Silence.
My lids squeezed together, a small puff of air being released from my lungs.
Where did it go? Did it leave?
Riiiiinnnggg!
The high-pitched tone squealed through the night like a whining child, turning my blood cold. Fumbling for my bag, I tried to turn it off, dread sinking my stomach. Shutting it off, my ears perked, trying to pick up any noise, any sign it was coming back for me.
Silence.
Nothing.
My shoulders sank as each second ticked by. Maybe it didn’t hear.
Hands wrapped around my ankles, and a scream shredded my lungs as I was dragged from under the car. The sound of fabric ripping across wet pavement exploded in my ears as my body scraped over the ground.
Fingers gripped my body. I was kicking and screaming. The desperate need to live drove my actions as I thrashed against the assailant, my nails clawing at its skin.
“Dinah,” a man’s voice yelled. My arms were forced back to the ground, turning me even more feral and desperate. “Dinah, it’s me! Stop!” The familiar voice was a switch, flipping the lights on.
My limbs halted their assault, my eyes moving around wildly. I was in the parking lot, but every light was on, shining brightly down on a handful of figures crowding around me. They were faces I recognized, both students and teachers, but it was the one with nail marks across his face, holding me down, that socked me in the gut.
Scott stared down at me like I was a wild animal. One he feared.
Feeling my muscles go slack, he let go, his hands moving to his thighs. Sitting up, embarrassment cascaded down at me. The faces in the crowd, friends and colleagues of my father, people I knew from a class, had all seen me break down.
I licked at my dry lips, taking in the specks of blood on Scott’s cheek. “I’m so sorry.” I reached out for him, but he jerked his face away from my touch, his jaw rolling.
I dropped my hand, feeling tears well in my eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes roaming everywhere but to mine.
I blinked rapidly, my head nodding.
He helped me up, his jaw locking as he moved me back to my car. The crowd behind dispersed, but I could hear their chatter, the gossip bouncing between them.
“Scott…”
“Not right now, Dinah.” His tone was tight as he opened the passenger side of the car, indicating he would be driving me home. He climbed in, slamming the door. For a moment he just sat there, the silence thick with tension. Peering at his profile, I saw him grind his teeth back and forth, his hand gripping and releasing the steering wheel.
“I’m sorry.” The need to apologize for hurting him, for being crazy, pushed through my lips.
“What happened, Dinah?” He stared out the window, aloof. Scared.
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
Running my hands through my hair, I glanced out the side window.
“Did you have another episode?” he asked.
My throat so thick all I could do was nod.
He exhaled at my response.
“What do you see when you’re going through one?”
It was so hard to explain, or maybe it was just hard to admit. “A monster. One from my childhood.”
“Like what your sister saw? Gremlins?”
“No.” I shook my head.
“Then what is it?”
“I don’t know.”
He hit his head back into the headrest. “I’m really trying to understand here. I’m trying to grasp how my girlfriend went from perfectly normal to this.”
“This?” I snapped back. “You mean crazy?”
Dropping his face in his hands, he let out another breath.
“I don’t know any more than you do about how or why this is happening.” I twisted to face him more. “Believe me, I don’t want any of this. I don’t want to see things that feel so real I can’t tell the difference between it and reality.”
“See, I can’t comprehend that. How can it feel so real if it’s happening in your head? Why can’t you tell the difference?”
I had no answer to that.
We stayed quiet for a minute before he spoke again. “You scared the shit out of me, Di. I came to surprise you, take you to dinner, hoping to spend a little time together, and I find you on the ground thrashing and screaming bloody murder.” He gripped the steering wheel again. “My economics professor saw…”
“I’m sorry. Next time I’ll check the audience before I go insane.”
“Dinah, come on.” He sighed, exhaustion and pain in his expression. “Don’t make me the bad guy here. I’m trying to understand.”
“I know.” I blinked back my shame. “I’m sorry. I am sorry you have to go through this too.”
“Have you been taking your pills?”
“Yes, but she said they might take a while to get into my system.”
“So, you called for an appointment?”
“Yeah, she can fit me in tomorrow.”
“We have the holiday dinner with my company tomorrow night.”
“Right.”
“We don’t have to go.”
“No, you have to.” I shook my head, knowing how important this was to him. A position was opening up, with more pay, and I knew Scott was hoping to schmooze and get on his boss’s radar. “I go to see Dr. Bell straight after my morning shift at the cottage. I’ll be home by five.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, it will be fun.” It was a total lie, but it was what couples did—went to things you didn’t want to for the other.
He nodded, starting the car, the drive home completely silent.
Getting out of the car, Scott waited for me to come around, his attention dropping to the hood of my VW rabbit.
“Did someone key your car?”
A bullet of fear shot through my heart as I watched his finger trace the thick line cutting through the white paint.
“Damn, they really scratched the hell out of your paint.” He shook his head, turning for the building. “What an asshole. Who does that?”
My eyes were locked on the scrape trailing down my hood like a calling card, my skin flushing hot and cold.
A monster does—a real one.
Chapter 18
“Dinah?” Dr. Bell articulated my name, drawing my attention from the snow falling outside the window, the sky growing darker every second. Soft, light flakes kissed the ground, covering the dry, dead earth underneath in beauty.
