More Than One: A Novel

by Fowler, Monica

  “There’s no address on the envelope,” I said. “They were in our dorm.” I held it up to show them. Rach put her hands over her mouth and gasped.

  “Who is A?” Ash asked, his mind calculating.

  “I don’t know,” I mumbled.

  “Well, is there anyone in the dorm whose name starts with an A?” he said.

  “I can’t think right now.” My body was trembling.

  “I can think of a couple of people,” Rach said, “Ashley Greene, um, Amber, I can’t remember her last name. Then there is Angela…”

  “But why would they send a letter like this to me? What does it even mean?” I yelled. Rachel’s eyes were wide.

  “I was just trying to help. I think maybe someone is playing a sick prank on you,” she said. Her expression changed from concerned to hurt.

  “I’m sorry Rach, I didn’t mean to yell. I’ve just been going through so much lately. This is the last thing I need while I’m on the verge of a breakdown,” I said.

  “I’m with Rach on this. I think someone is playing a trick on you, trying to scare you. I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you ever, I promise,” Ash said.

  He smiled and I really believed him. I wiped my face and an odd giggle burst through my lips.

  “You’re right. I’m trippin,” I managed to get out.

  Rach smiled, but her face looked as if she might think there was something behind the letter.

  Ash was already out of the truck, opening my door while balling up the letter.

  “Maybe the A stands for asshole,” he joked. I couldn’t bring myself to laugh again.

  I got out of the truck and Ash was already on the other side opening Rach’s door. Before she moved, she glanced at me again. Without speaking, I could see she was thinking hard about this. After all, it was her room, too. If there was any truth in this letter, she was in danger just as much as I was.

  Chapter Two

  I laid down on my pillow, grateful I was finally home. Today’s events really wore me out. After the swim, I knew I was going to collapse as soon as we got back.

  I really enjoyed being in the pool, but the thirty minute shower is what set my mind at ease.

  It was really dark in the room, except for the digital clock that read one thirty in the morning and I wondered how much longer I would be up.

  Rach had fallen asleep before I even got out of the shower. I was relieved. I didn’t want her to be up stressed like I was.

  I turned over, closed my eyes tight, and waited for sleep to take me. I don’t know if it was seconds or minutes before I finally drifted off, but I knew I had to be dreaming.

  Once again, I was in a place I’d never seen before, and the room was really bright. I tried to lift my head to take in my surroundings, but it was heavy and the light was blinding.

  The room, from what I could tell, was set up like a hospital. I noticed tubes were in my arms and I followed the line with my eyes and saw it was connected to some bags of fluid.

  My mind kept saying, “get up and run”, but my body was too tired to respond. I heard footsteps in the hallway and they stopped in front of the door. I listened and heard two men talking.

  “I ran the regular tests on her and everything looks fine,” the first voice said. “Do you think she will live longer than the normal expectancy?”

  “I don’t know, it’s too soon to tell. I haven’t noticed any changes in her health yet, but we’ll have to keep doing the routine procedures and document any change,” the second voice answered.

  “She is twenty now. That means she only has one more year according to the research. I wish there was more we could do to prevent her passing,” the first man said with grief in his voice.

  “Well, we will wait and be hopeful for a positive outcome, but for now we need to focus on perfecting the ones after her.”

  “What do the reports from her sessions with Dr. Thompson reveal about her behavior?”

  “The reports state she is experiencing erratic behavior. The doctor believes she is confused and very emotional at this point. Her brain has developed at a normal rate. I don't think we can expect her to deviate from what we have already predicted would happen.”

  Finally, the door opened and I closed my eyes. I didn’t want them to know I was awake. I had to fight back the tears as the men hovered over me.

  I squeezed my eyes shut tighter and my breath became uneven; I started hyperventilating. Loud beeps evaded my thoughts and I faded into darkness.

  When I came to, I was in a different room. It was an actual bedroom, but there wasn’t much to it. There was a twin-sized bed, a dresser with a mirror on it, a camera in the corner of the wall, but no windows.

  I walked to the dresser and opened the top drawer. There was a journal inside. I thumbed through the book and all but a couple of pages were filled up with entries.

  I closed the journal and walked to the bed to read it. Before I got to the bed, I looked into the mirror. Something was wrong; something was different. I stared at myself trying to figure out what it was. I touched my hair, my face, then I looked at the eyes in the mirror and figured it out.

  My eyes were a dark brown color and not my usual hazel. I rubbed my eyes to see if I had contacts, but there were none.

  I stumbled back and fell on the bed. My hands flew up to my mouth to muffle the screaming, but it couldn’t be contained. Soon after, someone burst through the door.

  I jumped up and looked around the room. It was still dark. I wiped my forehead and tried to calm down.

  Rach was still silently snoring across the room. Thank God I was only screaming in my dream.

  I turned on the lamp and walked to the mirror. I blinked. “Still hazel,” I said. I rubbed my eyes and looked again, hazel.

  The dream seemed so real it gave me chills. I tip toed to the restroom and looked in the mirror again.

