Silent Dreams
Page 1
SILENT DREAMS
– Matt and Sam Series Work I –
Kieran Nimmo
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Published by Kieran Nimmo in cohesion with NI Publishing and TSL Fiction Fund
Copyright 2013 Kieran Nimmo
All rights reserved.
Contents
Silent Dreams
Afterword
More Matt and Sam
Silent Dreams is the premier work of fiction in the ‘Matt and Sam’ series. For more information regarding this series, refer to the information at the end of this publication.
What is love?
Matt sat awake. He gazed from his bedroom window foraging for any sign of existence. In the entire street every window was consumed by an immense emptiness, blackened by the Scottish night. No stirs, no sound and no light produced the pure vacuum needed for nightfall. Suddenly from a house across the street, came an unexpected blaze of light - from a window. A fifteen or sixteen year old girl looking frustrated, rested her forehead and palm on the icy pane.
She like Matt sat with a chilling stillness, scanning for life. As her eyes gravitated towards him, he was placed firmly in her crosshairs. She caught sight of him quickly, as if she had a sixth sense that detected his observational presence. Her facial expression did not rework, her lips pulled down into a frown by the weights of life, remained. Her glare, with an unsettling dedication, was imposed upon him. Matt’s eyes flitted, attempting to find anything that he could look at in an effort to break the awkward eye silence.
Eventually he surrendered and met her eerie gaze. His eyes were locked to her. Despite the distance between them, he could clearly interpret every aspect of her magnificence. Chestnut locks appeared flawlessly straight, flowing to just below her breast. Her hazel eyes breached his soul and melted him to the ground. Her petite facial features were alluring. Her eyebrows plucked into two thin strips of milk chocolate, her nose and lips thin and delicate and her jaw-line was well-defined. The Latte-Frappuccino complexion combined with her hazel eyes and chestnut hair created the perfect Mediterranean look. Her face had an inescapable juvenility.
He surveyed her. She was completing a similar scrutiny of him, he was sure of it. No matter how hard he tried he slipped inexorably towards self-consciousness. Low self-esteem had destroyed entire aspects of Matt’s life. He was a recluse, afraid of what the world might throw at him, but this girl didn’t even know him, he eased at the thought.
To Matt, the very idea that he could seem attractive in any way, to anyone, was illogical. He was near-faithful when considering himself impossible to love or even tolerate. These beliefs had been ingrained within his subconscious without consent. From a tremendously young age (not that he remembers exactly, his memories now fade into one horrific blur) he had been ruthlessly and unremittingly attacked because of his appearance. All of his schoolmates held this ritual of making his life hell, sacred. The little buggers done everything in their power to ensure that he would never, ever make his way into the box societally branded ‘normal’. He was alone and the world is a tremendously frightening place when one is alone.
They met each other’s gaze. The weights underneath her lips released and allowed the corners to float into an ambiguous smile. Matt could feel the pressure in his chest grow. His heart beat at least double its normal rate. He beamed a smile back, struggling to disguise the dominating petrified sensations building within. He felt his palms wet and a single droplet of sweat slither down his spine, like a snake of anticipation.
She refused to break eye contact. That was strange, he reflected, most of the girls that dared to so much as look at his shoes, would have looked away long ago or been harassed into doing so. Had she just zoned out? A momentary lapse of judgment perhaps? An exciting thought inevitably loomed over him, was she actually interested in him?
His rare optimism was crushed when she vanished from the window, he now felt sure that she wasn’t thinking the same way he was, which wasn’t surprising in the least. He was just being an idiot. All the thoughts of love and happiness were irrational when he considered, he had just happened to glance across at his neighbour and her at him for a very brief period. He continued with his interrupted task, considerations of love aside, he searched after exhaling a lengthy disheartening sigh.
Only moments had passed when the girl resurfaced. Her reappearance made Matt genuinely exultant, the feeling lurched onto his blood and flowed through him spreading throughout his body in a matter of milliseconds. She shot him the same cute smile and held a piece of paper against the glass. At first it was impossible to interpret the collection of scribbles. He squinted his eyes to eventually decipher: ‘Want to talk? Call me 0746…’ She carefully rounded the message off with a clear and concise ‘x’, the very sight of which sent waves of electricity radiating through Matt. He reached for a homework jotter and jotted the digits down on the cover page and lurched for his phone.
He tapped the numbers attentively, creating a cacophony of beeps. What was he doing? He gaped down at the completed eleven digit sequence that was the gateway to a whole new person. His thumb hovered over the call button, he was shaking. He didn’t even know who she was or why she wanted him to call. Matt was frightened and he realised it, the snake of sweat branched out and multiplied, biting into his spine. Determination was the antidote and he had made his decision.
She immediately answered. Silence consumed the conversation – or lack of it - fear overwhelming them both. Matt was trembling. Even from a distance she must have been able to deduce that he was nervous – frightened, maybe. She broke the silence with a simple, “Hey,” her voice was soft and degraded to a whisper occasionally.
Matt responded feebly, “h…..hi,” stammering on every syllable, his trepidation rearing itself.
Enthusiasm and emotion filled one of their voices for the first time, audibly Matt recognised her smile forming once more, sending burning chills throughout him. “Why are you up so late?” she quizzed him caringly.
“I never sleep well.” Matt said, hiding the truth. “Why are you up now?”
She explicitly sighed, “Too much on my mind I guess.” Even though this reason was credible, the underlying misery and angst in her voice made it apparent: she was hiding something. She interjected Matt’s deliberations with “What’s your name?”
“Matt. What can I call you?” He answered dazed.
“Sam.” She beamed.
“Nice to meet you Sam!” He heard optimism inadvertently fill his voice for the first time. “I haven’t seen you around before, are you new or something?”
“No, we moved in around a year ago, I guess there was no reason for our paths to cross.” She deepened the conversation.
“Yeah…I suppose.” A smile inadvertently cut into his face when Matt acknowledged her belief in fate – a positively unfounded theory in Matt’s opinion. “You believe in that stuff?” He asked in disbelief – despite only knowing her for three or four minutes.
“Oh, I guess…maybe.” She sounded perplexed, as if she had pondered such issues before but failed to provide herself with a definitive answer. “What about you, do you believe in this sort of thing?”
He laughed involuntarily “Emmm…no! To me it’s just a load of nonsense.”
She audibly scoffed and swiftly progressed the conversation.