ECLIPSED

S1 Ep12: Can Reality Be Vague?

Jade's eyes snapped open, his heart pounding against his chest like a frantic drumbeat. Cold sweat clung to his skin, and his breath came in short, ragged gasps. The room was shrouded in darkness, the only light filtering through the curtains from the dim glow of the streetlamp outside. A bone-deep fear gripped him, and he shivered uncontrollably, not from the chill in the air but from the lingering terror of his nightmare.

For a moment, he was disoriented, his mind struggling to distinguish between the horrors of his dream and the reality of his room. He looked around, his eyes darting frantically, trying to find something, anything, to ground him in the here and now. His room looked the same – the pale blue walls adorned with posters of bands he loved, the cluttered desk littered with books and papers, the dim light casting muted shadows across the room. Everything seemed normal, yet something felt profoundly wrong.

His gaze fell upon his hands, and relief flooded through him as he saw they were unharmed, not the mangled mess from his nightmare. He ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair, trying to calm his racing mind.
* It was just a dream*, he told himself, just a horrific nightmare. But the terror he felt was so real, so visceral, it clung to him like a second skin.

Gingerly, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, the cool sheets tangled around his legs. He felt disoriented, his thoughts a jumbled mess. The events of the dream played back in his mind, a grotesque montage of violence and revenge. His father, his friends, his sister – all dead, all at his hands. It was an unthinkable horror, a nightmare beyond comprehension.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his bare feet touching the cold wooden floor. The sensation grounded him, pulling him back to reality. He took a deep breath, the air tasting stale and heavy. He needed to clear his head, to shake off the lingering dread that clung to him like a shroud.

Slowly, he rose from the bed, his legs feeling weak and unsteady beneath him. He took a tentative step forward, his movements hesitant, as if expecting the ground to give way beneath him at any moment. He reached for the light switch, flicking it on, flooding the room with a soft, warm glow. The sudden brightness felt jarring, harsh against his sensitive eyes.

His room was a sanctuary, a familiar space filled with the detritus of his life. Posters of his favorite bands covered the walls, the faces of the band members frozen in eternal youth. His desk was a chaotic mess of textbooks and notebooks, a reflection of his life as a student. His guitar sat in the corner, its strings silent, a silent witness to his joys and sorrows.

He moved towards the window, drawing back the curtains, revealing the pre-dawn darkness outside. The world beyond his window seemed unchanged, the familiar houses and trees bathed in the soft, silvery light of the moon. He leaned against the window sill, the cool glass pressing against his forehead. He needed to ground himself, to find some semblance of normalcy in the midst of the chaos that raged within him.

His thoughts were a whirlwind, spinning out of control. The dream had shaken him to his core, casting shadows of doubt and fear over his once-clear conscience. Could he really be capable of such violence, such brutality? The thought terrified him, leaving him feeling vulnerable and exposed.

He turned away from the window, his gaze falling on his reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall. His eyes were wide, filled with a haunted look he didn't recognize. He looked like a stranger, a man lost in a nightmare from which there was no waking. He reached out, touching the cool surface of the mirror, tracing the contours of his face as if trying to find some semblance of his former self.

He needed to shake off the nightmare, to reclaim his sense of self. He moved towards his closet, pulling out a fresh set of clothes. As he dressed, he focused on the simple act of buttoning his shirt, the feel of the fabric against his skin, the mundane task providing a small measure of comfort in the face of the overwhelming terror that threatened to engulf him.

Once dressed, he made his way downstairs, the familiar creak of the stairs beneath his feet a reassuring reminder of the world outside his nightmares. He entered the kitchen, the comforting smell of coffee filling the air. His mother was there, pouring herself a cup, her back to him.

"Morning," she said, turning to face him, her smile warm and welcoming.

"Morning," he replied, forcing a smile onto his face, trying to push the nightmare to the back of his mind.

But as he sat down at the kitchen table, sipping his coffee, the events of the dream continued to haunt him, casting a shadow over the simple joys of everyday life. The terror he felt was real, a lingering presence that refused to be ignored. And deep down, he knew that the nightmare was a reflection of a darkness within him, a darkness he couldn't escape, no matter how hard he tried.

He tried to engage in small talk with his mother, but his mind kept drifting back to the events of the dream, the faces of his loved ones twisted in pain and fear. He felt disconnected, as if he were watching the world through a thick fog, the sounds and sights distorted and distant.

His mother seemed to sense that something was wrong, her eyes filled with concern as she studied his face. "Are you okay, Jade?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry.

Jade felt a lump in his throat, the words catching as he tried to speak. He wanted to tell her about the nightmare, to share the terror and confusion he felt, but the words wouldn't come. He was afraid, afraid of what she would think of him, of the darkness that lurked within him.

"I'm sorry, Mom," he said, pulling his hand away, avoiding her eyes. "I just need some time to myself."

His mother looked at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and understanding. "Alright, Jade," she said softly, her voice tinged with disappointment. "Just remember, I'm here for you if you need to talk."

Jade nodded, forcing a smile onto his face, his heart heavy with guilt and shame. He knew he was pushing his mother away, shutting her out when he needed her the most, but he couldn't bring himself to open up, to share the darkness that consumed him.

He finished his coffee in silence, the warm liquid providing little comfort against the cold dread that gnawed at his insides. He then retreated to his room, seeking solace in the familiar surroundings, hoping to find some semblance of peace in the face of the nightmares that haunted him.
  He just layed supine on his bed, observing his hands again, maybe still surprised that they're still attached to his body.
His mind flew back to the dream he had. He was engulfed in guilt, still finding it hard to believe that all of it was just a nightmare.
There was a knock on the door.
"Jade" A voice called out. It sounded like Chloe
"Chloe is that you?" he asked in bewilderment
"Yes it's me. Can I come in?" she softly asked.
"Yes... Yes" he stammered, still in disbelief of reality
The door creaked as she came in. Sally was right behind her, following her as she entered.
"Mum told me how disturbed you were. What's wrong?"
"I had a dream. I killed you and dad and my friends... I... I was a monster" He reached out for a hug as his eyes teared up
"It's fine. You're not a monster Jade. You're my brother. My twin brother" "I know you'd never do anything to hurt me" she added, reassuring him subtly.
"Is dad okay?" Jade jeered up from her embrace as if he just remembered.
"Yessss. He's in his room. He's fine"  "You need to calm down, okay?"
"Okay" he nodded.
"Let's go join mum in the kitchen, she's making breakfast"

With a deep breath, Jade made his way downstairs, his heart filled with a newfound determination. He knew the path to healing would be fraught with obstacles, the darkness within not easily vanquished, but he also knew that he couldn't continue to live in fear, to be haunted by the nightmare that plagues him.

As he entered the kitchen, his mother was there, her smile warm and welcoming, her eyes filled with concern. "Are you feeling any better?"

Jade looked at his mother, his heart heavy with guilt and shame, but also filled with a glimmer of hope. "I'm not okay, Mom," he said softly, his voice tinged with sadness. "I need help."

His mother looked at him, her eyes filled with understanding and compassion. "I'm here for you, Jade," she said, reaching out to embrace him.

As Jade held his mother close, the weight of the nightmares that had haunted him for so long began to lift, the darkness within slowly beginning to recede.
Chloe just stood by the side, lost by her brother's strange behaviour. *How bad was his nightmare? *she thought to herself and sighed.