  This dream was really getting to me. In all my other nightmares, I knew it was me, but never got the chance to look at all of my features, until now.

  Why were my eyes a different color? It might not mean anything, but it’s the only thing that was holding my focus.

  I turned on the faucet and splashed water in my face. After I dried my face off, I turned out the light and went back to my bed.

  I laid down, but I wasn’t expecting to go back to sleep anytime soon.

  I grabbed my IPOD out of the nightstand and put my headphones on, then turned the music up full blast. I turned my lamp off and closed my eyes.

  Images of the rooms were flashing through my head like that of the flash from a camera counting down to take a picture. One by one the rooms unfolded in my head, showing different aspects as if I was floating above the room and not in it. There was nothing about the rooms that I recognized.

  I was too dazed to put the pieces together, even though I felt there was no way I could. I blanked out my mind and tuned into the music. Finally, I went back to sleep.

  The next morning, I woke to Rach cleaning her side of the room. I took my headphones off and sat up.

  “Morning, sleepy head,” Rach said.

  “Morning. What time is it?” I replied.

  “Eight-thirty. You must have been really tired. You never sleep this late.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” I said rubbing the back of my neck.

  “I’m really starting to worry about you. You're so stressed lately,” she said with one eyebrow raised. “You’re even stressed out when you sleep. I hear you talking and moving around restlessly. It really freaks me out.”

  “I’m sorry,” was all I could think to say.

  Just like that, the memory of the dream flooded back to me. I got out of the bed, oblivious to anything else Rach was saying to me, and went back to the mirror.

  I rubbed my temples to ease the tension. I didn’t have time to give the dream any more thought. I shook my head and went to the restroom to brush my teeth.

  I started cleaning up after I looked at the time and realized I was running
late. It took about forty-five minutes to get my side organized.

  The whole time Rach was rambling about some guy named Derrick she met at the pool. She was excited about some date they had planned for Friday. At least one of us had a life. It made me think about the mystery guy. He had to be part of my imagination. That was the only way I could explain him.

  After cleaning and getting dressed, I examined myself in the mirror and then sighed. “No weird stuff today,” I told myself and grabbed my bags to leave. After Rach warned me to chill out, I escaped from the room.

  Today was actually uneventful, which was a relief. No crazy thoughts or manic daydreams, I was elated. I went through all my classes with ease.

  I pulled out of the campus parking lot and noticed a S.U.V. parked in the next row, with someone still sitting inside. The windows were tinted, so I couldn’t make out what the person looked like. I didn’t want to freak out because my day was going so well, so I ignored it and headed to work.

  After work, I got to my room around ten that night and I fell, face first, onto my bed.

  Ash must have called Rach because she was gone. I was glad since I didn’t feel like talking. It had been a long day and I just wanted to relax.

  I turned on the television and flipped through the channels. Nothing interesting was on. I thought about finishing up my homework, but quickly changed my mind.

  I decided to put a movie in and maybe laugh a little with some corny comedy. I looked through our selections of DVD’s and found one that looked promising. I popped it in the player and laid back down on the bed.

  Within the first couple of minutes, I was yawning and before the previews were done, I dozed off.

  In my dream, I was running. It felt like I was being chased, but when I looked around there was no one behind me.

  There was a scream that pierced through the night and it made me run faster. My fear then turned into anger and a lurid smile formed on my face.

  I looked around searching for the source of the noise and noticed I was in an alley. I looked ahead and saw it was a dead end. I stopped running, cruel smile still intact, eyes still searching.

  The sobs got louder as I walked forward and then I saw her, balled up in a corner, crying, blue eyes wide with fright.

  “Please don’t hurt me,” she said. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

  I paused, my smile got wider. The victim was in front of me, with her hands up, face horror struck, ready to surrender. I leaned my head to the left and then the right, popping the bones in my neck.

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out a knife. I played with the knife, pushing the blade into my fingertips. I slung the blood that dripped from my fingers onto the ground. The pain gave me a sick sensation I had never felt before. For some reason, I felt more alive. All the while, my prey was whimpering.

  I hovered over the scared victim and saw that she had closed her eyes, accepting the inevitable. I leaned in, grabbed her by her hair to pull her face up. Then from left to right, I took the knife and sliced her throat.

  In that moment, it didn’t feel like me, like something else had taken over my body. I wasn’t the one holding the knife, but instead, I was an apparition in the alley watching everything.

  I gasped as the other me wiped the blade clean on the victim’s shirt and stood up. With celerity, the other me turned and with dark nefarious eyes, she bore into me and grinned.

  I woke with a start. All the lights were out and I felt like I was falling into a pit of darkness. I sat up in my bed and hugged myself to keep from trembling. The image of the woman was stuck in my head and her scream made the blood drain from my face.

  I got up, grabbed my bathrobe, and headed for the bathroom. I felt like a zombie while staring at nothing in particular. I started stripping my clothes off and turned on the shower.

  I looked in the mirror and my eyes were red. Steam filled the restroom quickly and I wiped the condensation off the mirror. I was still dazed.

  I got in the shower and stood there letting the water run off my body into the drain. My eyes burned as water dripped into them.

