Her Darkest Dreams

Chapter One

Dedication:

For those who feel trapped by their darkness, just know that there is a Light that wants to save you.

''The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.'' John 1:5

CHAPTER ONE:

Ever since the incident before the summer, something has been following me.

It starts as a quiet presence to the point where I almost don't notice it, resembling the spider that seems to spawn in the corner above your bed and then when you finally look up, your heart drops. You start to think to yourself, how did I not notice it before? I'm in this room almost every single day, glancing at the exact same spot every time, yet there it is. An ugly, deep and ruinous crack.

At first, it started in my bedroom, then made its way to the kitchen, then to the shop near my house, and now it's here in front of me again. And when I try to look away, I'm pulled in by fragments of images that cross my mind continually. Memories of broken glass, blood and agonising screams. Then in the midst of all the chaos are his dark eyes; too dark to make out the colour but not dark enough to not sense their familiarity.

I shake my head, wanting to escape the anxious pit that the image has caused to loom in my chest. That doesn't work. So I retreat to glaring at my dirty, white tennis shoes that are shuffling involuntarily above the carpeted floor. I do this often, especially when my eyes refuse to meet her burning gaze. It's also something my mind probably thinks is the best way to ease the sickly pit that has now moved on from my chest to my stomach, but unfortunately, it just invites more snippets of his deep eyes.

I swallow hard and slowly lift my eyes to scan the room, with the hope that it will distract my mind. It's quite small but in a comfy way; its slanted ceiling informs me that this used to be an attic, as well as the random door leading to an unused space. The sunlight peeks through from the window above the coffee table separating us, and hits the skin above my knitted, tense eyebrows. The faux plant glistens in the sun's glare.

This setup feels so annoyingly typical, I think.

''Hope?''

Her voice startles me and my eyes snap to meet Rose's, my friend's. I shift once more and tighten my folded arms. Her eyes are slightly squinted as she attempts to calculate me, a pitiful attempt to know me. I find it obscure because I don't even know me.

''Would you like me to repeat the question?'' she asks with a sympathetic smile.

''Huh? I—um, I heard you. I just don't... I don't know how to answer that, I'm sorry,'' I ramble across my words. It's always been a struggle to form my racing thoughts into a comprehensible sentence.

''There's no rush here, Hope. This is your first time so I already know how uncomfortable you may feel.''

''I find it hard to even remember where I leave my house keys, let alone the last time I genuinely felt happy, so no pressure,'' she adds with another smile. I acknowledge her attempt to help me relax but because I have, the small progress built falls rapidly and I feel my chest tighten once again. I scan through my thoughts and try to think of a witty response, but moments pass, and I become too tense to utter another sentence. Instead, a miserable chuckle flees from my lips, forcing a ghostly smile to appear.