Where The Darkness Hides

By Aaron Avari

Kyle has always been alone, orphaned as a child he grew up in a harsh and lonely world. He has done his best to find his footing in the world now he fears that he may be on the verge of a psychotic break.  Kyle has been plagued by the same nightmare every night for more than a year; he is desperate to find answers. Losing touch with reality

• Language: English
• Publisher: KAE Marketing DBA Twisted KAE
• Release date: Jun 24, 2017
• ISBN: 9781732029507

Book preview

Kyle

Thump! I feel as if I’ve been dropped on the bed from the ceiling. Opening my eyes, I still feel exhausted. How long have I been asleep? Sitting up, I try rubbing the sleep away from my eyes and focus; through the doorway, I see what looks like the figure of a man. His silhouette looks huge! Bigger than anyone I know. Quickly, I switch on my lamp; but it’s just a coat hanging on the door. I’m in a cold sweat; I’m still groggy.

Rubbing my eyes again, I try to wipe away the remaining thoughts of this nightmare. I can smell the earthy scent from the cave, and the sulfur from the dragon’s breath still lingers in the air. My alarm is going off; it sounds like a dying cat, and it’s one of the most annoying noises I have ever heard. I hit it trying to make it stop, and knock it from the nightstand onto the floor. Ugh, the same dream again…I have been having the same dream every night for over a year. What does it mean? Coughing, I feel like I am choking from the smell of smoke.

Every night, the nightmare feels more and more real. I reach for the glass of water next to where the alarm clock was. My fingers are clumsy; I knock the glass off the table, and it falls to the floor. The glass explodes on impact. I lie back down, staring at the ceiling. Inhaling deeply, my mind races. It is the same thing, over and over. I’m not sure how much longer I can go on like this. Each time, I am a little further into the cave, closer to the dragon. The dreams are getting longer. Sighing, I don’t understand what Draco et Lupus, means. The dragon repeats that same phrase in every dream. My eyes feel heavy; I’m still tired, even though I slept all night.

I need to get up, I say out loud as I drag myself out of bed, hoping that hearing the words will make me move. I still feel nauseous from the smell of sulfur. Fumbling around in the half lit room, I accidentally step on the glass I knocked off the nightstand, and I slip in the water.

Damn it! I whisper under my breath, cringing in pain as I walk to the bathroom to get the first aid kit.

I reach up to turn on the light, and for a split second I think I see someone standing behind me. I whip around quickly, but there’s no one there. I rub my eyes again. I must not be fully awake yet.

I’m imagining things, I tell myself, still groggy from the dream. The light from the bathroom creates a pattern on the floor of my bloody footsteps leading from the bed. There is a lot of blood; I wonder to myself how deep is this cut? I tend to the wound as best I can, but I may need stitches. Finding my pants, I try to dress as quickly as possible.

Stumbling down the stairs, still in a daze, pants half on, and trying not to put any pressure on my foot, I miss a step and hit the floor hard. I rest on my face, and inhale deeply before sighing deeply. I think I’m losing it. I lie there for a while, trying to not concentrate on the pain and attempting to clear my head before picking myself up from the floor. I can barely breathe; every inch of the loft smells like smoke.

I make my way to the kitchen. My stomach is growling. When was the last time I ate? I can’t remember. Lately, I haven’t had much of an appetite. The fridge is empty; I haven’t been shopping in weeks. I’m losing track of time; the days and nights have begun to blend together.

If I get any rest at all, it is from pure exhaustion, and every time I sleep it’s the dream. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I have been everywhere I can think of, trying to figure out what the dream could mean. I’ve tried doctors, psychics, hypnotists, and even mediums, each time hoping for an explanation, and each time being disappointed. None of them have been able to give me a definite answer, only opinions and the occasional pill. My doctor thinks I’m crazy, and I’m starting to agree.  

I’ve been seeing a psychologist. When I started seeing her, my primary doctor told me she was the best in the field of oneirology. I can only hope if she can’t give me answers then she’ll at least be able to help me stop having these dreams.

I need to eat something, but my throat feels like it’s closing. I try to choke down a stale banana nut muffin I found in the cabinet. Still nauseous, I can’t eat. I can’t think in here. Maybe I need some fresh air!

I hurry out the door; the sun blinds me. What time is it? Have I been asleep half the day? I look at my phone; it’s already 10:30 a.m. I’m late for my appointment! I was supposed to be there already. I run down the stairs and onto the sidewalk.

Turning to head for the train station and trying not to bump into people who are walking past, I catch the gaze of a man standing in the middle of crowd. He is motionless, staring in my direction. He looks unkempt, almost wild and animal-like, with bushy hair and disheveled clothes. He is a little way away from me, but I can see every detail of his face. A scar starts at his hairline and trails all way down the left side of his face. His left eye and the left side of his mouth are also scarred. He is across the street in the crowd, but I feel like he is right in front of me. I can feel his breath warm and heavy on my face. His gaze is unyielding. I’m not sure why, but his eyes remind me of my dream.

I’m already late; I don’t take any more time to ponder why he’s staring at me; there are some weird people in this city. I turn the corner and hurry to the train station.

As I board the crowded train, I’m pressed near the door trying my best not to be pushed out of the door as it closes. I notice a man is staring at me from the platform. Wait, is that the same guy? It is! It’s him, standing motionless in the middle of the crowd, staring at me. As others walk by, no one seems to notice him. Did he follow me? I can see his mouth moving; I can’t make out what he’s saying. The door closes, and the train starts to pull away from the station. People walk past, hurrying about their day, and he vanishes into the crowd. Puzzled, I try to look up and down the platform, but he’s nowhere in sight. I tell myself I’m imagining things! Maybe I am making too much out of this. I must be losing it!

The Dream

I walk into the psychologist’s office. Her assistant is talking on the phone; her voice is shrill and annoying. I tap on the desk to get her attention; she looks up momentarily giving me a halfhearted smile and holding up her bony finger, looking back down before I can say anything. I tell her my name even though I’m sure she is not listening.

She says, You’re late. Without looking up again, she continues her phone conversation rustling through papers as she talks. I’m not sure if she’s talking to me, but then she uses the same bony finger to point to an empty chair in the lobby. The skin on her hand looks paper-thin. I can see the blue veins running from her hand into her arm and disappearing under her shirtsleeve.

Are you going to sit down? she asks, momentarily looking up from her conversation. I’m surprised she notices me still standing there. I walk over to the chair thinking to myself, Dr. West must spend very little on trying to make her patients comfortable while they wait. The chairs are hard plastic, and the magazines are all a few years old. She could at least spring for a few cushions.

Sitting in this frustratingly hot little room in this uncomfortable chair is making me feel more anxious than I was when I came in. I can hear the second hand on the clock ticking on the wall above my head; it seems like the time between each tick is stretching. The sound of the ticking is like listening to water dripping from a faucet. Tick, tick, tick.

I can still hear Dr. West’s assistant on the phone. Her voice seems louder now than when I was standing in front of her. I close my eyes to try and block out the noise. I can’t keep my eyes closed for long; I am so tired, and I don’t want to fall asleep again. Readjusting myself on this horrible little chair, I look