The morning and afternoon at work had been filled with kids crying, screaming, running around with sticky hands and puking. I wanted nothing more than to go home, take a shower, and sleep. Not put on a dress and pretend to be normal and happy at Scott’s function.
“Yeah?” I shifted on the sofa, tucking my hair behind my ear.
“You seem especially distracted today. Anything you want to share with me?”
A snorted huff blew from my nose. Just my life breaking apart—no big deal.
“It’s why I’m here. No judgment. I’m here to help you. To help guide you.”
People say that, but it was the biggest lie of all. We all cast judgment, especially on ourselves. Her statement shot my eyes up to her. A wave of déjà vu brushed my mind, the feeling she had said this to me before. An image of her sitting across from me in the café flickered in my head, sharp and clear, her hair styled back, wearing a black coat with fur trimming the collar, a rose pin on the lapel. But when I tried to recall more, it slipped back into the murkiness of that day.
“You all right?”
I rubbed at my head. “Just strange.”
“What is?”
“We didn’t see each other at a café a few days ago, did we?”
“No.” She folded her hand, peering at me skeptically. “What makes you say that?”
“I don’t know.” My fingers pinched at my temple. “Something flashed into my brain like you were there.”
“This was t
he day of your episode, right? The day you were taken to the hospital for your hallucinations?”
“Yes.” My cheeks flushed with humiliation.
“You probably imagined me there. Perhaps as a touchstone. Like a safe space.”
I nodded in agreement, but my stomach twisted, not letting go of the inkling that something felt off. The unease and doubt. I recalled the fur-trimmed black coat she was wearing, though I had never seen her in it.
“Can you tell me what you saw in your hallucination?”
My teeth locked down, the instinct not to tell her overpowering me, turning me back to the window.
“I can’t help you, Dinah, unless you open up to me.”
It was the reason I was here. I needed to get help. The disappointment, embarrassment, and grief I was causing my parents and Scott was unacceptable. I had to force myself to try. Nails dug into my palms, and I blew out a heavy breath, rolling my shoulders back.
“It’s a monster I’ve had dreams about since I was a child. They went away for a while, but now they’re back.”
“What does this monster look like?”
“I don’t know. It’s always in the shadows. Hunting me. It feels…” I licked at my lips. “It feels like it’s coming for revenge or something.”
“Revenge?” Her eyebrow popped over the rim of her glasses. “What makes you think that?”
“A feeling.” My hand curled into my stomach. “Like I’ve done something wrong.”
“Wrong? Like what?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, but I still feel I did.”
“Let’s try to remember. Close your eyes.” She leaned forward, waiting until my lids shut. “Dig deeper into your memory.”
I tried to think back to the monster plaguing my dreams, but I couldn’t latch on to anything substantial.
“Focus on your feelings; dig past the fear. What did you do?”
Relaxing, I tried to concentrate, the fluttering of guilt stirring in my belly—a deep understanding. I knew why it was coming for me, but couldn’t recall what I did.
“I can’t remember.”
“Try. Harder.” Her voice was tinged with frustration. “If you feel guilty, then you did something. How?”
“It’s only a dream.”
“It obviously represents something to you. Figuring this out could help you,” she responded. “You said you did something to it…”
My head started to pound, exhaustion crackling irritation up the back of my neck. “I’m too tired.”
“No. Think, Dinah!” Her demand popped open my eyes, my defenses going up. “Tell me, how did you do it?”
Do it? “Do what?” My lids narrowed on her.
She paused, blinking at me before she got up from her chair. “We can return to this at your next visit.” She went to her desk, pulling out a pill bottle. “I am going to up your dosage.”
“What?” I stood, a knot forming in my stomach.
“Clearly the current dosage is not working.” She walked back over to me, handing me the bottle. “This is a higher dose. Take two in the morning and two at dinner.”
I stared at the bottle, wanting to hand it back to her.
“They will help you, Dinah.” She closed my hand around the bottle. “It’s what you want, right? To get better?”
I nodded.
She picked up a glass of water from the table. “Start now. Show me you are ready to take this journey to getting healthy again.”
Numbly, I twisted off the cap, dumping two white pills into my palm. But something kept me from downing them.
“Dinah?” Dr. Bell held the glass out to me. “I can’t help you unless you want it.”
I wanted it. I wanted to be sane, normal, happy.
Tossing the pills into my mouth, I downed the water. Again, it tasted slightly sweet, but that could have been from the candy I had earlier at work.
A grin spread over Dr. Bell’s face as I handed the water back to her. “Good girl.”
A flicker of confusion battled my lashes. Good girl? What an odd thing to say to your patient.
“I would like to see you again Monday.”
“I have school and work.” I grabbed my coat, hitching my bag stuffed with my elf costume onto my arm.
“Don’t you think your mental health should come first?” She led me to the door. “Time is running out.”
“What?” The last sentence she muttered so fast I wasn’t sure I heard it right.
“See you Monday, Dinah. Have a good weekend.” She motioned me to the exit, shutting the door the moment I was out of the way.
