When We All Fall Asleep

Chapter 3 - The Visit

My brother was beside my bed, shaking me desperately. I couldn't figure out if he wanted me to wake up or if he wanted to make me vomit. My head was dizzy, it hurt, I was never like this. I've never slept so bad in my entire life. That knife... horrible things were starting to happen in my paralysis, I never had a nightmare so deep. I never got to touch an object, I never got to feel or speak, scream, whatever it was while I was paralyzed in my bed. Things were starting to get worse, I just didn't know why.

So my brother managed to wake me up and I thank God for that. I could have died in the middle of my dream, I could have died without being able to say anything, I could have died drowning in my own blood. And that knife? Where did she come from? Who was talking to me during my dream? The Refectory Woman, perhaps? But I didn't see her, which makes me more confused.

My head continued to hurt.

"Billie, how are you?" asked my brother. I could see he was in front of me, but I was so dizzy my vision was totally blurred. I could feel my sweat running down my forehead, but I couldn't wipe it away because he was holding me tightly in his arms as he breathed as heavily as he could. He was more desperate than me.

"Mike?" I managed to say, managing to get one of my shaking hands to his face. "Please help me, Mike..." My voice was starting to crack, my head felt like it was going to explode.

He stopped for a long time, now he was staring at me from my chin to the last hair on my head. He seemed to be thinking about something, reasoning like he had never reasoned.

"Enough!" he said at last. "I'm taking you to Dr. Hahn's clinic to talk to Mom."

"No, please, Mike...I don't want to worry her."

"But you've been worrying me too much, Billie! This cannot go on like this! You have to start treating your paralysis, you have to learn to control yourself!"

"I can not!" I yelled, but actually my voice came out in a whisper. Was I losing her now too? "Do you think I like going to bed knowing I can have this shit every night? Do you think I'm comfortable with that, Mike? Do you really think I never tried to treat this thing?"

He was silent, it was clear in his face that he had nothing to say. He swallowed and then let go of my arms. He sat on my bed, crossing his fingers and keeping his head down. I leaned over and leaned against the headboard and left my pillow more upright so I could support my back on it.

We didn't say anything for a while until I opened my mouth.

"I just wanted to know why they're more frequent now. And much deeper."

The expression on his face was no longer worried or sad, it shifted to thoughtful. Then he lifted his head and looked at me.

"Have your nightmares gotten more constant since Mom went to the clinic?"

He seemed to have read my mind. He must really notice me every day. Maybe he really cares about me and I never stopped to notice. At that moment, a billion things flew through my head, like thoughts from the past. Did I ever stop to ask him if he was okay at any point? Did I ever stop to see if he needed help? When I saw that his friends weren't caring about him anymore, did I go stay close to him? The answer to all of these was a big NO nailed in my mind. No no and no.

"Yes," I replied, sighing. I finally managed to wipe the sweat off my forehead, then I looked down at my hands and they were both wet with sweat. I also noticed that I managed to stop shivering, what a wonderful feeling.

He was silent again, then slapped his hands on his thighs and got up from my bed.

"Where you go?" I asked, this time really interested in what he was doing.