I was twelve almost thirteen when it began. I'd wake up terrified and out of breath but I'd never remember what I dreamt about, not fully anyway mostly bits and pieces but never enough to truly recall. This went on for weeks and my parents would always dismiss them as nightmares caused by violence on television but even after I was banned from the tube the dreams would still occur and it wasn't TV to blame anymore, it was comic books. Each issue was sold or given away to kids on the block yet I'd still wake up screaming every night. My parents were getting annoyed at that point and the night terrors kept getting worse as I got older. At first I'd wake up sitting up in my bed or standing on top of it then at fourteen I started sleepwalking and ended up in the strangest places. I'd awake in the kitchen or my parent's bedroom. Once I ended up down the street for Christ's sakes! I became afraid of going to bed because of what might happen. My dad even tried locking my bedroom door from the outside but unfortunately resulted in a broken collarbone. It would bother me that I couldn't remember what the hell had made me so scared but when I actually started to recall my nightmares I really wished I hadn't. Even after I'd "wake up" and my eyes are open, I'd still see images from the dreams but I am unable to move or speak. Once the paralysis wore off, I'd search my room up and down for this "evil thing" or it would mean my death and the death of everyone I loved. When I would tell my parents about evil presences in my room and flying orbs that would cut off my air all while my eyes were open, they would look at me as if I was some basket case that needed to be committed. Every time I'd take longer and longer to convince myself that what I was seeing and feeling wasn't real and it would only make it worse if my parent's told me that it was all a dream while I was having an "episode". They didn't know what to do with me anymore, but something strange happened when a boy named Ryan Atwood entered our lives... the night terrors stopped.
Five Months Ago...
It was a Friday night and we just wanted to have a little fun. It was nearly ten when me, Summer, Marissa, and Ryan piled into the Range Rover, heading over to Holly's dad's beach house. Ryan drove while Summer and I fooled around in the backseat.
"Ow, Cohen, you're on my hair." Summer griped.
"Sorry"
The car unfortunately stopped at our destination and we all climbed out. The place was rather full so the four of us formed a human chain. Each couple held hands and the two girls took each others.
Making our way toward the keg, we met up with Luke and before I knew it, I had already consumed three beers.
"Hey, slow down..." Ryan had said with a smirk on his face.
Before I could reply, Luke had started a "chug" chant and I, of course, went along with it. I must have downed eight more cups before Ryan had pulled me back but I wanted to look cool in front of everyone not some pussy who couldn't handle his alcohol.
"Fuck off!" I spat and then shoved him hard.
"Don't be an ass." Said Summer with narrowed eyes.
Now I was pissed and drunk and I just wanted to go home or just away from them.
"Gimme the fucking keys..." I demand with a slur but by the look on Ryan's face it was clear that I wasn't getting them.
"Fffine... I'll walk."
With my head held high I leave and from what I remember I started off good but ended up smacking my head on a very dangerous birdfeeder. Shouting, I yank the feeder off the tree and send it into the ground. It shatters and at the time, I thought it was the funniest thing ever but by the look on everyone's face... more importantly Summer's face, it wasn't funny at all.
"You better pay for that, asshole" Holly points out as I walk away in a huff.
"I should go get him." Ryan tells Marissa before following me down the beach.
I had no idea why I was even mad. I pushed Ryan, just left Summer there after I completely humiliated her and myself.
Holly was right... I was an asshole.
Somehow I find myself up to my knees in freezing cold water, then in what felt like a second it's up to my waist and the current is pulling me in. I try to fight but I didn't even know which direction land was.
"Seth!" I hear Ryan call and he grabs my arm and walks me out.
Shivering, I let myself collapse into the wet sand.
"You okay?" He asks, kneeling down in front of me.
"I'm an asshole."
He sighs and helps me onto my feet.
"I'm an asshole, Ryan." I tell him again.
"It's okay. Let's just go home."
I must have passed out then because that was the last thing I remember from the party.
That night I had a dream. There was a spider under my skin and my mother had ordered me to cut open my leg with a butter knife, not a butcher knife or any other kind of knife that might cut better... I had to cut through my flesh with a butter knife. It was painful and bloody but my mother had explained to me that it was the only way.
Gasping, I "awoke" in our kitchen and noted that all the drawers around me had been yanked out and the utensils within them were surrounding me. I felt the presence and my eyes dart up only to find my parents on the other side of the counter. They both tried to calm me down, tried convince me that everything was okay but I didn't trust them... I didn't even think it was really them. My heart pounded in my chest I thought, "They're going to kill me."
The mom impersonator took a step toward me but I wouldn't give up without a fight.
Bending over, I snatched a knife off the floor and showed it to them, showed them that I would use it if they didn't leave me and my family alone.
"Get away from me!!" I screamed but the monsters continued to reach out for me.
"Everything is okay, honey" The fake Mom soothes but I wasn't taking the bait and as she spoke softly to me, "dad" grabbed for my legs from the side.
Twirling, I lash out and cut him. His wounds bleed gold and his head spins. I try to scream but nothing comes out.
God, help me. I can't breathe! I can't breathe!
With knife still in hand, I dart out of the kitchen and head for the back door to get Ryan but I find that there's no door... just an endless wall. Using my hands and the knife, I try cutting out an opening but every time I make any progress, it mends back together. Sobbing, I start running down the hall and escape into the bathroom, where I locked the door. Spiders started to appear within the room and then the floor became black with them, the walls; the whole bathroom filled with spiders. I told myself it wasn't real and rushed over to the sink where I splashed water onto my face and to my surprise they were gone.
Was I really awake?
The house was quiet so I took an incredible risk and opened the door. Tiptoeing out of the bathroom, I found Ryan, my mother and father, staring at me like they had seen a ghost.
"Seth, honey, can you hear me?" Mom asked softly.
They all looked so horrified, afraid of me. I took a step forward and they took a step back. Ryan had actually placed himself in front of mom... protecting her from me... her own son.
"Put the knife down, son." Dad ordered.
Gasping slightly, I hadn't even realized I still had it or even had it to begin with. I dropped it quickly then rapped my arms around myself.
"Everything's okay." Mom eased.
Everything's okay? Everything's okay?! Everything is not okay! I hurt my father. My mother was shaking. Ryan had looked like he didn't know who I was anymore.
After that episode an intense depression set in.
How can you live a life when you can't tell the difference between asleep and awake anymore?
That morning I took a razor to my wrist.
