One
Kallie
Crimson races down my limbs like a canal, funneling in a steady stream until it drip…drip…drips onto the soft soil beneath me. It begins to crust over me like a second skin. The splatter stains my face, streaking down my limbs and soaking into my clothes, worming its way into my pores, seeping into my flesh and becoming part of me. The true mystery is not knowing who it belongs to, whether it stems from my injuries or that thing I just stabbed. I’m not sure and, frankly, don’t care.
Thump. Thump.
Thump. Thump.
The slash I made across its chest was deep, maybe not deep enough, but there was no way in hell I was sticking around to find out. Now all that’s left is to run as far away from the scene of the crime as possible and pray to whoever is listening that the creature is long gone.
Knowing my luck, that won’t be the case.
The low-hanging branches scrape the side of my face as I sprint past. The unsteady sensation of twigs snapping and rocks shifting under my feet almost cause my knees to buckle.
Thump. Thump.
Thump. Thump.
What the fuck is that noise? My head snaps side to side, but I’m only met with darkness. Perspiration coats my skin, my eyes dilating as they adjust to the shadows around me.
Thump. Thump.
Thump. Thump.
I can’t believe this is happening again.
Spotting a tree big enough to conceal me, I make a sharp left turn, taking a few more lashes from the unforgiving limbs before throwing myself against the trunk. The pain from the bark trying to embed itself into my flesh allows me to focus on something else for a second.
Squeezing my eyes shut, a tear threatens to escape. I place my hand over my chest as my breathing becomes faster, shallower. In that moment, I realize the incessant noise is my erratic heartbeat, beating so fast as though attempting to rip upward into my throat.
Trying to get my bearings, I glance around and don’t notice anything out of the ordinary.
My senses are being clouded by the overwhelming sensation of eyes boring into the side of my skull.
A feeling I know all too well.
My skin prickles with goosebumps as the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Shaking the unwanted feeling off, my eyes squeeze shut as the air enters my lungs in a slow stream, mimicking the same speed as it escapes from between my lips.
There’s an eerie silence that envelops me, causing all my senses to heighten.
Trees line my sight with the vengeful branches that caused the assault to my face. The ground seems relatively flat. Out in the distance, the ground…dips…as if there’s a cliff I could fall off of. The logical part of my brain would see that as a big neon flashing sign that reads Do Not Enter. But the other idiotic part of my brain screams at me to go down and see what lies beneath.
My attention is pulled to the palm of my hand where my fingers grip around the hilt of a knife. The weapon appeared from thin air, coming to my aid when I needed it the most.
Examining it as closely as I can, I make out the handle is roughly half the length of my forearm, the blade curves slightly, and if there was any light, I’m certain my eyes would meet a crimson stain.
Where did this come from? I ponder the question as the previous events from the night play out in my head. But like a blip, a spark from nothing it appeared when I needed it the most, and it saved my life.
Mom always said, “ Don’t run with scissors, ” but maybe if she had, her pathetic, miserable life would have ended a lot sooner. She would have an absolute aneurysm if she saw me right now, and that thought almost brings a smile to my face.
Like the world appears at the brink of dawn, the light is minimal, trying to showcase the sleeping forest. My vision is still coated with disorientation, and the never-ending weight of eyes on my side doesn’t lift, stoic and steady.
Stepping away from my small reprieve, there’s an undeniable crunch that causes my body to wince.
Please be a twig. Please be a twig , I think to myself but make no effort to look down.
Just in case.
The terror-inducing gaze heats my back as I trek forward, making it feel as if rays of light are striking, dissecting me from the inside out, leaving me open and bare for whoever looks. I have to use every ounce of willpower I have to not turn around. Naivety seems like the best route at the moment.
The howling wind sings its eerie melody, a ghostly whisper brushing over me, strangely lacking the chill I expected. A thought occurs to me that it should be freezing, judging by the chill on my nose. The jammies I wore to bed are long gone, something new and foreign in their place. Although, that is extremely irritating, seeing as they were my favorite pair. Due to their lack of material, I most likely would have died from exposure alone, so for now I am grateful for the change.
