Locked In

Everyone has dreams. Everyone has nightmares. But have you ever had a dream, so real, so terrifyingly graphic, it left you wondering… did it actually happen. Is it JUST a dream, or did reality find itself where it shouldn't be. The mind can be a powerful place, and if influenced by the wrong things… dangerous. 

                                                       ***

"Mom, don't move… hand it over, slowly."

"NO, it's too special! You have no idea how significant this is to the women of our family! I'm not letting you take it!" 

"Gloria is dead! Mom, you need to give me…"

"NEVER! Andrew, my dear boy, it's all a dream. I told you about my dream, remember? It's not real. This keepsake has been passed down for generations. It didn't kill anyone." 

"This is insanity! You killed her! You murdered Gloria! Your own daughter, why?! I need you to give me the…”

"Arly! Arly dammit, wake up! You're going to miss the bus!”

Arly Davis shot up in bed, drenched in her own sweat. She quickly checked under the covers, getting up relieved she wouldn't be changing her sheets for the third time that week. Another dream, or as her best friend Dani liked to refer to them as, nightmares. These "nightmares" started happening last winter after Arly's 16th birthday. It was always the same two people. A man and a woman, arguing over… something. She didn't know why, but these moments in her sleep Arly never felt like they were, "hers." 

"Arly Mariam Davis, if I have to call you one more time, I'll…" 

"I'm coming, Mom. Gosh." 

Arly pulled on a hoodie, not giving a second thought about changing out of her sweatpants and junk shirt. She was a junior in high school. No one would care. Tripping into the bathroom, she checked to make sure her locket was still around her neck. Looking in the mirror, Arly smiled. She wasn't a "perfect picture" when it came to society's definition of beauty. Still, her long, curly brown hair and strong jaw was something she was fond of. She didn't need to be super skinny like all the other "popular" girls in her school. Arly preferred her toned, muscly arms and legs from years of running track and playing basketball.

She mindlessly touched the gold locket resting on her chest. She couldn't remember the last time she took it off. It was a gift for her sweet sixteen, from a great aunt or something… Arly didn't really care. It looked mysterious, and she liked that. 

                                                     ***

"Well?? What did they say this time?!" Dani prodded as the two girls walked to class. 

"Who? My mom? She screamed at me because I overslept again and..."

"No stupid. You know, creepy nightmare people?" Dani rolled her eyes. Arly had relied on Dani through all of these confusing nights. Her parents would send her to another money-driven therapist or write her off as dramatic, but Dani truly listened to her. Dani's care and friendship were what comforted Arly through those stressful times.

"It was mostly the same crap." Arly tended to keep the more disturbing parts to herself. "I didn't notice anything different. It doesn't matter anyway, Dani. It's just a dream. I probably just need to stop watching so many intense horror films,” she laughed nervously. 

"Well, duh, considering you seem to have a phobia of two strangers fighting! Whatever, you're just weird." Dani said in the most caring way possible. "You are very perceptive though," she gave her friend a nudge. "So, if you think there's something wrong…" 

"Nah, it's just a phase. I've got psychology, see you next period." 

Walking into her classroom, Arly found herself feeling a bit queasy. She didn't know why, just a vibe she guessed. She sat down in her dreaded, assigned, front-row seat. 

"Alright, class, settle down, please. I'm Mr. Finley, your substitute for the next couple months." He was a tall, well-built man with kind eyes and a gentle expression. Arly caught herself glaring and quickly looked away. He seemed nice enough, but subs always got under her skin. Mrs. Hawkings was out on maternity leave. 

Class was boring, as usual. Mr. Finley wasn't awful, but Arly didn't love him either. "Now, let's see here. Before we end, I have a question for all of you. Has anyone here studied any form of brain anatomy? Or read about it in class?" 

"What the heck?" Arly whispered to herself. Some students grunted, either confused or annoyed by how well this substitute's knowledge of human psychology was. No one likes a sub who actually teaches. 

"Let me give you a quick overview," Mr. Finley continued. "Let me tell you how your brain is influenced by how you live your life. Whether you would like to believe it or not, your brain is greatly impacted in various ways. Physical, mental, and even subconscious interactions help shape your brain's functions. What you engage with can impact your mind greatly."

Arly stared intently at the substitute. She felt even more sick. What he was saying made sense but bothered her.

"Excuse me, Mr. Finley… Can this "brain shaping" or whatever, affect dreams?" 

Mr. Finley turned towards Arly and smiled. "Why yes, yes they can. Funny you ask, Miss?..."

"Arly, Arly Davis." 

"Well, Miss Arly, dreams are a form of our mind's deepest thoughts, and sometimes, fears. Like a person's behavior, they are influenced by experiences or interactions and can reveal a lot about what we may expose ourselves to that can harm us emotionally or psychologically. Dreams can bring out things that we may have never wanted to surface.”

