We Awaken

by Calista Lynne

  “You know,” I said, barely louder than a whisper, “I don’t think I mind being asexual.”

  “Then the time I spent being human means more than I dared hope.”

  The noodles were gone, but neither of us moved. We just sat there, lost, using each other for support.

  Finally, Ashlinn screwed up her courage and spoke. “Might as well get this over with. Let’s go talk to Semira.”

  We went to my room, figuring it would be easier for me to succumb to sleep if I was actually in a bed instead of on the floor. It was a good excuse not to revisit the site of our slumber party; that would surely not have been a pretty sight.

  In the bathroom I changed into the pajamas I had been wearing when Ashlinn first appeared in my bed, although there was little reason not to undress in front of her.

  She had placed a chair next to the bed in my absence. It might as well have been a guillotine blade.

  “No way,” I insisted, glaring at the chair like it was something lethal. “You’re lying down with me.”

  I tried to instill every ounce of surety into that one statement. My arms were even crossed to further show my resolve.

  “What’s the point?” she asked with her hands clutching the top. “It’s not as if I’m going to be sleeping.”

  “Even more reason for you to hold me, dammit. It might be our only chance. If I’m going to go the rest of my life untouched, I need to stock up now.”

  That seemed to be enough because she silently pushed the chair to the side with a nod and shut off the lights. Everything was still completely visible in the sunshine coming through the blinds, and she climbed into bed after me, which felt like a reversal of her first night in this world.

  “I don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep very quickly like this. It’s still early,” I told her, pulling the comforter up over us. There was no pretending I was upset by the extra time I believed we would inevitably have to spend together.

  “Don’t worry.”

  I wasn’t, but I let her continue.

  “I have a plan.”

  She spooned up behind me, and I felt the situation should have been a lot more uncomfortable than it truly was. There was a certain level of safety in her arms. With her head nuzzled up behind me, she brought magic into reality.

  First she whispered, “I love you and won’t let this be the end.”

  Oh God, I should have been the first to say it. I wanted nothing more than to return the sentiment. Someone loved me, and it wasn’t out of obligation. They dug beneath the scars and low IQ. This is what I tried to express with my dancing.

  Then before I could even open my mouth to respond like I so desperately wanted to, she began humming a single note. The tone was so low and deep it seemed to relax every muscle in my body. I hadn’t realized how tense I was. My head was getting heavier and sinking deeper into the pillow by the second. It was so plush and welcoming, but I didn’t want to sleep. I wanted to revel in those three words. The second that humming met my ears, though, I was teetering on the foggy area between asleep and waking. In no time I was out cold.

  Bright bursts tore through the darkness of my mind.

  Fireworks.

  I was in a stadium of some sort, and fireworks were exploding into a supernova of glitter that rained down like blessings. Much in the way of blessings, they also failed to reach their destination. I heard a deafening bam followed by a worn-out fizzing sound, and it seemed to stick in my ears after the lights faded. Looking around the stadium revealed only empty seats and a vacant field. Dread chilled my skin.

  “Ashlinn?”

  My stammering voice was swallowed up by silence.

  The sky kept lighting up in a sickening display of color, and I spun around on the large concrete stairs, not feeling safe with my back turned anywhere. At the top of the staircase stood a hot dog cart and an abandoned gift shop. They were only visible when the fireworks went off. I continued turning uncomfortably, scanning the seats, until I faced the field again.

  I was not alone. And Ashlinn was not the one keeping me company.

  An elderly woman was two steps down from me with the unnatural black hair that comes from boxed dye. A murky brown robe covered in different sized, clear buttons hung off her shoulders.

  A gun was pointed at me with near translucent skeletal fingers clutched around the trigger. Those fingers belonged to her.

  Something was off about the whole situation, apart from the geezer with a gun. The air was sick and every seat seemed distant, like I would never be able to reach them even if I ran. I tried, but my feet felt like cinder blocks and I remained immobile. In a similar manner, my vocal cords forgot their purpose, and all hope of screaming for help was lost. My entire world was the barrel of a gun.

  There was another bam like before, except this one was not followed by a fizzing sound. Light did appear, but it was much more focused and erupted only from the point my eyes were locked on. As if in slow motion, I saw the bullet launch and twist in the air toward my heart. The fear culminated in my immobile body as metal tore through bone and the surrounding flesh.

  Then there was nothing.

  My body was floating in a gray oblivion. It was edgeless and claustrophobic all at once. My soul spiraled there for what could have been ages when Ashlinn’s voice cut through the emptiness, tethering me to something.

  “Stop it, you’re going to make her wake up! Stop this right now, Semira.”

  Her voice was muffled, but she was definitely shouting.

  Exiting that abyss was like being sucked down a drain that squeezed and stretched as you filtered through, and on the other side was a room as white as my brother’s hospital. Unlike the hospital, though, there was no visible ceiling. Or any patients, for that matter. Just the culmination of every color of the rainbow into one uncomfortably bright, blank canvas.

  Ashlinn was standing there, glaring at the old lady who had lost the gun after I failed at losing my life. I desperately wanted to run to my girlfriend and demand an explanation, but my feet still felt heavy, so I merely stared and attempted to puzzle out the situation at hand.

