Authors: C.S. Burkhart
Tags: #horror stories, #horror novels, #thriller novels, #horror books, #thriller books, #psychological book, #psychological horror books, #psychological horror story, #psychological story
“
Don't give me that. I can tell
when you have something on your mind, so what is it?
”
A flat direct tone. She meant business. I loved that
tone of hers for some reason.
“
Something is
happening
to
me,
”
I started,
“I don't know what it is. But I can't remember things very
well. I'm having these, these
nightmares
and I haven't been able
to sleep because of them. I feel like I
’
m
awake, but everything just starts going wrong and it feels so real.
And sometimes when I am awake, when I
know
I
’
m
awake, it still happens. I
’
ll be sitting
on my couch or something and suddenly I
’
m
somewhere else. You have no idea how real it is, I can feel my
body
interacting
with stuff, touching, feeling the new place I end up and the
things in that place.
”
That was surprisingly honest. And
she wasn
’
t judging me or thinking that
I
’
m insane, even though I did. In fact,
her
“
I Mean Business
”
face slowly melted away into her
“
Why Didn't You Tell Me Sooner I'm Really Concerned
”
face.
“
And,
”
I
continued,
“I'm scared. The things I've
been seeing are really starting to freak me out. I
can
’
t control when it happens.
I
’
ve even been in my car a couple times
when its happened. I think I
’
m losing my
mind.
”
“
In your car? You could have
gotten hurt, or killed! You need to see someone about this. Like a
professional.
”
I was about to get defensive but she cut me off.
“
I don
’t
think you
’
re crazy. Maybe
you
’
re stressed and this is your
body
’
s response to the stress, the dreams.
Combine that with your lack of sleep which can really mess with
you, and it just compounds the problem. You have to figure out a
way to stop the cycle. Seriously, you
’
re
going to kill yourself if you keep this up.
”
“
They
’re
not stress dreams
…”
“
How do you know? What have you
been dreaming about?
”
I don't know
was the first thought in my head when she asked this. Dreams,
dreams... What was I dreaming about? Was I even having
dreams?
I couldn't remember what I had even come here for.
What did I think would happen? That she was going to magically make
things better?
Make
what
better?
I don't know.
What was I even telling her about?
“
Can we go to my house instead?
This street weirds me out. There's no light outside and
it
’s,
”
I looked
for the clock. There was one hanging in view in the kitchen. The
clock read 2:13 P.M.
“
And its after two o'
clock. Come on, that just isn't right.
”
I
smiled at her and added,
“
And besides, I'm
not used to such high class,
”
I said as I
looked around her impressively sized and decorated
house.
She laughed, such a beautiful sound.
“
At least you
’
ve still got your sarcasm. Fine,
but when we get there will you tell me what's going on? You worry
me, you know that?
”
I nodded in agreement,
“
I'll tell you everything when we get
there.
”
Everything. That's funny. Even with a whole day I
don't think I'd even be able to scratch the surface of all the
things I wanted to talk to her about.
“
Good. We
’ll figure it out. If you can
’
t find
a way to stop for yourself, at least do it for me.
”
D
é
j
à
vu
again. Why did that sound so familiar?
She was a goddess, stunning to look at. I could
barely concentrate on driving. I almost wished the drive between
our houses was longer just so that I could stay here next to her a
bit more. We didn't talk the whole way, she just kept giving me
these quick little side glances and I could see the worry on her
expression. She was trying to analyze everything she had heard,
process it and come up with a solution.
I parked the car in the driveway and got out and she
followed me to the door. I must have forgotten to lock it because
the door was open.
“
It
’s a
little chilly in here,
”
she said as she
walked in.
“
Yeah I know, there's been
something weird going on with the air conditioner,
”
I replied. I walked down the hall and looked at
the thermostat. It read 75 degrees.
Son of a bitch. I need to get that thing fixed.
She had already sat down on the couch and I
followed, knowing I was going to have to start explaining. No more
stall tactics.
“
So, what's really going on? You
promised you
’d tell me everything, what
you
’
re dreaming of.
”
Right on cue.
“
I don't really know,
there
’s been so many of them,
it
’
s hard to pick just one.
”
That was vague enough.
“
Well pick one of them at least. I
know you can remember at least
one
. Just tell me. You know I'm here
because I want to listen and help you, but you always do this where
you try and stall and dance around the subject. How am I supposed
to help if you don't tell me?
”
The concern was genuine in her voice and it
comforted me. I was just about to start when there was a knock at
the door.
“
I'll get it,
”
she said already standing up.
“Why
is someone knocking on your door this late?
”
she asked as she headed towards the door.
I just wanted to know why
she
was answering
my
door.
Wait, this
late
? It was just after two o'
clock. I looked towards the clock. Big hand is on the eight, little
hand was in between the eleven and the twelve.
Almost nine o' clock?
“
Hey! Come on in!
”
I looked to the door as she invited in an older man.
Receding hairline, thick-rimmed glasses and a very noticeable gap
in between his two front teeth as he smiled at me.
He held out his hand for me to shake as he walked
towards me.
“
Charles Green, nice to finally
meet you,
”
he said in between a large
toothy smile. I could have shown a light in between his two front
teeth.
