Chapter 7

The Memories That Hurt

Damn it… he was back in it again, Darby knew.

He hadn't relived this for what had to be a week or three by now, and now it had come back to haunt him with a vengeance. He was going to experience it all over again, whether he liked it or not, because at this moment, it was impossible for him to snap out of it. Completely powerless against his own subconsciousness, he was forced to sit through all of it until it was over… and when exactly it would end, that was hard to say.

As usual, it began with the darkness. A darkness that completely surrounded him and the same one he had spent nearly nine whole months in. There was not much room for him to move around and he had been drifting around in what could be water, but it hadn't bothered him that much. Hell, not even the darkness had given him any anxiety. It was a safe place, comfortable even. He knew that he was in a place where he would be lovingly protected. And it wasn't like he was living in silence either, for there was a rhythmic thumping noise right above him, which only gave him more comfort. Every now and then, the thumping was accompanied by a soothing, humming tune, feminine and sweet. He was safe. He was loved. And there was someone out there who was going to love him with all their heart as soon as it was time for him to come out.

But the sense of comfort and safety that he had felt for many months felt like a distant memory as of late. It was like something had snuck in here with the intention of causing distress to him, sneaking through the dark with the intention of causing him harm. Something must have gone terribly wrong along the way, deciding only to occur in these final days. At first it hadn't bothered him that much, having started as what felt like a fleshy, moist snake loosely draping around his freshly developed, frail, tiny neck, not tight enough to hurt him in any way. But as the days passed, this strange object began to slowly but surely tighten its grip. Darby could feel his small hands tugging, sometimes even clawing with the tiniest fingernails you could imagine at the 'snake' in an attempt to loosen its grip and make it easier for him to breathe, but to no avail, as his little fingers slipped off and the grip only strengthened. Screaming for help wasn't an option either; aside from producing the occasional little, troubled moans, he was unable from making any other noise while he was in the little amount of space he was in, which felt more unsafe and frightening as time went on. And by the time his final day came rolling around, the fleshy 'snake' had wrapped itself so tightly around his frail neck that it became nearly impossible for him to breathe, no matter how much he tried to claw away this thing that was slowly killing him. His entire body started to feel colder as well, and despite still being so helpless and small, Darby knew that this was because whatever had been around his neck during these past days was literally squeezing the life out of him. And there was nothing he could possibly do to stop it. Here, in this darkness that had once been a safe place to stay in, he had no other choice but let this vicious thing continue killing him, with a sense of powerlessness that would drive anyone, whether they had reached an old age or just getting prepared to live a whole life in this world, to absolute despair.

It was on that final day where he was clinging onto the last small piece of life that was still inside him, that the owner of the voice that had soothed and comforted him during the time he was in here let out a panicked shriek. The next thing Darby knew, the water he had been drifting in was promptly drained, followed by more shrieks, along with heavy panting and long wails of agony. This went on for a few minutes, which surely must have felt like an eternity to whoever had been carrying Darby, but after a while, something was changing. A light pierced through the darkness he had been living in, but he had grown too weak to be truly frightened by it. The bright light began to grow bigger and bigger, and while this was going on, the screaming didn't stop for one second, and neither did the intensely suffocating feeling that had kept him in its grip, which by now had begun to devour the last bit of life that was inside of him. This must be death, Darby thought to himself; despite the fact that he had only been alive in this place for nine months, it seemed like he somehow had already understood the concept of death, or at least some of it. There was such little life in him left, there was no way he was going to live much longer, he must definitely be slipping into death. This was it. He had no other choice but to accept it, as small and helpless as he was. And so, before the bright light could fully drive the darkness away, Darby had closed his eyes, surrendering himself to the suffocating feeling that had kept him in its grip for so long.

It all happened so quickly. Followed by a loud, horrified gasp that surely didn't come out of him, something had taken a hold, a much stronger hold than Darby had been able to, on the fleshy rope that had been so keen on squeezing the life out of him for days and pulled it from his neck. If he had happened to remain conscious at that very moment, Darby would have instantly breathed in the much-needed air, but he had drifted off so far already, that he didn't even react to this. Whoever had rescued him must have noticed this, because almost immediately after freeing him from the cord that was supposed to keep him alive, something warm was placed over his small nose and mouth, which pumped little puffs of air into him, each one followed after the one after one single second. With every little breath that flowed through him, Darby was pulled further out of the suffocating sensation, back into consciousness. That's when the light illuminated everything… and welcomed him into the world.

