. Don’t ever come out here again this late.”
When he finally released me, I stumbled back on the wet grass, only to take my slipper and give it a good throw at his head. “I can’t believe Nickie is with you.”
He dodged it at the last second, shaking his head. “Really? You’re ridiculous.”
I assessed him up and down. “Says the one dressed in all black.”
Josh smirked at my wandering eyes. “You’re quite fixated on my attire.”
“Stop trying to change the subject.”
Those dangerous lips curled into a Cheshire Cat grin. Fuck, I hated how it made my stomach flutter. “Go inside.”
“Make me, asshole.”
Josh smiled at the challenge and came forward. Trying my best to sneak past those large hands, I was too slow and got tossed over his shoulder, then he carried me back the way I ran, leaving my other slipper completely drenched in the grass.
“Put me down!” I whacked at his chest, only to find hard muscles under the layer of clothing. My hands throbbed.
“Keep your voice down,” he commanded in a tone so deadly that I remembered my common sense and kept my mouth shut.
Not a single complaint came out of his mouth carrying me back up the steps, only to drop me right in front of the Carman Hall entrance.
I stood facing the doors, lacking a slipper, waiting for him to leave.
“Get your key out. I’ll make sure you get safely inside,” Josh quipped.
Rolling my eyes, I pulled the lanyard attached to my key card out of my pajama shorts pocket and waved it over the censor, hearing the click indicating it was unlocked.
Without looking back, I entered, only to turn around to find him holding the door open. I threw my arms out, exasperated. “What do you want now?”
Josh’s baby blues traveled from my bare legs up and over my arms, where he took notice of the little arrow tattoo on my inner right arm. His unexpected touch against my skin where the tattoo was embedded sent goosebumps all over, revealing my forbidden desires.
His lips parted as if touching me was an intimate moment we shouldn’t have shared. Leaving my skin sizzling from his soft fingertips, Josh removed himself from my personal bubble and let the door slowly shut on its own, but not before he had the last word. “Sweet dreams.”
Snapping out of the lustful stupor, I flipped him off through the glass and said loudly, “Good fucking night, asshole.”
He smirked and gave a little sarcastic salute of farewell and disappeared, leaving me with a guilty conscience, heated in forbidden areas of my body, and one shoe.