Categories > Original > Romance > Undeniable
9. nightmares
He couldn’t remember when the nightmares had started. For all he knew, they could’ve started weeks, months, even years ago. But he knew that they always ended the same way—with her dying, and him powerless to stop it.
It made no sense to him. For one thing, he didn’t even know who this girl was, let alone why he was dreaming of her, so it wasn’t like he could exactly talk to anyone about what was going on. They would think he’d gone completely batshit crazy, and he wouldn’t blame them a bit for thinking it. He thought the same thing every time he woke up from one of the terrifying nightmares.
They were beginning to wear on him. At first, he had been able to shake them off, somewhat, and go about his daily routine. This affected him way more than it should have, and he was completely perplexed as to how and why the nightmares had started. Everything had been going great in his life. He and his best friend were both excelling in their careers; both even receiving numerous accolades for their efforts. He was content, for the most part, and relaxed. Things were looking up.
So why, on nights like the previous one, did he find himself crippled as he slept? The nightmares weren’t just your average ones, either—they were exceptionally vivid. He could smell, touch, even taste. The visions he saw were horrifying—more often than not, the extreme torture he witnessed often ended in death. And the worst part of all? He was forced to watch the entire thing.
He wanted to move, God knows he tried, but his legs were simply frozen. He would scream, thrash about, and growl, but none of it did any good. The dream always ended the same, with him cradling the woman in his arms and howling in pain as he sobbed. And he always woke up in a cold sweat, shaking for a good four or five minutes until his brain awakened fully and reminded him that it was just a dream.
The scene was always the same, as well: a small, cramped dark room with no lighting. The room was empty except for a couple of crates in one corner, and a broken down cot in the middle. Josh shuddered every time a memory hit him. He tried to go about his day and push the nightmare aside, but sometimes he would stumble upon items that would trigger the visions and leave him feeling completely freaked out. Two days before, in the men’s bathroom, he had washed his hands and then dried with a red towel. Red. It was the color that haunted him the most, and, oddly enough, was also a color he loved.
Red..red…blood…no, no, stop it! Stop! Leave her alone!
Even the sight of the color red had him freaking out and feeling the need to go somewhere, anywhere, where he could breathe. He just needed to breathe. Josh felt caged in, and he didn’t like it at all. He didn’t like feeling helpless; he didn’t like feeling controlled. He was not going to let this control him.
Get a grip, man, he scolded himself. This is gonna drive you insane if you let it.
He remembered reading articles about dreams, so he knew that there was definitely a reason that he was dreaming about someone he didn’t even know. He just didn’t know what the reason was, and it ate away at him. He felt this intense, overpowering need to protect, to watch over, but how could he do that when he didn’t even know who he was supposed to be protecting? All he knew was that this person needed him. The unknown person in his dreams needed Josh to keep this horror from occurring. That is, if it hadn’t already. Josh didn’t know if his dreams were set in the past, present, or future. For the first time in a long time, he had no idea what was going on in his own life.
His co-workers knew that something was going on with Josh, and he knew that as well. He wasn’t stupid; he could hear the whispers as he brushed past them in the halls. Drugs. That was the term he heard being thrown around most often. And that was fine; they could think that if they wanted to. If it made them feel better to think that Josh was on drugs, so be it. That was fine by him.
They weren’t having the nightmares. They weren’t waking up in a cold sweat every morning. His co workers were quick to judge, but they didn’t understand how the nightmares wracked Josh. Not even Josh’s best friend, whom he was closer to than anyone else, had any knowledge of what was going on. Like the others, he suspected that something was going on with Josh, but he never approached him about it.
Not that he could do anything, anyway. Josh was hopeful, yet determined, to find out who this mystery person was and why he was dreaming of her.
How, he didn’t know, but he knew one thing for sure: the nightmares had to stop. After that, he planned on finding this person and contacting her, if only to let the person know what was going on, because it was the right thing to do. And then, Josh figured he’d just play it by ear.
He had no idea that in Chicago, the very person he was dreaming of was also dreaming of him. She needed him to come save her.