Peering down at myself, I try to get a sense of what is plastering my body. I run my fingers from my wrist up toward my chest and down my stomach. Covering my torso seems to be something long-sleeved, heavy, and durable. The areas that are not coated in blood are easily identifiable. My fingers brush against the material, finding the patchy splotches of dried, crusted blood as well as areas that are almost as soft as butter.
Continuing my exploration, there’s a break where the hem of my shirt meets the top of my pants. Patting my hand down the pant leg, I find it to be the same fabric. It feels soft as I move my leg, noting that it’s also very flexible. It molds to my body, kissing my flesh like a past lover. Realization dawns on me, and my brows stitch together in confusion. Leathers adorn my skin, and I have not a semblance of an idea of where they came from, seeing as I’ve never worn them a day in my life.
Fear slithers through my veins as the thought of someone changing me enters my mind. Hyperventilating seems like one of the stupidest things I could do in a situation like this, and yet, I can’t help myself.
Pull yourself together, I tell myself. If that thing is still after you, you have way bigger fish to fry. The thing. The beast with razor-sharp claws and yellow beady eyes. A monster that’s in every little kid’s nightmares. The one they’re afraid is lurking in the depths of their closet at night. The last thing you need to be concerned about right now is your damn outfit.
With a final exhale, I step forward, only to be halted by a single sound echoing in the distance.
Crack .
I whip my head around so fast I’m surprised my neck didn’t break. Somewhere to my left, something lies in wait.
Thump. Thump.
Thump. Thump.
Just take some deep breaths, Kallie. You’re gonna get through this. My thoughts are cut short as my skin is set ablaze.
The penetrating stare is unyielding, and the slightest ghost of wind brushes the nape of my neck. My stomach drops as I twist, inspecting the space, but find nothing. more snap off in the distance makes the hair on my arms rise, and I take off running.
Thump. Thump.
Thump. Thump.
I’m typically directionally challenged, however now my sense of direction is nonexistent. With no knowledge of which way is home, or even the way out of this Goddess-forsaken forest, I have no choice but to keep going. Sweat trickles down my spine, and my legs burn like a raging inferno, but I keep pushing, welcoming the screams from my muscles.
Nothing is making sense. Yet, it never does.
Gods, that thumping is insufferable! How am I supposed to think straight when all my attention is focused on how fast my heart is fucking pumping. As if I had willed the sound to quiet all on my own, it becomes fainter, like I dropped it and left it behind. A chill shoots straight down to my bones when the final piece clicks into place.
Footsteps.
Was it ever my heartbeat to begin with? Has it been the sound of my tormentor following me this entire time?
As though an illusion was being cast, the creature appears about a hundred yards behind me, unmoving, like it’s frozen in time. But with a single blink, it advances, gaining speed and growing much, much closer. My gaze snaps forward just in time. A long, thick branch is outstretched along the path, and I nearly miss the opportunity to duck.
A warm breath of air moves effortlessly across the back of my neck, followed by an indecipherable whisper that makes me break out in goosebumps. Just as soon as it started, it all stops, and I’m surrounded by the stillness of the woods once again.
Against my better judgment, my head swivels, and I look through narrow eyes over my shoulder to see if there’s anything behind me.
That’s all it takes. A split second of distraction, a single moment of hesitation, to run smack dab into an immovable, sturdy structure at full force that knocks me right on my ass.
At least it would have if the sturdy wall hadn’t grown arms and latched onto me with a punishing grip. A brutally loud scream erupts out of me, and I jolt upright in bed.
Sweat clings to me, drenching me from head to toe and leaving an outline of my body imprinted in the sheets. Chest heaving, my breaths are ragged and unsure, unable to fully grasp my surroundings.
My best friend and roommate, Kate, looms over me, clenching her chest like she’s the one that had the most realistic nightmare of her damn life.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Kallie, you gave me a damn heart attack.” Kate has always been a little dramatic. She goes on and on about how I’m going to kill her, and blah, blah, blah. It’s the same old song and dance every time this happens. Can’t say I’m surprised, but I’m tired of the third degree.
These nightmares happen, at the very least, a few times a week. They didn’t used to be as frequent, starting once a month since the night I turned sixteen. But over time, they’ve become chronic. Like a disease festering just under the surface, lying in wait to make its debut appearance, and by then, it’s too late. You’re already infected.
