When my side starts aching, and my lungs begin to protest, I find a bench to take a moment and catch my breath. From what I can see, I’m the only one on this part of the trail now. The others must have paid more attention to the sky. The once bright blue has darkened, and clouds are moving in. It isn’t much longer before a wet droplet slides down my face. As much as I love the rain, I don’t feel like being caught in it.
I’m about to leave when something catches my eye, something moving beyond the trees in the dense woods, something big. I return to the trail following its graceful movements, trying to catch a better glimpse of it. The rain steadily increases, almost at a downpour, hindering my vision. I try to block some of it with one hand and use the other to wipe the rain out of my eyes. I catch up to others on the trail, but they’re heading in the opposite direction to get out of the rain. I keep moving forward, squeezing between the retreating horde. It’s almost like I’m back in the dream. Dodging people, instead of taking different alleys, and keeping my focus on the dark figure. I need to know what or who it is.
The woods thicken, my drenched clothes weighing me down, I’m going to lose it if I don’t find a way over that fence. Checking my surroundings, I take a running start, and hop over the railing, but just barely. I release a moan, my leg burning where it scrapes against the top of the gate. A small trail of blood leaks onto my sneakers. I can’t stop now. Twigs crunch under my feet and water splashes up to my knees as I push my legs faster. My contacts shift, obscuring my vision even more than the torrential downpour.
My arms throb from bouncing into trees like a ping pong ball and my legs burn from the scraping of low hanging branches, but I have to keep running. I’m getting closer. Now I can clearly see the outline of a person. “Hey!” I call, hoping they will stop. He takes a few more steps and stops suddenly. I try to stop as suddenly and almost lose my footing in the mud. Panting, I try to catch my breath again. Fear creeps up, and my heart rattles in my chest. I don’t know who this person is, or what they want and now I’m out here alone with him in the woods.
“Who are you?” I keep my distance while asking. He has a black hooded jacket on so I can’t see any features except his shape, I assume it’s a man based on the body type, but I could be wrong about that. Mustering up every ounce of courage I have, I speak louder. “I asked you a question.” The hooded person shakes their head and disappears in a flash of light.
I stand there in the pouring rain for what feels like hours before I will my legs to take me home. Was the person real or did I just imagine him? If he is real, how did he just disappear? There was no blur of his jacket, just a flash of light and then nothing. Am I actually going crazy? The flash of light could have been lightning from the storm, but lightning wouldn’t have made him vanish. Unless there wasn’t a man there in the first place.
I reach for the phone, instinctively dialing Hanna’s number, but I can’t bring myself to hit the call button. I want the person in the woods to be real, the irrational part of my brain is hoping it was him, the man from my dreams, and Hanna will talk sense into me. She’s dramatic but logical. She would say it was a combination of the rain and stressing over the dream, or lack thereof, that caused me to see a person, who wasn’t actually there, disappear into a bright flash of light. Honestly, I feel crazy just thinking about it.
When I finally make it back to my house, my hair is soaked, and my clothes cling to me like a second skin. I’m so numb from what I saw, or what I think I saw, I don’t realize how cold I am until I walk into the heated house. Running through the trees must have exhausted me. After changing into dry pajamas, I crawl into bed and immediately fall asleep. It’s been so long since I’ve had the dream, I no longer expect it. It takes me by surprise when I find myself in the all too familiar alleyway.
I’m almost too scared to look, but there he is, like he’s been waiting for me all this time. I only have a few moments before the monster comes, and I have too many questions to be scared. Without thinking, I move out from behind the box and run. I’m not missing another opportunity. I run straight towards him, and for a moment, I think I see surprise register across his face, but as quickly as it came, it’s gone.
When I reach him I’m not sure what to say, but the footsteps I’ve been longing to hear become audible, and my time is running out. I gaze at him for a moment before finally blurting out. “Who are you?”
He smiles, and his top lip thins into a straight line, “You’re almost ready.”
CHAPTER 5
“WHAT AM I ALMOST READY for?” He doesn’t say any more. His face falls, and his blank stare returns as the monster’s footsteps grow louder. I notice more about him now that I’m closer. He’s taller than I remember and his ears a little larger than average, but maybe they only seem that way because of his strong jawline. His eyes are the same blue up close as they are from far away, but his brow bone sticks out a bit further, and a scar runs from the corner of his left eye, halfway down his cheek. I run out of time trying to coax him into talking again. The monster is closing the distance between us, and the only option left is to jump into the ocean behind us. I hear the monster’s roar once more before the water swallows me in its icy grasp.
I spend most of the morning in a haze, trying to figure out what he meant. What am I almost ready for? The question floats around in my head like fog. All I want to do is go back to sleep, to talk to him again, but it doesn’t work that way. No amount of aid can nudge me back to sleep when my mind is currently running a marathon.
My phone buzzes, notifying me of my upcoming appointment with Dr. Delaney. I question whether I should tell him about the dream changing, or if I even want to go. Before, I went because I wanted to find a way to stop the dreams, but that’s not the case anymore. I call Hanna to tell her about the dream, but there’s no answer. She must be with Thatcher again. I don’t know what she sees in him, but I have to be supportive and only hope he isn’t like his friend Drake.