  Its official. I’ve completely lost my mind. My dreams were turning into something straight out of a horror flick. Nothing made sense anymore.

  I stood there for another ten minutes before I started washing my body. Even in the hot water, my body shook.

  Finally, I got out of the shower, threw on my pajamas, and went back to my bed. I turned on my lamp and grabbed my journal. I started the play list over on my IPOD and put my headphones on. Then, I began to write out the dream, play by play.

  Chapter Three

  August had turned into September without me noticing. And as the weeks went by, the dreams slowed down, but got more gruesome at the same time. I wasn’t having them every night, but they were still about murder.

  After the first dream I had of me killing someone in an alley, I started a dream journal. Every time I would wake up from my mass murdering nightmare, I’d document everything that happened in such detail, it felt like I was writing a book.

  I don’t know why I started this, but it helped me stay up when I was too afraid to sleep and it was another way I could get it off my chest. I still hadn’t told anyone about the dreams, and I didn’t want to keep them bottled up.

  It was Sunday, so I didn’t have any classes, and by chance, I was off work. Rach was already gone and I wasn’t sure where. The room was already clean, so I had nothing to do.

  I looked out the window and saw it was a nice day, so I decided to take a walk. I threw on some clothes and grabbed my keys. While walking out the door, I bumped into Rach coming in.

  “Where ya headed?” she asked.

  “I was gonna take a walk. I’m really bored and I need some air,” I replied.

  “Okay, do you want some company?” she said, putting her things down.

  “Sure, I’d love some.”

  Rach threw on some tennis shoes and we headed out the door. When we made it down stairs, I felt the wind hit my face and it was refreshing.

  “So, you’re free all day, no school, no work. What will you do with yourself?” Rach asked.

  “I’m not sure. This walk was out of the blue, so I figured I’ll just wing it,” I said.

  “Well, you’ve been like a zombie for the past couple of weeks, so let’s try and have some fun today,” she said while nudging me.

  “Yes ma’am.”

  We walked along the path that led to the hill where everyone gathered for picnics. There was once a sign that informed us to keep off the grass, but more than a dozen of students decided to rebel against the crazy law. They gathered there every Sunday, just to hang out. After enough students joined in on the Sunday ritual, the dean had no choice but to take down the sign, figuring he couldn’t expel everyone, and allowed the festivities to continue.

  We sat down on one of the benches. I leaned back and closed my eyes. When I took a deep breath, I could smell the newly cut grass.

  “So, how are things going with Derrick?” I asked.

  “Really great, actually. I really like him and we have such a good time together.” She blushed.

  “Awesome, I’m glad. At least one of us has a life.”

  “Seriously Jay, when are you going to take the time out and find someone? It sucks being single, you know that. There are so many guys interested in you and you don’t even notice.”

  “Like who?”

  “Well, there’s James Caldwell.”

  “Ewww, not him, no way. I think I’d rather live vicariously through you, if you don’t mind.”

  “I do mind,” she said, “I want you to be happy chica, and you can’t be happy through me.”

  “What makes you think I’m not happy?”

  “Jamie please,” she rolled her eyes, “all you do is work and go to school. Your life is pretty pathetic right now. I know something is going on with you and it hurts you feel you can’t confide in me. I mean, we’re like sisters.”

&n
bsp; “I know Rach and it’s not like I can’t confide in you, I just don’t want you to think I’m crazy.”

  “I would never think that. I do want to help if you’re going through something. You should dish, it’ll make you feel better.”

  I considered the possibilities. I was tired of keeping this to myself and Rach is my best friend. I knew I could trust her with my feelings and fears.

  “Please,” she said with wide eyes.

  “Well, lately I think I’m losing my mind. I’ve been having these crazy dreams.”

  “What kind of dreams?” she asked.

  “First, they were dreams about me being trapped in different places, like in a bedroom or a hospital room. In my dream, the same two guys are poking, prodding, and hovering over me. Then there are dreams where I feel like I'm hypnotized. I'm on this couch spilling my guts about things I have no idea about. It is really weird.”

  “Wow, okay, but you said at first. What are the dreams like now?”

  “Now, they are like horror movies. I’m killing people in these nightmares. Every time I have these dreams, they all start out the same. First, I’m scared and then the dream changes and I’m stalking someone. I’m slicing throats and pushing them off of buildings or something like that. The dreams are getting crazier.”

  “Well, are you watching anything scary before you go to bed? You know they say the last thing you watch or read before you sleep, you dream about it,” she said.

  “Yeah, that’s the thing, I’ve been avoiding scary stuff, and I still have the dreams. The crazy part is, after I wake up, my body is tense like I was actually doing the killing. I can’t explain it, but in my dreams, it’s me, except for the eyes. They’re like this pitch black color, and there is definitely something evil there.”

  “So how often do you have these dreams?”

  “Before it was every night or every other night, but now it’s not as much. But, like I said, the murders are worse. Then on the nights I don’t have the nightmares, it’s like I don’t dream at all. There is nothing but darkness, as if I’m blind in my own mind.”