Sixteen

“Can you tell me a little bit more about these dreams you’ve been having? When did they start?”

Dayley slid the palms of her hands across her jeans, hoping to subtly dry the layer of nervous sweat that had formed since she arrived. There was no reason to be as anxious as she was; Dayley scheduled this therapy session for herself and had been looking forward to it all week. Yet, as soon as she sat down in Dr. Thomas’ office, she questioned if she would actually be able to get the help she so desperately needed.

“Honestly, it’s gone on for as long as I can remember. They’ve shifted over the years, the nightmares, but it’s pretty much been the same concept since I was maybe 16 or 17,” Dayley replied. The time on her watch read 10:12 A.M. 48 minutes left, she thought to herself.

“And what exactly happens in the nightmares?” Dr. Thomas asked. The man sitting across from her looked exactly like what Dayley had pictured when she decided to see a therapist – a tall, older man with gray hair and large glasses. Something about Dr. Thomas’ voice reminded her of her grandfather. It was soft and kind, the way her grandfather’s voice was, and it made her feel slightly more at peace.

“The general plot, if you will, is that I am alone somewhere. It is usually at my current house or my childhood home, but occasionally it takes place somewhere that I don’t recognize. Anyway, at the beginning of the dreams I’m alone and I feel anxious like I know something is about to happen. Then I will either hear a sound or a voice which tells me that I am not alone after all. Someone is there with me or trying to break into the house. At that point, I start running either throughout all the rooms or far away from the initial location. In some dreams, I’m running for what seems like hours and my heart feels like it is going to explode out of my chest. Even when I don’t know what I’m running from, I know that I am running for my life.”

Simply recounting her nightmares was making Dayley feel all the same feelings as she just described. She paused to take a sip of water and noticed that Dr. Thomas was writing something down on his notepad even after she stopped speaking. She couldn’t help but lean forward a little bit closer, straining to read his writing upside down.

“Dayley?” Dr. Thomas prompted her.

“What?”

“Don’t worry about what I’m writing. It’s just to help me gather some thoughts.”

Dayley felt her cheeks flush. He had been looking right at her for a minute or two without her noticing, and probably said something that she didn’t catch.

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “Did you say something?”

“I asked what happens next in the dreams. Do they stop there, or do you ever face what is chasing you?”

“Um, I used to face them when I was younger.”

“Them?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t like the same person every time. Most of the nightmares were random. I was often being chased by a stranger or a creepy sort of monster thing. Sometimes it would be someone I knew that I had a bad experience with. Regardless, what would happen was that I would randomly get jump-scared by them. For example, if I was running throughout my house, I would eventually open a door and the person chasing me would suddenly appear on the other side of that door.”

“What happened when you saw them?”

Dayley slowly let a deep breath in and out. Admittedly, she felt stupid for even being there. She was a grown woman seeking help for childhood nightmares that never stopped. But something had changed over the years. They weren’t just bad dreams anymore; they felt like real life – and they were affecting her real life. Dayley had refused to get help for years, but she was spiraling now. There was no other option, especially not after the state her husband, Nick, found her in two nights ago.

“I would scream. Hard. A terrified, throat-burning scream. And then they would grab me.” Looking down, she realized that her nails had dug so deep into her palms that she was starting to draw blood. 38 minutes. Just 38 minutes left.

“Is that where the dreams would end?”

“Usually yes. Sometimes no. Sometimes they would kill me first before it ended.”

“I see,” Dr. Thomas nodded as he scribbled something else down. “Now, you mentioned that these dreams have shifted over the years. What has changed?”

“I’m not really finding what is chasing me anymore. In the nightmares, I’m rarely actually facing the person in my house now but it’s still very clear to me that they are there. It’s clear that I’m not safe. If anything, I’m more scared because I don’t know where to turn. It’s like they are all around, encompassing me entirely yet I can’t see a thing.”

“Where are your most recent dreams taking place?” The therapist promptly stopped writing and stared directly at Dayley, waiting for her answer. That seemed to trigger something for him, Dayley thought. Does he know something?