After wasting another hour lying in bed, I decide to call Dr. Delaney’s office to cancel my appointment. “Dr. Delaney’s Office, how can I help you?” Franny, the receptionist, is always so cheerful. At least the handful of times I’ve had to interact with her she has been. “Good Morning, this is Nadia Clarke. I’m calling to cancel my appointment.” I hear the clicking of the keyboard before she speaks again. “Would you mind if I put you on a brief hold, Ms. Clarke?”
“Um, sure.”
“Great, thank you. Please hold.”
I wait a few minutes before Dr. Delaney takes over the call. “Nadia, can I ask you why you are trying to cancel your appointment?”
“Oh, I just don’t think I need to speak with you today.”
“Has something changed?”
I’ve never had a psychologist seem to care so much. This guy is either overly dedicated to his job or in need of my money. “No, not really. I just have more pressing matters to attend to today.”
“Mental health is not something one should put on the back burner.” Does he think my mental health is at stake? To be completely honest, it might be. Sane people don’t see strangers from their dreams in reality much less watch them disappear into lightning.
“I’m not putting it on the back burner, Dr. Delaney, I just think I’m doing better now, and need to rearrange my priorities.”
“You’re doing better? I assume that means you’ve been sleeping.”
“Yes, I have.”
“And you feel like you are more alert and productive with your studies and personal life?”
“Yes.” My answer isn’t as strong as I want it to be. My studies are average, and at this point, I’m not sure what I would call my personal life. The words tragic, pathetic, and nonexistent come to mind.
He picks up on the hesitance. “Nadia, I believe you should come in for at least one more session.”
“I appreciate your thoroughness Dr. Delaney, but I would still like to cancel my appointment.”
“I understand, but I be
lieve you would benefit from-” I hang up the phone before he finishes his sentence. I’m not in the mood to be guilted or forced in any way into another appointment. His money problems aren’t my problems. I drag myself out of bed and into the kitchen. Coffee made at home just isn’t the same as coffee from Corner Brew. I add more milk to make it drinkable and carefully plop down on the couch. The coffee swirls dangerously in the mug, and a small drip of the coffee lands onto the white carpet. With a sigh, I rub my sock over the wet rug, hoping it doesn’t stain.
I can’t get my mind off of the dream. I want to talk to him, I need to talk to him, to get some answers. If I don’t leave this house, I will surely drive myself crazy, or crazier than I already am, so I decide to go for another run. It’s only somewhat in hope of seeing him again in the woods. He was there when Drake attacked me, and he was there watching me run. I know it now, no matter how crazy it makes me sound or feel, and I need to know why. Why he was following me and why he has been in my dreams since I was a little girl.
A cloudy overcast moves in bringing a chill in the air. The wind gently pushes my face as I run against it. More people blaze the trail today, forcing me to zigzag around those not going my speed. I’m pushing myself harder than ever, running as fast as my body can handle, but it doesn’t seem fast enough. I focus on steadying my breathing, in through my nose, out through my mouth. Breathing is the hardest part of running. My legs can run all day, it’s the scratching of my throat and the aching in my lungs that force me to stop.
No birds clutter the sky today, just the rustling leaves to leer at. The trees thicken, I’m almost to where I saw him yesterday. At first, I think I imagine it, a side effect of wanting it so bad, but then I see it again. Something is running alongside me through the woods. My arms swing faster, trying to keep pace with my legs. If I can reach the spot I jumped last time, I may not lose him. The steady thump of footsteps becomes more erratic, my breathing grows shallow, and sharp pains stab at my sides. It isn’t enough, I’m not fast enough. I lose sight of him as I’m almost there. My footsteps slow when a sharp burning pain grows out from my shoulder. My arms reflexively move forward, barely saving my face from hitting the concrete.
“Son of a...” I trail off thinking about how Hanna always tries to censor me. Maybe it’s starting to work.
“Nadia? Are you ok?” Will kneels beside me, moving the hair out of my face to examine the damage.
“Will, what are you doing here?” I ask between groans, grabbing my shoulder with the opposite hand. A sharp sting flourishes in my hand. I pull it back to the see the broken skin on my palm. The concrete wasn’t as kind to my hands as it was to my face.
“I was jogging. I didn’t know this was where you jogged.”
“I didn’t know you jogged at all,” I say, gently rubbing my shoulder with the back of my hand.
“It’s new, I’m giving it a try. You said it helps you clear your mind so I thought maybe it would do the same for me.”
I almost ask him if he needs to talk but realize I’m most likely the reason he needs to clear his head. Then I remember why I was running so fast. I frantically search the woods trying to see if he’s still there. He isn’t. I lost him.
“What are you looking for?”
“Uh, n-nothing.”
Will eyes me suspiciously before looking around the forest in the direction I’m facing. He squints his eyes as if it will help him see through the trees. “Nadia, are you ok?”
