She Cries in Her Sleep

The brightness pierces her swollen eyelids and causes the tears to turn to faint salty lines that trail down her neck. It’s dark in the room, but the light is relentless in its burning. The dreams consume her most nights, and regardless of how hard she tries to resist the siren call of sleep, it eventually devours her. The dreams are waiting. Pressing down, crushing, and light as air they envelop her. It always starts the same.

She is walking in a field. The wild grass and wheat and weeds, surprisingly soft under her bare feet. Smiling, she pushes a stray hair softly from her forehead, the edges of it tickling her eye.

The breeze is cool but not cold. Warm but not hot. She likes it here. The sweet sound of birds singing their ancestral songs fills her with contentment. I wish I could stay here she thinks. But where is here? A pang in her stomach. Wait. She looks to the east and sees a cloud formation that wasn’t there before. It looks angry. Agitated. Pensive and waiting, for what? She is not sure.

The grass and the wheat and the weeds are not moving anymore; unnaturally still they stand, stagnant and inert, as though they are not alive. Painted creations, cardboard cut-outs; she leans down to touch a stock and it tips over landing noiselessly on the ground. Wait.

There is no sound now. She closes her eyes, straining to hear anything. A note. There’s nothing. She screams.

Nothing.

Sing a song of sadness, sing a song of pain. Sing a song, a lullaby, she’s never seen again.

Why did you come here? The voice demands. You know what happens when you do.

She hears shrieking now. It’s piercing her ears, jarring her brain. Agony or ecstasy, she’s not sure which. Both? Regardless, the sound is relentless and as she raises her hands to shield her ears they brush past her open mouth and she realizes the sound is coming from within her.

Silly girl. You never learn.

She falls to her knees and watches, horrified, as the grass melts away, seeping into the earth. Her feet are covered in the sticky substance. Grass that is not grass. Melted and slick like syrup between her toes. Her hands reach out to steady herself and she realizes the ground in front of her has given way. In its place is darkness. An empty void of nothingness. Losing her balance, she falls.

There’s no sense in fighting it, foolish girl. The beginning and the end will always meet here. It’s beautiful, really.

Landing on her stomach, she loses her breath. Gulping and gasping she tries to coax life back into her lungs. They contract. Smaller and smaller, shrivelling until she’s sure an empty cavern lies where her lungs used to exist.

Accept it. You live here now. The voice drawls. And if you’re really honest with yourself, you’ve never truly left.

Breath flows back into her aching chest and she curls inward, weakly clutching herself. Looking down, she realizes her hands have turned to claws, unwittingly slashing long, streaking marks into her skin. The darkness is complete, and yet she can see the angry red lines appearing, pools of crimson bubbling to the surface.

Mesmerized by the glistening stripes glowing in the abyss that surrounds her, she trails her fingertips across their valleys. Her fingers twisted and gnarled, no longer claws.

Stay.

Standing slowly on shaking legs, she drags her hands along the cool stone walls that tower on either side of her body. In the distance she hears faint laughter. Her pulse quickening, she walks toward the sound. With every step it becomes crisper, more defined. It sounds like a child’s laugh, innocent and carefree. Infectious in its simplicity, the laugh causes a smile to form on her face. It grows and grows and she soon realizes, in keeping with the strangeness of her surroundings, the smile is not natural. It stretches and contorts her face, ever expanding, until she thinks her skin will tear.

You knew.

Reaching a room that seems to house the source of the laughter, she stops. Daring to peek her distorted, grinning face around the corner, she is gripped by confusion. Sitting on the floor in the centre of the room is a man, large and imposing. In his hand he holds a box. It is small and decorated beautifully with colours that remind her of springtime. The box is empty. The man looks up at her and his eyes are hollow. Where his eyeballs should be sit empty sockets and he laughs. With his child’s voice he squeals: Told ya you’d be back. Give me your eyes, you don’t even use them. So selfish.

Panic grips her chest as the feeling of familiarity floods over her. I’ve been here before. She’s not smiling anymore. Looking without eyes into his box, the man resumes his chuckling. Louder and louder the laughter climbs as mania weaves throughout.

The distance between her and the man is shrinking, but she has not moved; nor has he. What began as a 10 foot separation has quickly become 5'. 3'. 1'. Horrified, she reaches out her hands to shield herself from the laughing man, and tries to take a step backwards. A solid rock wall stands where the doorway once existed. Closing her eyes, she screams as the remaining space shrinks away, her body colliding with the presence in the centre.

A high pitched shrill vibrates the space around her and she feels as though it will consume the remainder of her sanity. The man is gone but the sound remains and cracks begin to appear in the rock surrounding her. Trying to stand, she looks down at her feet and discovers they are no longer hers. The body that exists now is the laughing stranger’s; her own is gone. Reaching up to her face her fingertips feel for the soft skin of her eyelids. Instead, they plunge into empty sockets. She opens her mouth to scream and child’s laughter escapes.

Sit in your place now. You’re home. You never left.

Trembling she sits. The room is large again and the box is in her lap now. Seeing without seeing, the darkness is blinding. Tears stream down the face that houses her and she can’t bring herself to wipe them away. Through the sound of her unbridled laughter she hears footsteps padding down the hallway. The child’s voice speaks from her lips: give me your eyes, you don’t even use them. Selfish girl. Dizziness engulfs her as she stares at herself, standing in the doorway, grinning madly. Told ya you’d be back, the voice taunts from within her seated body.

With a jolt she sits upright, panic clearing the fog of sleep from her mind. Heart racing, she rips the blanket from herself, terrified she will see the unfamiliar body of a man. Instead, she finds her body lay encased in silk pyjamas, as normal and unremarkable as it has always been. With a jagged shutter she allows relief to flood throughout herself, feeling cool and tingly in its blanketing presence. Swinging her legs over the side of her bed, she shakes her head, only partially recalling the details of the dream.

Peace finds her as she dresses and opens her door to take in the morning’s air. It feels deliciously warm on her skin as she walks. The remaining unease flows effortlessly from her as she takes in the beauty of the field that surrounds her. Smiling, she lifts her face to allow the fullness of the sun’s kiss. The birds in the distance sing songs so peaceful and pleasing that she lets out a content sigh. The wild grass and wheat and weeds feel surprisingly soft under her bare feet. I wish I could stay here, she thinks.