And he would. Neither of them knew it yet, but Josh would.
He couldn’t remember when the nightmares had started. For all he knew, they could’ve started weeks, months, even years ago. But he knew that they always ended the same way—with her dying, and him powerless to stop it.
It made no sense to him. For one thing, he didn’t even know who this girl was, let alone why he was dreaming of her, so it wasn’t like he could exactly talk to anyone about what was going on. They would think he’d gone completely batshit crazy, and he wouldn’t blame them a bit for thinking it. He thought the same thing every time he woke up from one of the terrifying nightmares.
They were beginning to wear on him. At first, he had been able to shake them off, somewhat, and go about his daily routine. This affected him way more than it should have, and he was completely perplexed as to how and why the nightmares had started. Everything had been going great in his life. He and his best friend were both excelling in their careers; both even receiving numerous accolades for their efforts. He was content, for the most part, and relaxed. Things were looking up.
So why, on nights like the previous one, did he find himself crippled as he slept? The nightmares weren’t just your average ones, either—they were exceptionally vivid. He could smell, touch, even taste. The visions he saw were horrifying—more often than not, the extreme torture he witnessed often ended in death. And the worst part of all? He was forced to watch the entire thing.
He wanted to move, God knows he tried, but his legs were simply frozen. He would scream, thrash about, and growl, but none of it did any good. The dream always ended the same, with him cradling the woman in his arms and howling in pain as he sobbed. And he always woke up in a cold sweat, shaking for a good four or five minutes until his brain awakened fully and reminded him that it was just a dream.
The scene was always the same, as well: a small, cramped dark room with no lighting. The room was empty except for a couple of crates in one corner, and a broken down cot in the middle. Josh shuddered every time a memory hit him. He tried to go about his day and push the nightmare aside, but sometimes he would stumble upon items that would trigger the visions and leave him feeling completely freaked out. Two days before, in the men’s bathroom, he had washed his hands and then dried with a red towel. Red. It was the color that haunted him the most, and, oddly enough, was also a color he loved.
Red..red…blood…no, no, stop it! Stop! Leave her alone!
Even the sight of the color red had him freaking out and feeling the need to go somewhere, anywhere, where he could breathe. He just needed to breathe. Josh felt caged in, and he didn’t like it at all. He didn’t like feeling helpless; he didn’t like feeling controlled. He was not going to let this control him.
Get a grip, man, he scolded himself. This is gonna drive you insane if you let it.
He remembered reading articles about dreams, so he knew that there was definitely a reason that he was dreaming about someone he didn’t even know. He just didn’t know what the reason was, and it ate away at him. He felt this intense, overpowering need to protect, to watch over, but how could he do that when he didn’t even know who he was supposed to be protecting? All he knew was that this person needed him. The unknown person in his dreams needed Josh to keep this horror from occurring. That is, if it hadn’t already. Josh didn’t know if his dreams were set in the past, present, or future. For the first time in a long time, he had no idea what was going on in his own life.
His co-workers knew that something was going on with Josh, and he knew that as well. He wasn’t stupid; he could hear the whispers as he brushed past them in the halls. Drugs. That was the term he heard being thrown around most often. And that was fine; they could think that if they wanted to. If it made them feel better to think that Josh was on drugs, so be it. That was fine by him.
They weren’t having the nightmares. They weren’t waking up in a cold sweat every morning. His co workers were quick to judge, but they didn’t understand how the nightmares wracked Josh. Not even Josh’s best friend, whom he was closer to than anyone else, had any knowledge of what was going on. Like the others, he suspected that something was going on with Josh, but he never approached him about it.
Not that he could do anything, anyway. Josh was hopeful, yet determined, to find out who this mystery person was and why he was dreaming of her.
How, he didn’t know, but he knew one thing for sure: the nightmares had to stop. After that, he planned on finding this person and contacting her, if only to let the person know what was going on, because it was the right thing to do. And then, Josh figured he’d just play it by ear.
He had no idea that in Chicago, the very person he was dreaming of was also dreaming of him. She needed him to come save her.
And he would. Neither of them knew it yet, but Josh would.
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