He was barely able to comprehend what had just happened to him, but he knew he was alive, and so, strengthened enough by the breaths that had saved him, Darby Samuel Allin did what every other baby would do after birth and let out his very first cry as loud as he could.

'Oh God… oh thank God…'

Was this her? The owner of the voice who had comforted him, made him feel safe all this time? While he continued to cry, little Darby opened his eyes, the new world around him being a bit of a blur at first, but he managed to adjust fairly quick. Of course, he couldn't recognize him surroundings at first, but as it would later turn out, he had been brought into this world on the kitchen floor of a trailer home somewhere in Washington, on a location where it would take half an hour at most to get to the closest hospital. And that's when he saw her face above him. A face of a young woman who couldn't possibly be older than nineteen years old that expressed nothing else but sheer relief and possessed features that Darby would eventually adopt when he would grow up, from the shape of her nose to the shade of blue-grey in her widened, teary eyes; hell, she too had platinum blonde hair, which had grown close to her shoulders.

It was also the face of the woman who he would love so damn much, no matter how old he would become.

'You're alive…' Heather Allin whispered. 'It's okay, you're safe now… My baby… oh God, my baby…'

Upon hearing the soothing tone in her voice, little Darby's crying was almost instantly reduced to reassured cooing. The woman who was none other than his mother gently picked him up to pull him in for a comforting, loving hug that any child would crave for, but just when Darby could feel himself being lifted off the cold, hard, bloodied kitchen floor, the natural instinct to blink his eyes kicked in, which he of course gave into. One single time.

Sure, it was the face of the same woman he was looking at after that one sole blink, but it clearly had gotten some changes to it. Changes that were nothing short of absolutely horrific to look at. Over what had to be eight passed years, Heather's face had clearly somewhat age, but looked pretty youthful nonetheless. It was on that very same moment that Darby knew that he had aged along with her, having now grown into a young boy, and from what he could easily tell, he was right now tucked into his very own bed. No, it wasn't because of the aging that Heather's face had become such a terrifying sight; it was because of the massive, gaping hole, only covered by a few strands of bloodied hair, that partially exposed what was inside of her skull, causing thick streams of blood to stain her face. It was a little hard to see, but the few patches of skin that hadn't been covered with blood were completely void of a healthy shade, appearing deadly pale. Tears mixed with the crimson on her cheeks as Heather Allin's ghost wept with sorrow, hovering above as she looked down to her beloved son.

'Darby, I'm so sorry…' she sobbed. 'I'm not able to come home, sweetheart. Ever again. But I need to see you before I go, I have to. I love you, baby… Please be a good boy. Be kind to others, I know you can.' Just then, she reached out with one of her hands, where small shards of glass had dug into her skin, and gently touched her son's left cheek, even slowly moving her bloodied thumb up and down in another show of genuine, motherly affection, all while she continued to sob. In an attempt to comfort the child she had loved so much throughout her life, Heather managed to briefly stop sobbing to curl her mouth into a small smile.

'Goodbye…'

Immediately after he heard his mother saying this, Darby Allin snapped out of the nightmare and was brought back to reality, sitting up with wide eyes, a body drenched in sweat and a loud gasp escaping from his mouth.

His childhood bedroom, the sheets of his bed, the ghost of his mother; they were all gone, replaced with the walls of the back of his van. Of course, Cora wasn't lying next to him on his mattress; she was vast asleep on the passenger's seat, using her jacket as a blanket. After a short moment of letting his surroundings sink into him, Darby closed his eyes, let out a sigh and hunched forward, supporting his head with his hands.

'Fuck…' he groaned.