Arly jumped as the bell went off for the start of second period. She stood up and slowly gathered her things, watching as her fellow peers rushed out of the classroom. Still curious to know where her sub had been going with his little dream lecture, Arly walked hesitantly to the door and turned around, "Hey, uhh, Mr. Finley?" Mr. Finley turned from the board to look at her, "Yes, Arly?" There was something in his eyes that all of a sudden angered her. 

"Arly? Are you alright?" Mr. Finley looked troubled. She took a step back, clenching her fists. "Never mind, have a nice day."

She stormed out of the room, cheeks burning, and palms beginning to bleed from how tight she was squeezing them. 

Arly ran to the bathroom and locked herself in a stall, immediately pulling out her phone to text Dani. Her palms were raw. Tears began rolling down her cheeks. Thankfully, it didn't take Dani long to find her. 

"ARLY! Are you okay? What- oh my gosh. What happened to your hands?! Dani bent down to hug the now sobbing Arly, who had no clue why she was crying. She just felt wrong.

"Dani… I'm gonna," Arly began as Dani pushed her friends head to the toilet. Arly Davis threw up. Then threw up again. After that, with many objections from Arly, Dani called Mrs. Davis to come to pick up her pale-as-a-ghost daughter. 

                                                       ***

"You're sure you don't want me to come home with you?" Dani asked, concerned, as Arly climbed into the passenger's seat. "No, it's okay Dani, I'll be fine.. I'll see you tomorrow." 

During the whole drive home, Arly couldn't help but think of her substitute, and every time she did, she would grind her teeth. There was something about him. She hated him—there was something she recognized and despised but couldn't quite put her finger on.

"Okay, hurry and get out. I have to get back to a conference meeting. Go take some medicine, wrap those awful hands of yours, and get to bed." 

Without a word, Arly complied with her mother's command, took her bag, and headed to the house. She walked heavily to her room upstairs and collapsed on her bed, shivering. Arly knew she should at least take medicine since she didn't feel like bandaging her hands as they had stopped hurting. Instead, she closed her eyes and slept.

There was a man. He was looking at himself in the mirror. His face was blurry, like an almost forgotten memory. He was holding something. A… it looked like… maybe a baby?

The scene changed, and the man was facing an older woman, his arms outstretched, backing away from her and glancing at a body, a young woman's body, bloody on the floor. Then the voices came. 

"I need you to give it to me, Mom… it's dangerous. Please… stop looking at it. It's hurting you." The man was speaking to the older woman, his tone was urgent and serious. "Andrew, I need it. It's special. It's been in our family for so long. You can't take it from me." Her voice was like an echo, strong and threatening. All of a sudden, Arly felt herself standing in the corner between the two. She felt so small and helpless. The old woman snapped her neck around to stare at Arly. She began rushing toward her… the man lunged, screaming, "NO!!" 

"AHHHHHHHH!!" Arly fell off her bed, out of breath. Panic attack. She rushed to the bathroom and gagged into the toilet.

"I should take a shower," Arly whispered, voice cracking. The hot water scorched her skin, but she felt better after. She pulled on fresh clothes and wrapped herself in a blanket. Sitting on her bed, she grabbed at her neck. It was stinging. Frighteningly painful. 

"Maybe the chain is irritating my skin," Arly said to herself. She reached for the clasp. It wouldn't unlatch. Arly anxiously began pulling, feeling a bit claustrophobic. Still, the locket clasp would not release. She grabbed angrily at her pillow and threw it across the room. She collapsed face down onto her bed and began weeping once again. She was so confused. What time was it? She glanced at her iPhone, it read 4:36 p.m. "What? I've been sleeping all day?" 

Her parents would be home from work soon. She should probably call her mom to see if she needed to start supper, but Arly was just so exhausted. Both from crying and stress. Instead, she texted Dani to see if she'd spend the night. After a couple of minutes, without a response from her friend, Arly fell back to sleep. 

There was sobbing. It sounded so far away, but she recognized it. She'd somehow heard it before. It was the man hunched over the dead woman. The older woman was not in sight, and neither was the little girl. Wait, had there been a little girl? Why was Arly thinking of a little girl? No dreaming, this was a dream. Hadn't the man been holding something before? Right – the baby. Was the baby the little girl? Where was she? The man turned his head. Arly could see his face. His eyes, she knew those eyes he…

All of a sudden, Arly saw herself. Sitting up in bed, looking at the locket. She saw herself open it, she saw her own face go pale, and scream at the thing behind her. Inside her necklace was a mirror. Arly saw her own reflection, and something else. 

"K i l l t h e m….." 

Who or... what... said that? She could hear her parents come in. It sounded hazy, like coming out of a dream.

 "Arly! We're home! Why isn't dinner started?! Arly ran to her dresser drawer and pulled out her pocket knife from 6th grade. "Arly?" It was her father's voice this time. "Arly girl, we're back! Mom told me about your little incident at school. Are you okay?" Arly put a hand to her mouth, wanting to throw up again. She crept silently down the stairs. Somehow knowing exactly where her parents were and how to reach them. They would never know until it was too late. Sarah and Albert Davis had their backs to their daughter as she entered the kitchen noiselessly. "Honey, come down here," her mom yelled. The floor squeaked behind them. "Mom… Dad…" Arly's parents turned around. 