With that, I would have thought Kate would’ve been used to them by now, but that’s what I get for assuming. Normally, when I finally come back to reality, she’s standing over me, doing exactly what she’s doing right now. But I prefer when she falls asleep so I’m able to sneak out peacefully, and she’s able to stay ignorant to the aftermath. The former makes it a little harder to get out of here unscathed.
Since our sophomore year of high school, Kate and I have been inseparable. She’s my twin flame, and we were, without a doubt, sisters in another life. It was an ongoing joke in the house that we were separated at birth.
Kate’s home life was anything but ideal. The neighborhood she lived in was pretty rough by any standards. Empty liquor bottles were the best decor special, lawns were overgrown, and the amount of trash that littered the streets was enough to fill a landfill. Her parents were no prize either. Two drunk, good-for-nothing, abusive, neglectful sacks of shit. They didn’t care about Kate in the slightest. Some people just shouldn’t reproduce. Some people shouldn’t be able to breathe either, but they’re still kicking.
As clear as day, I remember walking to her house to drop off the notes and homework she had missed over a few days. The image of her standing in the doorway will forever be scorched into my memory. Clothes three times too big draped over her body, and her golden locks were matted to the side of her head. of her eyes was swollen shut, and the road map of bruises leading to the one formed around her throat was too much to bear. I clenched my jaw so hard I was certain I would crack a tooth, but it was a small price to pay to keep the urge to flinch at bay.
Unshed tears glistened in her eyes, and I wordlessly wrapped my arm around her shoulders and brought her home. Aside from what I told my father, we never spoke about it again, and she hasn’t left my side since.
“I understand you can’t control what you dream about, and as your best friend, I’m always here for you, but these episodes are getting out of hand.” Breathlessly, she flops herself onto the bed next to me, pinching the bridge of her nose.
Kate decided to major in psychology in hopes to help other kids in similar situations that she grew up in. I admire her tenacity, and I know she only wants to help, but right now, at this moment, I’m having very appealing thoughts of throwing her out the window.
“I’m sorry my nightmares are such an inconvenience for you, Kate, but like you said, I can’t control it. This shit feels so fucking real, and the last thing I need—after quite literally running for my life—is you bitching at me for having an involuntary response to something while I’m fucking sleeping!” I snap, and the bewildered look on her face shows that she was not expecting that kind of response.
Looking over at the clock, frustration bubbles to the surface when I note it’s 2:30 in the fucking morning. Our first class starts in five and a half hours, and there’s no way I’ll be able to go back to bed.
“I’m sorry. I know you can’t help it.” She lets out a sigh, and her shoulders slump, looking defeated. “I just wish there was something I could do. Do you want to talk about it?”
“It’s the same thing, just like every other nightmare. I’m chased, watched, grabbed. I scream, and here we are,” I exclaim as I throw my arms out and gesture to the mess that is myself.
It doesn’t matter how many times we try to talk it out; it’s the same fucking dream every time, and the more I try to dissect it, the more confused I get. “I’m gonna go shower. I feel sticky and gross, and I need to clear my head. Maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll catch some more sleep before class. Great start to freshman year, right?” I say with a slight chuckle, trying to lighten up the mood.
“You shower. I’ll change your sheets. I love you. I’ll see you in the morning,” she says with a smile, but it looks forced.
Grabbing my shower caddy off the chair, I slip on my shower shoes and pad through the living area and kitchen before heading out the front door. We opted for a dorm room with two bedrooms and no bathroom, which in hindsight isn’t that bad—until we found out not only was it communal but also co-ed.
There are quite a few advantages to showering at almost three o’clock in the morning. Nobody is awake, the hallways are clear, and there isn’t anyone in the bathroom for me to accidentally flash. A soft giggle escapes me, and I shake my head as that thought passes through my mind.
My eyes involuntarily flutter shut as the first wave hits. I start to get lightheaded and reach my hand out to the wall for support. I don’t want Kate knowing what kind of toll the nightmares have on me. The cool wall kisses my forehead, and I take deep breaths, trying to calm myself down.
My skin is always hot to the touch after, so the cool wall offers me a little reprieve from the embers exploding below the surface. A single tear cascades down my cheek, and the thoughts from the past flicker behind my eyes. I’m scared, petrified, to think about what this all means.
