Chapter Text
Silhouette. That’s the word for it. The fluently dark shape of a being against another much brighter matter. It was human, yet alien at the same time; there was something about it I could not quite understand. It shrunk and grew deformed, as if leaving, then suddenly – eyes. Bright eyes that glowed a harsh orange colour radiated over my form, allowing me to faintly see the outline of my own legs. The eyes were charismatic, showing more emotion than I ever thought was possible. Anger, joy, depression, excitement... you name it, it was there – except something was different. Those eyes seemed to reflect a screen on my chest, as its face gave away that it knew more about me than I knew of myself. This silhouette was a being which could not be sung away with a song like I had done with other problems of mine, and that terrified me.
Finally, it dawned on me that the figure was now leaning over me, with its face mere centimetres away from that of my own. I tried to scream but no sound came out; I was falling, falling, but the ground seemed centuries away-
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My eyes sprung open and tears stung my eyes – had I been crying in my sleep? Sitting up, I looked down at my pillowcase in dismay – the fabric was soaked in a mixture of sweat and tears which seemed to multiply with every fear that plagued my mind during the night.
The time was 7:06, approximately one hour and nine minutes before I had to be at school. I had no motivation to go to such a place; not much motivation for anything, really. I had lived most of my life like this until the nightmares began, just an empty, grey husk which had experienced few emotions. I got out of bed and took off the shirt I slept in, throwing it into a basket which held all my dirty clothes. Sweat glistened over the black tattoos of rings on my left arm and wrist, two weeks fresh, marking the date of my first nightmare, and also signifying the hold they had over me. I had a quick, cold shower and slipped into fresh clothes, made myself a simple breakfast, picked up my pre-packed bag and headed to school, unable to forget what I had experienced.
It was on my mind all day. I could not focus on a single lesson, and sat alone in a bathroom stall at lunch; yet another result of these unforgiving nightmares. It almost felt as if the humanoid shape with the glowing eyes was now my shadow, yet a somehow better shadow than the one I was already cursed with. Heading home was the usual drag. Homework didn’t clear my mind, just made it harder to think. Food was gravely eaten, then I sunk into bed.
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Eyes. The eyes were there. The light behind the silhouette had turned into the shape of an open door; the rest of the environment came into focus. They were in a room with old fashioned wallpaper depicting magnificent trees bearing golden plums. A mirror leaned against the wall to my left, and the right was bare. I was sitting on a chair of oak wood, and the silhouette stood. It walked towards me and a yellow light flickered on behind me, illuminating the person in front of me. His milky chocolate eyes were surrounded by red; ears pierced and messy hair dyed yellow. Tattoos ran down the sleeve of his right arm.
He studied me carefully; walking in circles around me, leaning over, looking at me, judging me, killing me – he stopped. Barked out a single word, “Sing.”
I was frozen, too scared to move, and I choked on my own saliva. He repeated himself – “Sing.” No response from me, I was terrified. He growled, slapped me – my head turned to the mirror.
My neck was black. The dark void crept up from below my shirt to stopping just below my jawline. I hated singing when I wasn’t alone and I pleaded with myself to just wake up, to end this state of mental torture, but then I sang. I wasn’t controlling it, my thoughts just spilled out of my mouth, and were drawn out into a cracked tune.
“Won’t you go to someone else’s dreams? Won’t you go to someone else’s head?” He looked confused – did he not know what he was doing to me?
“Haven’t you taken enough from me?”
Silence. I didn’t sing further; if he was controlling the singing he didn’t want to hear any more.
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I sat up, gasping, breathing ragged and irregular. I couldn’t comprehend what had just happened. The condition of my throat scared me – it was sore and tender, as if I had been singing all night. I sucked on a butter lozenge as I made my way to school that morning, dazed and drowsy. Though the smooth medicinal lolly eased the burn in my throat, it couldn’t cure the illnesses in my mind.
The first half of the day was generally normal, until Mr. Stone’s psychology class. He informed the class of a new student, something our school didn’t get very often. I nearly choked on my throat lolly when he walked in – messy, bright yellow hair just like that of a highlighter, milky chocolate eyes, and the edge of a tattoo peeked from underneath the right-hand sleeve of his hoodie. I couldn’t believe my eyes; he couldn’t be the one I had dreamed of, but he was.
I suddenly snapped back to reality; I’d been staring at him. He was seated next to me now, staring expectedly. Had he asked me a question?
“Uh, I’m T-Tyler, and you should be on page 273.”
I heard no response from the boy, and turned my head to focus on the page. A shiver sprinted down my spine, I was almost sure that he was staring at me, but I lousily attempted to ignore it. Conflicted feelings battled in my brain, and unable to focus on the teacher’s words, I gathered the courage to look up at him. His eyes had never left my face, and I reacted by snapping my attention to the teacher at the front of the room.
“Joshua! Can you kindly not distract your partner from the task at hand and pay attention to my explanation, please,” Mr Stone drawled warningly, his hazy eyes boring into the boy’s- Josh’s- skull, but Josh seemed to be immune to his glare when I glanced over at him briefly.