A dream… it was all a goddamn dream. The same dream he had many times before, and definitely wouldn't be the last time he would have. Darby had no idea how long he must have been sleeping, but that dream sure as hell had felt like an eternity to him. His heart was beating so fast in his chest that he was almost convinced that it had been replaced by a jackhammer and his mouth and throat felt like they hadn't had water for days. He slowly breathed out through his nose in an attempt to calm himself down, which unfortunately didn't help too much. Sure, he felt his heart rate slightly going down, but it didn't do anything for the storm that was going on his head right now. There was no way in hell he could lay his head down now and drift off back to sleep again in a matter of minutes. Darby knew already that he was going to spend the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, because that had happened many times before, all because of memories he preferred not to remember, manifesting themselves as one massive nightmare.

He had to get out, he knew. He had to get out to clear his head.

And Darby knew exactly how to do that, since it did actually help him out before. Despite the darkness in the van, the blonde ghost hunter knew precisely where his treasured skateboard was. It didn't take long for his fingers to brush against the rough material of the upper side of the board, and so he immediately grabbed it. Trying his hardest not to wake up his temporary traveling companion, Darby crawled towards the back doors of the van and managed to slip out undetected.

As it would quickly turn out, Darby's van had been the only vehicle that had been parked on the parking lot of the only supermarket that could be found in Green Pines (judging by the sign that had been placed near the store's entrance, there was quite some discount on supposedly authentic Swedish meatballs, various brands of chips and beans this week and this week alone). Darby remembered thinking they weren't going to be a bother to anyone if they would stay here for the night, seeing how the parking lot was completely empty when they spotted it in the distance. Luckily for Darby, this place was properly illuminated by various lampposts and the railings that divided some of the parking spots looked like they would be perfect to perform some tricks on.

It unfortunately did go unnoticed by the blonde ghost hunter, but some of the lampposts were adorned by one single poster, all with the same photograph of a woman in her early thirties with long, sandy blonde hair tied in a low ponytail and visibly pregnant on it; according to the posters, she hailed from the nearby town of Wattson, had been missing since last week and people were urged to immediately contact the police department if they happened to catch a glimpse of her.

The skateboard was placed on the ground. Darby placed one foot on the wood and used the other to push himself forward. He rolled forward with a rather slow speed, which he slightly increased by pushing forward once again, and this time he appeared to go fast enough for one simple trick. Darby jumped upwards and used his feet to make the skateboard flip sideways; it was a trick he had done many times before and would become rather easy as soon as you'd get the hang of it. As soon as the board's worn, white wheels touched the concrete, Darby perfectly landed his feet on top of the board. He once again increased his speed and rolled right towards on of the railings. As soon as he got close enough to it, he jumped up and slid across the iron with the skateboard still under his feet, followed by another perfect landing. He repeated these two tricks for a few more minutes, since there wasn't anything else around him that he could use to pull off some more tricks. And usually this amount of time would be enough for him to clear his head enough to go back into the van to catch some more sleep, but this time, for some godforsaken reason, the storm inside Darby's head wouldn't even ease in the slightest, no matter how many times he flipped or slid his skateboard. He could feel the storm taking the shape of nothing but anger, anger he knew where it was coming from. It was because of the immense hurt those memories were causing him, no matter how many years had passed; memories that he could try as much as he want not to think too much about, but in the end, they would always sneak up on him in his sleep, whether he liked it or not. As each second passed, he felt more anger welling up, feeling himself unable to snap out of it.

This was all because of the one person in his life who he had lost way too soon. All because of a part of him that had died along with her. And all because of the shit that followed afterwards.

It was the sound of one of the van's doors opening that made him briefly look up. At this point, he was not too far away from the vehicle, and the sight did absolutely nothing to ease the turmoil. Great, just what he fucking needed. Apparently, the constant clacking of the wheels and the grinding of the wood had been loud enough to wake up Cora, who had decided to see what could have been making those noises. Despite still being a bit drowsy, the young woman couldn't help but be mildly confused at the sight.

'Darby, what are you doing?' she asked. 'It's three AM, why on Earth are you skateboarding? What's going o-'

'Leave me alone!' the blonde ghost hunter loudly snapped at her.

His traveling companion instantly fell quiet, visibly stunned. But nonetheless, she decided to do just that and got back inside.