“In my house, I guess. Yeah, inside the house. Two nights ago, I dreamed that I was locked inside with the person, and I couldn’t open any of the doors to get out. It was like they were locked from the outside so I couldn’t unlock them. I remember feeling my body tense up more and more every second like the more I tried to get out, the closer the person was getting to me. I woke up screaming and crying, and my husband said I had been yelling at someone to get away from me. He said that he had tried to wake me up sooner, but I pushed him to the ground in my sleep. The sound of his fall is probably what pulled me out of the nightmare, but I felt like it was still happening even after I woke up. I couldn’t talk or do anything for a while after.”

“Thank you for sharing that with me, Dayley. I know it must be hard to relive it. In your initial appointment request form, you stated that these dreams have been impacting your ability to perform your daily routine. What do you mean by that?”

“I guess I just feel extremely uncomfortable and jumpy for a while after. Last week I dropped a mug at worked and it shattered into a hundred pieces all because someone called my name while walking up behind me. I know that seems pretty harmless, but I feel like that all the time. I am too anxious to go to sleep, so I’m awake most of the night. I hardly get any rest anymore and the sleep I do get is full of night terrors like what I just described. It’s torture. I almost wish I could just face whoever is chasing me so I can at least know what I’m afraid of. It’s made me fearful of basically everyone around me.”

As she said those last few words, Dayley’s throat suddenly felt dry. After all, she hardly knew Dr. Thomas, and that was now bothering her more than it probably should have. 27 minutes left. Nervous thoughts started to swirl around her mind, entangling themselves into a knot that she then felt in her stomach.

What if I can’t see the person chasing me because I haven’t met them yet? What if Dr. Thomas is the person? Should I be afraid of him? No, that’s crazy. He’s here to help you. If anything, you sought him out. Quit being paranoid. 26 minutes. Stop watching the time, he knows you’re watching the time. What is he writing down now? I didn’t even say anything. 25 minutes.

“Dayley? Are you with me? Can I get you some more water?”

Does he know? Is he laughing to himself because he knows I’m describing him, and I just don’t realize it yet? Does he know exactly how he’s going to kill me? Will it happen tonight? Or will I dream it first? Stop it. Stop it. You’re crazy. 23 minutes. This is why you’re here. This is why you need help. Just…

“Stop!” Dayley screamed aloud. She threw her now empty cup onto the table and jumped up from her chair. Everything was racing – her mind, her heart, even the hands on the clock looked like they were spinning out of control. Dayley struggled to catch her breath and collapsed back into the chair. All of this happened while Dr. Thomas remained still, watching her closely. He cautiously handed her another glass of water and a tissue.

“It isn’t real, Dayley. What you’re thinking is not real,” he whispered to her. Dayley could barely focus on the words he was saying. It felt as if her ears were stuffed with cotton and her nose was being held shut. She continued to breathe heavily, desperately trying to survive whatever was happening to her.

“You are at war within yourself. Your body is stuck in fight or flight mode as a result of your subconscious, which is causing this panic attack. You need to confront this. These nightmares of yours are taking over and you can’t allow them to any longer. Face what is chasing you. Stop running and confront it, even if it kills you though I promise it won’t.”

Dayley couldn’t believe what she was hearing. How could Dr. Thomas be so confident in telling her to face something that had been chasing her for over a decade even if it kills her. The panic that had spread throughout her body was quickly turning into anger. He doesn’t understand. Someone is going to kill me. My life is at risk. He doesn’t understand.

“I think I need to leave,” she spat out quickly as she rose from her chair once more.

“Dayley please think about it. I know you feel misunderstood, but you must remember that it is not real. You’ve survived the dreams every time thus far. If you have another, try waiting. Don’t run. Just once,” Dr. Thomas pleaded with her differently this time. He wasn’t writing notes or wearing his glasses anymore. He was simply standing beside Dayley with his eyes wide and his hand outstretched softly, begging her to be brave.

“I have to go, I’m sorry.”

Dayley rushed out with only 10 minutes left in their session. She ran to her car and drove swiftly home where she spent the rest of the day sulking quietly to herself.

…

When evening came, Dayley finally worked up the courage to tell Nick what happened at her therapy session that morning. He hugged her tightly and cried with her as she described the panic attack that ensued. After several hours of racing, her heart finally felt at peace enough that Dayley slowly fell asleep.

