The monster from my childhood stands over my bed like a shadow.
A boogieman.
He’s finally coming for me.
Blood roars in my ears and my heartbeat catches on an irregular, sick rhythm.
Thump.
Th-thump…
Thump…
I screw my lids shut and cover my ears with both my hands. This is a dream. It’s all in my head. The boogieman isn’t real. The monster isn’t real.
No matter how much I chant that, it doesn’t stop the voices from filtering through my high-built fortress.
Murmurs.
Haunted moans.
Pained whimpers.
Heavy footsteps come closer and closer, suffocating me like a vice.
“Hush little baby, don’t you cry…”
No. I place both hands on my ears, trying to suffocate the haunting sound.
I hate that song. I hate the way she sings it with that manic humming and them monsters in her eyes.
“…everything is going to be alright…”
NO!
“Mama’s gonna buy you a little toy… and if that toy doesn’t work, Mama will bring you another one…”
No, no, no…
“You’ll never escape me, Elsa.”
“You’re my masterpiece, Elsa.”
“Elsa.”
“Elsa…”
“Elsa!”
They won’t have me.
Not again.
Never again.
I hit at his chest with both fists. His arms surround me, making me nauseous. I swore I’d never let him put his hands on me anymore.
Not again.
Not this time.
“Maaa!” I screech.
She can help me. She has to help me. That’s what mothers do, right? They save their children from them monsters.
“Ma, help —”
My voice and my breathing cut off.
I’m thrown into water. Dark, murky, bottomless water.
I gasp, but only water fills my throat, my lungs… all of me.
Thrashing, I try to surface, to find refuge from them monsters.
A hand holds my head underwater. It’s suffocating. It fills my nostrils, my mouth, and my frantic eyes.
I can’t breathe.
Please, Ma.
Please, Da.
P-please, help me.
Cold shocks my skin and my limbs turn numb.
I’m floating, drifting…
It’s useless to fight it.
Maybe the one who shall not be named fought it, too. Maybe that’s why his name isn’t spoken anymore.
Maybe I’ll be like him.
Through the foggy haze, someone calls my name with an edge to their voice.
He’s calling my name.
I won’t be like the one who shall not be named.
He knows my name.
“Can you see me behind them monsters?” I ask in my head.
“I do.”
I don’t think he does, but I hold on to that glimmer of a voice.
It’s soothing.
So soothing.
Maybe them monsters are invisible to him.
He sees me like no one did before.
He sees ME.
“Elsa!”
Like being hauled from the depth of an ocean, I gasp and my eyes pop open.
My vision is blurry and all I see are dark shadows. My heartbeat doesn’t calm, thinking I’m at that place again.
However, the arms surrounding me aren’t scary. If anything, they’re soothing. It’s like an escape I couldn’t find back then.
I blink the tears from my blurry vision. Furrowed dark features greet me. Strands of his dark hair fall on his forehead.
I blink once. Twice. He doesn’t disappear.
“A-Aiden?” My voice is so hoarse, I barely manage to get the words out.
“It’s okay.” He strokes my back in tiny circles. “You’re not alone. I’m here.”
I don’t know if it’s because of his words or because of the nightmares I just had.
I don’t care either.
My fingers curl into his T-shirt, my forehead falls against the hardness of his chest, and I let the tears loose.
Sobs wreck my chest, and I let it all out. I don’t even know what I’m crying about.
They were only nightmares. They aren’t real.
They can’t be real.
I curl further into Aiden’s lap and hold tighter onto him. He’s real. His warmth and the strange sense of security I feel in his arms is real.
The nightmares aren’t.
Aiden puts a hand under my bottom and pulls me onto him so I’m sitting on his lap. I wrap my legs around his waist, strangling him.
He doesn’t complain.
He remains silent, stroking my back, my hair and the side of my arm.
I couldn’t be more thankful for his calm, anchor-like presence. He’s here, but he’s not talking. He’s letting me deal with it on my own.
The last time I had an episode like this, strangely, two years ago right after my first day in RES, Aunt and Uncle freaked.
And I mean, they literally freaked.
I thought Aunt was with the monster and I hit her. I screamed and cursed at her. I didn’t stop until Uncle locked her out of the room.