My mom tried to sweep it under the rug when my nightmares first surfaced. After a year went by and they were still happening, she thought I was just crazy. Just what every teenager wants to hear from her mother. I remember hearing her and Dad talking one night in the living room when I wasn’t ready to let the monsters plague my dreams.
I creep down the stairs, following the soft glow of the floor lamp from the living room. I hear the hushed voices of my mom and dad arguing near the burning fireplace.
“Jenna, I don’t see you coming up with any ideas on what to do next. She is terrified to go to sleep at night. Do you know I have to slip sleep aid in her milk at dinner? I do this in the hopes she will drink it all and maybe be knocked out enough that her mind can’t conjure up even a dream.” My dad’s voice drips with concern, but I know about the pills. I just dump my drink in the sink while he’s not looking. I don’t want him to stay up all night worried when the next incident is going to happen.
“Well, Harrison, I do have one suggestion, but you have shot that down every chance you get.” The vein in my mother’s temple bulges with her reply.
“That’s not an option! Her principal called me today. She’s concerned about Kallie’s lack of focus in class and whether she’s getting enough sleep. I tried to reassure her that we’re doing everything we can, but in the end, there’s only so much we can do,” my dad explains.
I thought I had been doing better in class.
“There is one other option, Harrison. You know, as well as I do, she needs help. I made a call and–” Her words were lost as my dad’s voice overpowers them.
“We are not, and I repeat, are NOT sending her to that place. All they’re going to do is pump her full of god knows what, and she’ll be left numb. That isn’t even on the table of possibilities of consideration.” His eyes bulge out of his skull, and my mom’s throat bobs as she swallows. I’ve never seen my dad this angry, this upset. And from the looks of it, neither has she.
“She needs to be sent away. I can’t take this anymore! First, we take in her trainwreck of a friend, and then, out of nowhere, she starts screaming in her sleep! This is pure madness, and I won’t live like this any longer. This is it, Harrison. Them or me.” My mom’s hands are balled in fists at her sides, and my dad stares at her with the most blank expression I have ever seen on his face. Without hesitation, he says, “Them.”
Her mouth falls open with an audible gasp. She stands there, eyes blinking—unbelieving that she wasn’t enough. But it’s the harsh truth she has to face, because the reality is, Dad can’t give up on us, and I know he never would.
I’m shocked it got this far, even though Mom is a tyrant with a superiority complex who has only ever seen Kate and I as burdens with loads of baggage, she’s never had the motherly feeling I see my friends at school have with their moms. No kisses goodnight, no bedtime stories, never a comforting embrace.
“You’re joking.” Mom’s statement comes out as a whisper, like her senses finally snapped back to reality after watching the life she had planned fade from her memories.
“I’m not.” Dad replies, sternly. Mom scoffs, shaking her head in disbelief and without another word, she heads toward the kitchen. Once she’s out of sight, my dad rubs a hand down his face, letting out a sigh of defeat.
Returning to my room before either of them makes their way upstairs, I climb into my bed and tuck the covers under my chin. My gaze looms out the window as I stare at the glowing moon and flickering stars. Thoughts filter through my mind of flying in the night sky, feeling the crisp, cool breeze kiss my cheeks and letting clouds dance over my skin. My eyes turn heavy, and I begin to drift off to sleep as a single tear makes its way onto the bridge of my nose and hits my pillow. I send up a silent plea that dreams will meet me on the other side and not the demons that haunt my nightmares.
When I wake up, it’s peaceful. No sign that a nightmare occurred the previous night. And there isn’t any trace of my mom either.
A few moments pass as the memory fades away. Pushing off the wall, my feet continue to carry me toward the bathrooms. Suddenly, a heavy, uneasy feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. Goosebumps instantly scatter over my exposed flesh, and my movements halt while my body feels heavy, weighed down with a strange intensity.
Hesitantly, I peek over my shoulder, muting the screaming voice in my head that’s telling me to keep moving. When I do, I’m greeted with nothing but silence and the deserted hallway. Sweeping the vicinity one last time, I shake my head and let my body relax. Disoriented and on edge, I finally make it to the showers and let out a small breath of relief. A hot shower calls out to me like a long-lost friend, and it brings a smile to my face. That’s what I need. A hot shower fixes everything.