  “You’re okay, Victoria. I must assure you I never intended for that to happen,” Ashlinn told me, her eyes never leaving that woman. It reminded me of nature shows where they warn the viewers to not drop their gaze when facing a predator. “We wanted to ask you a favor. I know you are a kind woman but recently things have been getting out of hand. We were hoping a compromise could be made.”

  Ashlinn walked over and took my stiff hand.

  “Don’t you have anything to say, Victoria?” She was looking at me hopefully, and I tried to organize my sensible thoughts among the still lingering memories of fear.

  Why is this important? Right. Ashlinn is going to leave. Nightmares.

  Some girl named Semira is giving everyone nightmares.

  With a shock I realized the old woman had to be the tormentor in question, haggard appearance and all. I’m not sure what I expected, maybe another teenaged beauty. Instead, the foil to Ashlinn’s powers was someone who looked minutes away from being tossed into a retirement home. She was standing before us, sentinel still with those fragile hands clasped behind her back. I’ll give the woman one thing, for such a feeble-looking lady, her posture was impeccable.

  “Well,” I began, partially as a bid for more time, “this is Semira?”

  “Of course she is.”

  “Of course I am.” Her creaky voice came from every direction. There would be no pinning down its origin if it weren’t for her moving lips. She redirected her attention from me to Ashlinn, allowing her gaze to linger over our linked hands.

  “You haven’t been doing your job. I was going to ask why, but I suppose the explanation is standing right in front of me. Funny, I never took you to be the caring type.”

  Ashlinn’s hand clenched angrily around mine. “You barely even know me.”

  “No, I suppose I don’t, but we are one and the same. Entities who exist sol
ely to do the best for people like her. Or at least, you used to hold their best interests in mind. Tell me, is she worth all the suffering you are causing?”

  Ashlinn didn’t answer. She just stared straight ahead. This woman didn’t just toy with her guilt. As if that weren’t bad enough, there was more.

  “Wait, I think I’ve figured this out. She’s a freak like you, isn’t she? Scared of sex and not willing to try. A shame, truly. A pretty girl such as yourself would have made many men so very happy. Just imagine the fantasies. Still, no wonder you got attached to this one. Feeling like less of a mistake is obviously more important than the exhausted parents dealing with screaming infants at the witching hour.”

  Semira was dancing around as she spewed these words, her movements looking downright improbable. I wanted to shout out that it wasn’t the way she said at all and to please shut up, but instead I distilled my disgust into carefully picked words. That was the reason for this endeavor to begin with and our only chance.

  “We love each other so much, and you don’t need to understand the way we show it to know it’s true. Look at us. The idea of never seeing her again makes me feel like I’m drowning. Please just tone it down with the nightmares. There’s no reason for them to continue, and we’re not asking you to stop completely. Just go back to normal. If the world can sleep, we can be together, and you’ll never have to deal with our freakishness again.” The ending I had tacked on with a fair amount of spite, but it seemed justified. Not that Semira noticed. Actually, I had barely gotten out the first sentence when she began laughing with closed lips and twinkling eyes.

  After regaining the little she had lost of her composure, she said, “Oh, sweetie, there must always be a balance. Good and bad, yin and yang, night and day. All those clichés. I got the poor side of the deal, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it. Every hour I get to sift through such beautiful pain, while your love is on the opposite side of the spectrum. She should be more grateful.”

  Ashlinn was still looking at the indistinguishable floor, and I would have thought she was frozen if it weren’t for the little twitch she gave when Semira sarcastically barked out the word love. She got to hear that word from her before me. The dreadful woman wouldn’t stop talking.

  “Even if I did lighten up, there would still be nothing but nightmares and no one to make the pleasant dreams. Ashlinn knows this; returning to our realm is inevitable. Think of all the mothers who can no longer wish their children ‘sweet dreams’ before bed.”

  As Semira glided toward us, Ashlinn wrapped her arms around me. She was muttering the word sorry over and over, and I wasn’t certain who this apology was directed at. The old woman stopped and crossed her arms.

  “You think I can’t judge you, that I don’t know you, but does she?” Semira jabbed her finger in my direction as she spoke to Ashlinn. “How can you think she loves you if she doesn’t even know you?”

  I was shaking my head until Ashlinn placed her hand in my hair and leaned me against her shoulder. Her lips touched the top of my head as Semira’s voice hit us from every angle, still sounding as if it were resonating off absent walls.

  “Your girlfriend will suffer. There is no reason for her not to succumb to my night terrors, and you know it. You’ve seen her as monsters unfurl behind closed eyes. You’ve seen her helpless. If you remain human those visions will be coming for both of you. Now I can see your fears too, Ashlinn. Don’t forget that.”

  As she spoke the room transformed, and Ashlinn jumped away from me in surprise, jostled by the changing setting. Mirrors rose from the shaking floor, concealing Semira behind them. They arranged themselves in front of us in a sort of half-octagonal shape. It reminded me of changing rooms in high-end clothing stores.

  We were reflected in all of them, but only Ashlinn’s reflection was honest. In every mirror I stood next to her but was different each time. My actual actions had no control over the doings of this evil twin.

