uncontrollable (completed)

nightmares and daydreams

I sat at the kitchen table again, with a mug of tea in my hands. It was like a repeat of my post-dream panic attack, but this time Phil was the one sitting across from me at the wooden table. He held my phone in his hands, reading the message over and over again.

"What's it supposed to mean?" He fretted, obviously anxious about the message.

Oh, I don't know, I thought. Maybe the crazy terrorists that got me in the first place want me to come back and have tea with them? I didn't say that though, because Phil was my friend. My sarcastic remarks would get me nowhere, so instead of being a sassy asshole, I gave my usual answer.

"I don't know." I cracked my knuckles, a nervous tick I developed in high school. "I guess they want to find me again, because I survived."

"But what the hell is 'You need to take your mind off this place' supposed to mean?!" Phil replied, not quite satisfied with my response.

"They want me to go back to where I was?" I suggested, completely exhausted. "They want me to forget-" I stopped myself, trying not to think about it. I took a deep breath before I spoke again. "I don't know Phil, I have no idea what it means." I slumped down, resting my arms on the table, and my head on my arms as a makeshift pillow. "I'm sorry for waking you up."

Phil shook his head. "God, Mara, I want you to tell me about this stuff, I need to make sure you're okay." He smiled at me, and I instantly felt a little better. Phil had that kind of effect on people, able to brighten their day just by being near him. I could see why so many people watched his YouTube videos, I was lucky though, I got the real thing. "Plus, we don't need anyone coming after me because I didn't take care of you." He joked, and I nodded feeling a little bit better.

"Maybe you should take a little break from work." He suggested. "Just until we figure this stuff out."

"Yeah," I agreed, too tired out to really think about it. "Maybe I should."

I wasn't totally sure it would help, but I knew I needed to get a new phone, or at least a new number if they had found it. A break from work would give me ample time to do that, and I certainly had enough money to support myself. If the nightmares came back too much, or if I started to see things like the wink in the mirror, I could go back.

I sat up, again, propping elbows up on the table."I'll text my boss in the morning." I said, before I realized that it was the morning; just early. I groaned. "Ugh..it is the morning."

"Yeah, Mara," Phil laughed. "That is what happens when you wake up past midnight. It's morning."

"Yeah, but morning doesn't really start to count as morning until four am." I argued, changing positions again, so my legs were tucked under me in the chair.

"I guess." Phil conceded, and I smiled. Now that my best friend was here, I felt a little bit happier, a little bit lighter. It was going to be okay. And then my stomach growled, loudly.

Phil raised an eyebrow. "Do you want to go get some breakfast?"

"Yes, please." I said, nodding quickly. My hands had started shaking again, and at first I thought it was nerves, but found it was my hunger. I hadn't eaten since last night, and an early breakfast sounded great to me. "Do you have any ideas on where to go?" I asked, standing up from the chair and stretching.

"Yeah, there's this place twenty-four hour place in chelsea." He replied, finally setting down my phone and passing it over to me. At the same time I was glad I had it back, it felt like a dark reminder that I wasn't safe. Wasn't normal.

After what happened, I felt like I could never be normal. I'd never be the same again. I felt like the house down the street that the always adults told you to stay away from, broken and stately and mysterious. And seemingly irresistible to strangers, until they came inside and saw what I really was. Haunted.