"NO, NO STOP IT! DON'T DO IT!" Arly threw off her covers; this time, she knew she would have to change the sheets. Another nightmare. Her sheets were soaked. They were red. Arly was soaked in red. Arly grabbed at her now burning neck and stifled a scream with her other hand. It was 6:40p.m, her parents should be home. Arly, still holding her hand in between her locket chain and neck, rushed to her dresser drawer, searching feverishly for her pocket knife that should have been right… no. No, it was gone. Practically falling down the stairs, Arly reached the kitchen doors and stopped. Her parents were there with slits in their throats. She felt like she was having a seizure. Her body shook, and her brain rattled in her skull. "No," she whispered. "It was a dream, this is just a dream." Arly crawled to her parents' motionless bodies. She grabbed her mom's wrist, hoping, praying for some sign of life. There it was, a pulse. Her father showed the same relieving sign. However, they would not last long. How her bleeding out parents were still alive, Arly did not know. Someone began pounding on her front door. Whoever it was didn't wait much longer until bursting into the house. "Arly?!" Dani screamed. Dani rushed into the horrific sight of her blood-drenched friend sitting in front of her even bloodier parents. "Oh my.." Dani fell to her knees. Arly shot up and pushed Dani away, shrieking, "Why did you bring him with you!? He's a threat to us." The sound may have come out of Arly Davis's Mouth, but the voice was not hers. 

"Arly STOP." It was Mr. Finley. "Give it to me, Arly!" Mr. Finley's face was full of fear and pain. "Please give it to me so I can help you!" Arly clawed at her locket. It felt smaller, like it was choking her. 

"Give me the locket NOW!" 

Arly stopped. She stood there and looked Mr. Finley dead in the eye. Right into those familiar eyes. "You?" her voice was shaky and uncertain. "You're Andrew." 

Andrew Finley froze. His eyes began to water as tears streamed down his face. "Arly, I thought you were too young to recognize me. I thought she would have erased me from your memory. When she took you, but I found you…" 

"What are you talking about?!" Arly screamed. "No, I hate you! You almost ruined me! Stay away!" Arly cried, still speaking for another presence in the room. She grabbed at her locket, desperately wanting to rip it from her neck but, at the same time, feeling the urge to look inside, realizing at that moment that she had never done it before. Except for her dream, but she needed to see it again. 

Dani sat there sobbing, holding a towel to each of the Davis's necks, not knowing what to do with her crazed friend and this strange man from her school. 

"Arly," Andrew cried. "I'm your dad. I'm your father, your mother was Gloria, your grandmother stole you from me. She killed your mom. You have her locket. Your grandmother's locket. You need to take it off before it destroys you as it did her!" 

Arly shrieked and continued clawing at her neck. "No, you're lying! No!" 

Arly wailed. She fell to her knees and screamed in agony. "It wants me to open it!! I have to open it! I have to meet it."

 Andrew ran to his daughter and grabbed her face, "Arly look at me, don't listen to it, you're strong. It's been tempting you for so long I know you've been having the dreams. Arly, please don't do this." 

"Why does it want me?! What is it?! Why did it make me try and kill my parents?!" Arly's tears stained her face and blinded her vision. "My parents, they're dying!"

"Arly, it's been tampering with your mind, that's just what it does. An evil, evil thing. Spiritual influence is so powerful to the mind and heart. You can't let this demon of a ghost continue to haunt the next generation of women to come!"  

"Arly," Dani whispered. "Please, give it to him."

                                                     ***

"Have a nice birthday, Sweetie? I know it wasn't the most expensive sweet-sixteen for my little girl to become a woman. But did you still enjoy it?" Mariam Jones asked her daughter. 

"Yeah Mom, I couldn't have asked for anything better. But I uh, I'm feeling a bit sick. Probably all the cake. I think I'll head to bed early." 

"Okay, sounds good Ava, see you in the morning. I love you."  

"Love you too Mom," Ava Jones clutched her stomach as she walked down the hall to her room. She sat slowly onto her mattress, brushing her blond hair off of her sweating face. Laying down, she reached over to the nightstand clock to set her alarm. However, her fingers rested on something else. Not wanting to irritate her aching torso further, Ava turned her head slowly to look at what her hand was now holding. A small leather box. Curiosity, overpowering her abdominal cramps, brought her into a sitting position yet again. Cradling the box gently, she called to her mom, "Hey ma?! What's this box on my nightstand for?" She waited, no response. Could be a gift her mom had left from her Grammy Arly? A surprise? 

Ava opened the box gingerly, not wanting to damage its sleepy-looking hinges. Her eyes lit up. A gold locket sat on a velvet cushion inside the box. It was beautiful. It was hers... or was it the other way around?