I had stopped paying attention the moment I heard the word ‘partner’. I had a wild moment of intense internal panic, ranging from repressed screaming, to exaggeratedly distorted thoughts and everything in between. My brain collapsed, and before I knew it, I had opened my mouth.
“ Fuck .”
I noticed Josh giving me an incredulous look from the corner of my eye. I shrunk into my seat, only just realising that I had proclaimed the summary of my current mood out loud into a room filled with so many people better than me, who probably think I’m just a joke now, oh god.
Or not. Most people seemed to not hear, but Mr Stone was giving me a suspicious side-eye. He directed his attention elsewhere soon enough, however, so I felt safe.
At least, I felt safe until Josh grabbed my wrist in a grip that wasn’t really that tight, but I felt electricity and pain rocket down the length of my arm. My nerves were shot, and I almost didn’t hear his question over the pounding of my heart and his steely brown gaze.
“Dude, seriously, you’re being so weird. What is up with you?”
I didn’t know how to respond to his question, because I had no idea why I was reacting in such an unusual way. I thought quickly and settled on a response that sounded normal for a social interaction.
“I’m okay, I just didn’t sleep very well last night.”
Josh was silent for a second but then seemed to accept my reply. An egg was placed on his desk, and a black permanent marker on mine. Looking around the room, I tentatively guessed that this was an activity where we had to take care of the egg; glancing at the board ahead confirmed this fact, and the egg had to last for the week. I felt my spirits sink. Josh interrupted my self-pity with his stupid, smooth voice with such a ridiculous, innocent question. It made me want to… I don’t know what it made me want to do.
“What should we call him?”
“Jim?” I responded quickly, using the first name that came to mind in my panic to be useful in the project.
There was a sparkle in his eyes and excitement in his voice when he next spoke. “How about Spooky Jim? Our egg’s gonna be unique!”
“That’s sick, dude. Sick as frick,” I responded, a small smile spreading across my face.
He grinned, and I had no idea when he got so close but there were centimetres between our heads, and I found that I didn’t mind. “Sick as frick! I like that.”
The shrill sound of the school’s bell startled me, ruining whatever that… moment between us was. I was glad, I didn’t want this, this was complex and new and, god damnit, I don’t have friends for a reason. I hastily gathered my belongings, before bolting out the door with a brisk wave to Josh, who looked bewildered and slightly hurt.
The ‘dream boy’ was hidden from me throughout the rest of the day. I don’t want to say I was disappointed, although it did save me from the confusing feelings it would bring if I did encounter him again.
Once I returned home, I sat on my bed and opened my psychology book to review the assignment worksheet we were given. My fingers flitted through the pages, searching for the sheet, until a small, folded scrap of paper fell onto the bedsheets below. I froze. I hadn’t put that in there, and I had no clue to how it got there until I opened it.
‘04xx xxx xx7 hi ty, txt me if ur lonely :) -joish’
I blinked, before tossing the scrap beside me uncaringly with a snort. Trust Josh to misspell his own name. I grabbed my sketchbook instead, finding the first empty page. This book was precious and always travelled with me, so therefore its pages were saved for only the most important images. I stared at the blank sheet in front of me, feeling slightly overwhelmed. I always feel this way when I have the capability to do great things from almost nothing, just a pencil and paper.
I touched the graphite to the paper, and let my mind carry my hand through the sweeps and strokes of an intricate sketch. I lost myself, barely realising what I was drawing before I suddenly snapped back into reality when I recognised the person I had half-drawn.
I had drawn Josh. Out of everything my mind could have produced, it was Josh. I huffed grumpily, setting my sketchbook aside as I glared at the wall and moped. Why Josh? I don’t even like the guy!
My eyes drifted to the scrap of paper beside me. No, terrible idea, Tyler stop thinking about that.
I grabbed my phone without thinking and typed a simple ‘Hello, it’s Tyler’. I punched in his number and hesitated before hitting send. I threw my phone across my bed, distracting myself momentarily and then cringing when the device vibrated with a response.
‘sorry, i don’t know who you are…’
My blood suddenly froze in my veins. Did Josh give me the wrong number? Did Josh trick me? Was Josh laughing at me, mocking me for being so gullible? My dark train of thought was interrupted by the phone buzzing in my hand.
‘just kidding, it’s josh! hey, we still need to give our egg a face and stuff’
I felt relief wash over me, almost as if it were a wave. ‘And stuff?’
‘;)’
I groaned, wondering if I should even reply, when he texted me again.
‘wanna come over tomorrow?’
My breath hitched, and I felt my heart skip a beat. It didn’t mean anything, I was just caught off guard. ‘Yeah, sure, why not? :^)’
‘awesome!’
A moment later, Josh had texted his address, as well as a time when we could meet. I quickly saved it in a contact for future reference, adrenaline thrumming in my veins. I barely managed to notice the time, but when I did, I realised it was nearly ten at night. I excused myself to Josh, explaining that I was going to bed through a brief text. I had just climbed under my covers when I felt the buzz of his reply.
‘goodnight, see you tomorrow :)’