When I regained my consciousness, Aunt wouldn’t stop asking me what I saw. She had a horrified sick look on her face like she was going to throw up. In the morning, they took me to Dr Khan and I had therapy sessions for almost six months.
Since then, I’ve been avoiding nightmares, or at least, the strong crippling ones that seem so… real.
For two years, I never bothered Aunt and Uncle with my nightmares even when I needed a shoulder to cry on. Even when what I saw — what I felt — scared the hell out of me.
It’s strange that Aiden, my tormentor and bully, fills the role no one did.
How can he be the shoulder I cry on?
Still gripping his T-shirt, I stare up at him. His brows are drawn together over the stormiest colour I’ve ever seen his eyes. His features are closed with deep concern.
My breath hitches.
Who thought there would be a day where Aiden King would be worried about me?
I should feel self-conscious for the ugly crying or hate the vulnerability I just showed him. Hell, my face must be chaos right now.
“Hey,” I say over hiccoughs.
His hand doesn’t stop caressing my back while his other hand lifts my chin. He searches my eyes as if looking for something.
Or someone.
“Do you feel better?” His voice is firm, but it’s not harsh.
Some unshed tears rim in my eyes as I nod.
“Did I trigger that by coming through the balcony?” he asks carefully.
“I already had the nightmare when you came so I was triggered before.”
“By what?”
“I don’t know.” My head hurts and I want nothing more than to sleep.
I push the idea away as fast as it came. What if the nightmare returns?
“Are your nightmares always triggered?” Aiden is still holding my jaw, making me stare into his unyielding eyes.
For some reason, they’re not intruding as usual, they’re just… curious. Caring even.
Maybe that’s why I confide in him. “Yes. Dr Khan always tells me to stay away from anything that can serve as a trigger.”
“Such as?” Aiden prompts.
“Candles. Basements. Dim, red light. Deep water such as pools, beaches, and lakes. Sleeping in the dark.” I don’t even know how Dr Khan got the list, maybe it’s from the scraps of nightmares I’ve told him.
My lips part and I stumble to my feet. “The black car!”
Aiden follows me, staring at me as if I’m about to have the episode again.
“The black car,” My voice breaks. “Is there still a black car parked across the street?”
“No.”
“How do you know that?”
“I parked across the street and there was no black car there.”
With snail movements, I slowly peel the curtains of the balcony back. Sure enough, Aiden’s Ferrari is parked across the street, the lamp causes its red to shine.
No sign of a black car.
I sigh and fall back into a sitting position on the bed, pushing wild strands of hair behind my ears. My eyes feel puffy and swollen.
My nose is stuffed and I feel like hell. This isn’t how I want Aiden to see me.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” I climb under the covers, trying to hide my chaotic look.
A sly grin lifts his lips as he sits beside me. “Why did you think I told you not to sleep?”
For some reason, that makes me smile back. “You climb onto people’s balconies a lot?”
“Just yours. I usually prefer doors”
I bite my lip. “Wait. I had the alarm on.”
“But you left the balcony’s door open.”
“Right.” I was too consumed with the rain that I forgot to close it afterwards.
Some part of my brain thinks I should be mad at Aiden for sneaking into my room, but I’m not. Far from it. I don’t know what would’ve happened if I had a strong episode while being on my own.
“Thank you.” Fresh tears sting my eyes and I swallow them in.
Aiden kicks off his shoes and climbs in beside me. His broad frame and tall legs dwarf my bed.
I pull the sheet to my chin. “What are you doing?”
“Sleeping,” he says ever so casually.
“You… you can’t sleep here.”
“Sure can.”
“But —”
Words die in my throat when Aiden presses his lips to mine in a soft, quick kiss.
He pulls me into his chest, so my head lies against his bicep. My nostrils fill with his clean scent and I can’t help inhaling deeper like an addict.
Strong arms surround me as he murmurs, “Just sleep, sweetheart.”
I never sleep if I can help it after a nightmare because I’m scared it’ll continue if I do.
But in Aiden’s arms, I don’t feel scared or paranoid. I don’t even think about the double nightmares I had.
I feel… safe.
I curl my fingers into his shirt and place my ear over his soothing heartbeat — a normal heartbeat.
I close my eyes and surrender to the pull of sleep.
Safe.