  In the first one, I was angled away from her with a bottle of pills, downing them as if they were Skittles. In the next I merely stood there, staring straight ahead with hollow eyes jutting out from dark circles. My arms dangled limply, and the whole picture was zombie-like.

  The images got progressively sicker from left to right as my false reflection began making contact with Ashlinn. I was shown shoving at her angrily and turning away repeatedly, leaving bruises and God knows what else.

  The last mirror disgusted me so much I couldn’t settle on whether to vomit or cry, and just ended up standing there, paralyzed. I wanted to hold Ashlinn, to promise it was all an illusion, but that seemed impossible after viewing such a sight.

  There I was, biting at Ashlinn’s neck and rubbing up against her, my hands finding their way down her stomach and toward her crotch. My reflection wasn’t being kind about it. Ashlinn never claimed to be sex-repulsed, but this was masked molestation. The false Victoria must have heard a disapproval of some sort, because the next thing I knew a hand was coming across Ashlinn’s face in a manner that could never be construed as gentle. It was impossible to look at and I almost wanted to saw off my own hands in punishment.

  The whole time, Ashlinn’s reflection remained true to how she was standing, and her face looked half-dead as she watched. Empty eyes and stoic chin. No escape.

  “Stop it!” I screamed, just like Ashlinn had after my false shooting. “Stop this right now!”

  Ashlinn gasped and looked to me with an absolutely shattered expression, her no-longer-dead eyes sparking with fear, and began holding up a hand as if to stop me, but it was too late. A creaky voice said, “Okay,” and the dream began to crumble apart. It disintegrated into gray birds and flew away, leaving me awake. And completely alone.

  Fourteen

  MY HANDS fumbled through the sheets that still smelled of summer from when Ashlinn had lain in them however long ago, and I threw the comforter around viciously in the dark.

  No. God, no.

  And that’s when I saw it: her sundress lying limp and crumpled in the space she had previously occupied.

  It couldn’t end like that. I refused to let everything be over. Surely Ashlinn would come back soon and explain everything. She’d visit me in a dream; maybe the whole thing was just a nightmare, and she was downstairs right now.

  My body wasn’t as hopeful as my mind, judging by the tears blurring this emptier world. Just another case of me unintentionally making things more difficult for myself. I grabbed a flashlight, regardless of the fact I could turn on the lights, and began running around the house praying she’d be hiding out somewhere. I never even got to say a proper good-bye, and now the last image to remember her by was a haunting one. I’d have flashbacks to that moment forever.

  Those images, the despair on Ashlinn’s face—it all kept flickering behind my eyes like something out of a children’s flip-book. Every heartbeat was infected with the memory, spreading it through my body like a poison.

  She told me she loved me.

  I barely made it to the bathroom before I began vomiting. My body turned back on itself and every muscle was trying to snap as my midriff inverted. Talking to Semira had been a horrible decision. Ashlinn was gone, and we didn’t even get to part on a positive note, our last moment tainted by the unspeakable. Maybe what I never got to say would manifest itself in my hopes. That way she’d see them when sorting through dream material.

  Did she know I loved her too? She had to. My belief was the only proof, though.

  If she could forgive me, I would consider forgiving myself. There was nothing left but to carry on, although that didn’t mean I wanted to do it. Being sick in the bathroom got me started cleaning, allowing myself a chunk of time to recuperate. The garbage can of medicine was still standing in the darkened corner, mocking me. From the bathroom I stumbled downstairs and into the living room, still on a hopeless search.

  There lay the pile of blankets from the other night, and I collapsed into them, whispering her name as I gave myse
lf over to debilitating sobs. That night was so happy and so recent, but this last dream was acting as a barrier in my memory. How could I ever recall Ashlinn’s astonishment at Gene Kelly when her horrified eyes were still on my mind? She couldn’t be gone; this couldn’t be it for my love life.

  Every patter against the window or gust of wind turned into her tread to my ears, but she didn’t come to take me into her arms. There were to be no more conversations or soul baring in person. No more Reeves. Even if she still came to me in dreams, touching her would never be the same. While crying every tear my body had to offer, I made up my mind to down some Nyquil—maybe if I could dream she’d visit me there—but when I calmed and my tears were a mere trickle, this idea became tasteless again. She said I deserved better than the drugs. I could respect that. After all, everything else Ashlinn told me had been worthwhile.

  It was nearing morning and the world seemed to be thrumming painful tunes. The time I had spent asleep wasn’t life-changingly long, and yet in that time, the dearest parts of me were snatched away. People should come prepackaged, with handy little labels.

  Warning: This person will show you that you aren’t a freak. They will make you feel loved. Then they will leave.

  I was exhausted, but there was no chance of falling back asleep, not that I had a great desire to do anything other than lie down and wallow in despair. I was nothing but hormones and bad judgment.

  “Come back,” I whispered to the suffocating air. “Please.”

  Only the morning birds responded with distant chirping until motorcycles began revving at this ungodly hour, their roar silencing the song.

  If only I could fall asleep. Make me into a computer to turn on and off until dreams of her form.