I nodded at her receptionist, who I couldn’t remember the name of for the life of me. I usually was good with details. Stepping by the door, I took in the coatrack. I had always seen it but never thought about it until now. My gaze latched on to a black wool jacket trimmed with fur hanging from it.
My feet paused, my heart picking up cadence. Reaching for the lapel, I held my breath. Right where I somehow knew was a rose pin.
“Can I help you with something?” the receptionist called to me.
“No-no, I’m good.” I yanked my hand away and took off out the door. Anxiety burned at my nerves, dread pooling in my stomach.
Don’t get paranoid, Dinah. You probably subconsciously saw it when you came in, not realizing you did. Logic berated me, while another voice wondered how I’d know a detail as small as the pin on her jacket.
Even more unsettled than when I went in, I ran for my car full speed, hearing my new pills bounce off the plastic bottle like a pinball machine, screaming to the world I was insane.
My cell beeped as I climbed into my car, a text from Scott.
Where the hell are you? Thought you’d be home by 5?
I looked at the clock on my dash blinking out 5:46.
“Shit!” Tossing my bag on the seat, I got the car moving, heading for our place. When the hell did it get so late?
Speeding across town, I got home fifteen minutes later, running up the stairs.
“Scott, I’m so sorry!” I burst through the door to find faces other than my boyfriend’s there.
“Dinah!” David and Marc yelled, holding up their beers in greeting as I entered, making me feel like I rammed face-first into a wall. They looked ready for a party in nice pants, button-down shirts, and holiday-themed ties. I couldn’t fight the annoyance of not knowing they’d be here. I was already dreading being around people I didn’t really know all night, engaging in small talk.
“Hey.” I stepped inside, shutting the door, pulling my attention to the figure in the kitchen. Leanne was dressed in a skater-style, short, sparkly, red dress and heels, her hair curled and makeup done. She looked really pretty. I normally saw her makeup-less in khakis and polo shirts with her hair in a ponytail.
Her head turned to me, and for a brief second, I swore I saw a flicker of fear, guilt, and jealousy, but it dissolved into a soft smile.
“Hey, Dinah.”
“Hey.” I stared at her longer than expected, trying to figure out what I felt seeing her. She had kissed my boyfriend, in our apartment, with me in the next room. Yet I couldn’t seem to drag up any sense of anger or hate for her.
Maybe the drugs were numbing my mood, but I felt no resentment at all.
“You look really pretty.” I motioned to her.
Her eyes widened, and she blushed, like my compliment had made her night. “Really?”
“Yeah.” I nodded, moving deeper into the room.
“Thank you.”
“You do, Grodsky.” David swallowed a gulp of beer, nodding at her. “Didn’t even recognize you.”
She made a face at him, their banter following me to the bedroom.
Scott sat on the bed, pulling his holiday-themed socks on, his expression anything but merry and bright.
“Hey…” I stepped in.
He didn’t answer, finishing getting dressed.
“Scott, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it got so late. My session should have e
nded—”
“Doesn’t matter now.” He went to the mirror, fixing his tie. “We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready.”
“I’ll hurry and get dressed.” I stepped to the closet.
Again he didn’t respond. He strolled out of the room, his voice booming at his friends, being his normal, cheery self.
The weight of his disappointment sagged my shoulders, my frame feeling ten times heavier than usual. I grabbed the black A-line backless dress off the hanger. It had half sleeves and tulle for the skirt trimmed in beads and sequins. It was simple and elegant, but the back made it a little sexy and fun. I usually dressed conservatively, but when I saw this dress, I couldn’t resist and impulsively bought it. Which was another thing I didn’t do.
Shoving my feet into red heels and adding red earrings, I left my hair down and wavy, applying a bit more makeup. I rushed out of the room, not wanting to be the reason they were even more late.
“Wow.” Leanne blinked at me as I stepped out. “You look that way after only five minutes getting ready?” A pained expression went over her features. “Now I really want to kill myself. This took me over an hour.”
Scott’s mouth opened, as if he wanted to respond, his eyes running over Leanne, but he quickly snapped his mouth shut, his attention darting to me. His aloofness melted a tiny bit, his hand reaching for mine. “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks.” I noticed all the guys had on a similar holiday tie. Looking closer, I saw Marc’s had Frosty from the old cartoon version, and David had Rudolph from the Claymation movie. Turning to Scott, I picked up his tie. The floor felt like it dropped away, and my lungs shuttered.
Scott’s tie depicted the Miser brothers. Along with horror films, it was the one movie I refused to watch since I turned seven.
Air sucked from my lungs as I stared at the cartoony clay faces on his tie. One short, round face with bright red flaming hair in contrast to the skinny bluish figure looking prudish and cold. Nothing like the ones I knew. Especially Frost. He was not smooth, clean, and cold like ice. He was a rough, wild—an untamed storm.
“Like it?” Scott tugged at the tie. “We all decided to go old school.”
“Yea-yeah.” I could barely get out a response. It was a movie I never let Alice play when we had our Christmas movie marathon. And Scott knew I’d hated it since I was a child. Did he purposely pick it because he knew I despised it?
Beauty In Her Madness (Winterland Tale Book 3) Page 16