“Yea, my shoulder is just a little sore, and my hands a little cut up.”
“I didn’t even see you coming. Why were you running so fast?”
“Oh, I was just trying to increase my heart rate.” He isn’t buying it. What would be the harm in telling Will? When I first told Hanna about the dream, she told me not to tell anyone else because they would think I was crazy, but not Will. He might have a different perspective, something that might make me feel a little less crazy.
“Will, can we go talk?” A couple runs past us, and we dodge to prevent their legs from crashing into us. I hope I’m not that oblivious when I run. “Before we get mowed down.”
“Of course. As long as you don’t mind the smell. I’ve been jogging a while.”
“Don’t worry, I’m used to the outdoorsy scent.” We walk to a small bench just up the trail, and I gather my thoughts as pick at the skin around my fingernails. I attempt to start the conversation several times but stop myself. Will patiently waits until I’m ready to talk. “I’m not crazy, ok?” That’s always an excellent way to start a conversation, right?
“Ok,” He replies after laughing. “I know you’re not crazy, but you are acting a little odd.”
“I’ve been having this dream. The exact same dream. Ever since I was six years old.” I pause to gauge his reaction. He seems curious but not judgmental.
“When I was little, I used to have a recurring dream about dinosaurs taking over the world, but they stopped when I got a little older. What happens in your dream?”
I hate talking about my dream. I always look like a coward. A crazy, possibly mentally ill, coward. “Well, I’m in an alleyway hiding behind a large box or crate in the shadows. I see this man on the other side. He just stands there looking at me. And then a monster comes after him, and I’m too scared to help him, so I just hide.” I look away from him while I explain the dream and hesitate before turning back.
“That’s not so bad. It means you have good survival skills.”
“I let the man die every time for 15 years.”
“Nadia, he’s not real.” I open my mouth to argue with him but stop myself; I almost tell him how real the dream feels, how I believe he is the one who saved me from Drake, and how I feel a connection to him, but realize how ridiculous it sounds. “So, you don’t think I’m going crazy?”
“For having the same dream for 15 years? No, of course not. You can’t control your dreams. It’s an involuntary reaction. Believe me, if we could control our dreams, mine would be a lot more exciting.”
“What if I told you the dream recently changed?”
“Changed how?”
“I tried to help the man. I got the monsters attention and then ran from it until I woke up.” I intentionally leave out the part where the man finally spoke to me. I may not want to tell him that part just yet.
“It’s a little odd the dream changed after so many years, but again, that’s not up to you. I don’t believe in all that dream interpretation junk, but maybe there’s some small truth to it. Has something recently changed? Something that would make you feel brave?”
I know what he was implying. He’s hoping he’s the change in my life that’s making me brave. Who would turn that down? He could be right, but something tells me it has more to do with the man in my dreams than it does with him. I decide now isn’t the time to tell him about finally speaking to the guy. He doesn’t think I’m crazy, but he also doesn’t understand. This is the first time he doesn’t fully understand me, but I can’t blame him. Even I don’t fully understand it. How can I expect him to?
“You’re right, it’s just a dream. I’m being silly.” I shrug, and he pulls a face. I have to come up with something, or he’ll never drop it. As much as they dislike each other, he and Hanna are very similar. “I’ve been told before it may have something to do with my mom’s death. Maybe that’s it, I’m just finally dealing with it.” He nods and gently rubs my bum shoulder. It’s the perfect escape, he never knows what to say when I talk about my mom.
“Well now that we have expertly deduced that you’re not a lunatic, what are your plans for the rest of the day?”
“Oh, I have a big day of procrastination ahead of me.”
“What are we procrastinating this time?”
“Another exam coming up and a couple applications due next week. I miss the old high school days when you could pretend sick to blow off a test, and it didn’t matter.”
“I can’t say I remember those days.”
“Your m
emory can’t be so bad you forgot high school.”
He laughs. “I remember that age, I was just never one to blow off assignments.” Of course, he would be the teacher’s pet.
“Would you like to help me blow off studying? Get a feel for what it’s like to live on the other side?”
“As much as I don’t condone procrastination or slacking off when it comes to education, I can’t say no to you.”
“Great,” I smile knowing I successfully found an excuse not to study, and a distraction from the turmoil my mental state is in. “What should we do today?” I rub my still aching shoulder. Will must be stronger than I realized.
“Try to take over the world?”
“That’s a tempting offer, but how about a movie instead?”
“One day you’ll wish you had taken me up on my offer.”
I laugh. “And on that day, you can say I told you so.”
“I’ll remember that.” He helps me off the bench and leads the way to his truck.
…
The truck fills with a comfortable silence for the entire drive to the movie theater. If Will feels awkward around me after everything that happened, he doesn’t show it. He even changes radio stations for me when the commercials interrupt the music. I want to believe everything can go back to the way it was before, but will I ever be able to look at him the same way again? Will I see him as the friend I’ve grown accustomed to or the guy who pines for me?
The Other Side of Dreams (Nighstalker Novels Book 1) Page 5