Immediately, Dayley was transported into the nightmare that had been torturing her for years. Everything was exactly as she had described to Dr. Thomas that morning. Dayley recognized that she was inside her own house and completely alone. It was almost completely dark aside from one dim light in the center of the first floor. Without hesitation, Dayley reached for the front door, but the knob would not budge. Dayley dashed over to the back door which led to her garden. It too was locked.

As if on schedule, her heart rate began speeding up and Dayley was overcome with the sense that she was not alone.

Just then, she heard a banging sound coming from upstairs. Someone was slamming things on the floor and hitting the walls. Dayley felt every inch of her skin crawl. She ran to a window in the kitchen that appeared open, but as she got closer to it the window disappeared altogether. She clasped a hand over her mouth to hold back a scream as she heard the thumping of footsteps descending the staircase. Each step sounded louder and louder. Closer and closer.

Dayley clenched her fists, the panic setting in as she realized that there was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. As the footsteps reached the bottom of the staircase, she strained her eyes to make out the shape in the darkness. She couldn’t see anything without moving closer, but an image of Dr. Thomas popped into her mind. She shook it away, begging silently to herself for it to not be him standing across the room.

But the image refused to leave her. It remained in her mind and suddenly his voice filled the silence around Dayley saying, “Stop running.”

She wanted to scream back that she couldn’t do it, but she feared that the person that had been chasing her would hear. Dayley was standing still in the darkness at the front end of her house, trembling as the person slowly approached the dim center light from the opposite side. Dozens of images danced through her mind of who Dayley expected to see. Although she was now shaking uncontrollably, she couldn’t help but wonder who had been hunting her down and tearing apart her subconscious. Who could she have possibly done something so wrong to that they needed vengeance so desperately?

“Face it,” the therapist’s voice commanded her once more. Dayley imagined his wide blue eyes as he said that to her just hours earlier. She remembered how they almost looked genuine, like how he would look at someone he loved. Dayley thought about how his voice resembled that of her grandfather, the only person she trusted before she met Nick.

“Okay,” she whispered. Okay.

For the first time ever, Dayley took a step forward. And then another. One at a time until she found herself heading straight toward the light in the center, toward the person she had been running from for most of her life.

“Who are you?” Dayley called out as she stepped into the yellow light. The person was still covered by the darkness until they took one step closer to Dayley. A hooded figure stood directly in front of her.

“Tell me who you are. I have to know,” Dayley demanded this time. Her voice was shaky, but her mind was determined.

The figure removed their hood and Dayley was left staring into her own eyes. They were so familiar, yet younger. At second glance, they appeared red like she had been crying.

“I am you,” the young girl replied. “Don’t you remember me?”

Confused and frightened, Dayley stepped back as she gazed over her teenage self. “Why?” she finally asked. “Why have you been chasing after me all this time?”

“I wasn’t chasing. You’ve been running.”

…

“It was me, kind of. It was 16-year-old me. What does that mean?” Dayley questioned Dr. Thomas the following week. As soon as she awoke from her dream, she scheduled another appointment to meet with him. Every day in between had felt like an eternity.

“You tell me. Who were you expecting to see?” The expression on his face told Dayley that this was exactly the outcome that Dr. Thomas had expected which annoyed her because it was the furthest answer from her mind. Truthfully, Dayley was still in shock at seeing herself after years of thinking a dangerous killer was after her – in her dreams and in reality.

Dayley reflected quietly for a minute before replying, “I honestly don’t know. I was afraid I would see my husband or someone else that I care about because I didn’t want to believe that they could hurt me, but it was me. For at least the last few years, it’s been me as a teen trying to take down myself as an adult. I guess that’s better than what I expected but it still doesn’t make sense. I mean, why would I do that?”

“You could look at it that way, as you being hunted down. Or you could look at it from your, shall we say, teenage clone’s point of view. For Younger Dayley, you’ve been running. Why are you doing everything in your power to get away from her? What does she remind you of?”

After a minute of silence, Dr. Thomas tried again.

“Did something happen to her? Dayley?”

Silence.

“What happened when you were sixteen?”