I held my hand out and shook his. Something was
obviously wrong with this whole situation. She came back to the
couch and sat down right next me, Charles on the other side of
her.
“
We were just about to start
talking about you,
”
she said casually,
looking from me to him.
“
Oh nothing bad I hope,
”
chuckling as he said it.
She laughed with him and looked back to me.
“
Well, what were you going to
say?
”
she asked, looking me in the eye as
she said so.
“
Oops, hang on a second. I left
something in my car,
”
Charles said
standing back up and walking to my door,
“hold that thought!
”
He shut the door behind him and I looked at her in
pure confusion.
“
What's he doing here?
”
“
Well, you wanted to know about
him so I invited him over.
”
The door opened up before I had a chance to ask her
what the hell was going on.
“
I found what I was looking
for!
”
He announced, holding a baseball bat
over his shoulder with one hand, in his other, several feet of
chain.
I stood
up
, startled, and backed away, tripping
over the coffee table. She didn't even have a chance to scream as
he butted her in the forehead with the end of the bat, knocking her
backwards over the coffee table and landing at my feet. Blood
seeped from a knot, already forming, just above her right
eye.
He smiled as he walked towards me, raising the bat
above his head. Gone was the meek looking old man. The figure in
front of me was the very definition of sinister.
“
Now pay attention!
”
He swung the bat down with one arm, connecting
squarely on the top of my head.
I fell to a heap immediately. The room spun and my
ears rang. I saw doubles of him bending over and binding her feet
with chains.
“
No,
”
I
murmured, clawing out for his legs but missing by a mile. The words
sounded fuzzy as they left my lips. My head throbbed, pulsing in
pain and my thoughts were jumbled. He just flashed his toothy
smile.
After he finished binding her legs
up, he
stood
and
dragg
ed her lifeless body away
from me by the other end of the chain.
“
Now you just sit here like a good
boy while we have a nice little chat.
”
The words hit my ears through a haze and didn't
register for a second. He dragged her behind the sofa and down the
halls towards my room.
“
Don't worry, I'll take better
care of her than you did,
”
he spat,
slamming my bed room door
shut.
It was late. I wasn't sure quite what time, maybe
eight or nine o' clock. I had just got home and I felt drained,
exhausted to the point of collapsing. Tear stains streaked my
face.
I needed
…
I actually needed
…
A
friend. A companion.
Someone
. I needed someone. Just a
human connection, a real one, just for a little while.
What was I doing here?
I stood at my front
door
, suddenly not remembering why I was
outside in the first place. A chill in the air nipped at me and I
didn
’
t have a jacket.
Keys, I needed my keys. I dug
around my pant pockets until I found my keys and unlocked the
door,
stagger
ing past the entryway and
slumping over my sofa, legs hanging off the edge of the arm
rest.
The adrenaline was wearing off and
I felt my body crashing. I've never felt more exhausted in my life.
I just lay there on the couch
for
a while, not sure for how
long. My muscles ached and screamed at me and I was panting, out of
breath for some reason. I just stared at the patterns on my sofa
until the morphed and molded into shapes, faces and
…
Other things.
I rolled my face over towards the coffee table. It
was cluttered with magazines, a plate with a few crumbs on it and a
red cup were on the left corner. I should probably take those to
the sink and wash them. I wasn't sure how long they had been
there.
Forcing myself to stand, I bent
over and picked up the plate and cup and walked into the kitchen,
but when I got there, I couldn
’
t remember
why.
Oh yeah, sink.
I sat them both in the sink, noticing the other
dishes that had piled up on the counter. I should probably wash
those too. I put the plug in the drain, opened the cabinet under
the sink to grab the dish soap and poured some into the sink.
I watched the water fill up the sink, suds foaming
up so that I couldn't see through them. I picked up the sponge from
behind the faucet and dunked it, squeezing and releasing, letting
it fill up with soapy water.
The first dish I grabbed was a
bowl with little bits of cereal stuck to the rim. I didn't remember
eating cereal. Not
this
week
at
least.
Gross.
I turned the faucet off and dipped the bowl under
the water. It was warm and felt good after being outside in the
cold. You have to enjoy the simple things like the feeling of warm
water on a cold night. I should take a shower after I'm done, that
would hit the spot. I scraped the cereal out of the bowl with the
sponge and finished washing it. I grabbed a towel off of the oven
handle behind me and dried the dish and placed it into the cabinet
by the pantry.
And the next one is... Dinner plate, remnants of
what looked like left over Chinese food. Wonderful. Into the soapy
water it went. I had to work to get the dried up chow-mien unglued
from the plate.
I cleaned and dried each plate, cup, spoon, fork,
knife and pan that was on the counter and reached into the sudsy
water, looking for the plate and red cup I had first set in the
sink. I could feel little bits of food and noodles at the bottom,
squishing under my fingers.
I have a pretty strong stomach but
the thought of old food and feeling
my fingers
squish it made me gag a
little. I felt around a little more and found the plate. This one
was easy at least, there had only been crumbs on it. Must have been
a sandwich or toast or something but I didn't remember eating those
either. I dried it and placed it in its respective cabinet drawer
nearest the refrigerator. Just the cup and then I could shower. I
stuck my hand back into the soapy water with the little bits of
food debris floating around in it. Sickening.