My brother was beside my bed, shaking me desperately. I couldn't figure out if he wanted me to wake up or if he wanted to make me vomit. My head was dizzy, it hurt, I was never like this. I've never slept so bad in my entire life. That knife... horrible things were starting to happen in my paralysis, I never had a nightmare so deep. I never got to touch an object, I never got to feel or speak, scream, whatever it was while I was paralyzed in my bed. Things were starting to get worse, I just didn't know why.
So my brother managed to wake me up and I thank God for that. I could have died in the middle of my dream, I could have died without being able to say anything, I could have died drowning in my own blood. And that knife? Where did she come from? Who was talking to me during my dream? The Refectory Woman, perhaps? But I didn't see her, which makes me more confused.
My head continued to hurt.
"Billie, how are you?" asked my brother. I could see he was in front of me, but I was so dizzy my vision was totally blurred. I could feel my sweat running down my forehead, but I couldn't wipe it away because he was holding me tightly in his arms as he breathed as heavily as he could. He was more desperate than me.
"Mike?" I managed to say, managing to get one of my shaking hands to his face. "Please help me, Mike..." My voice was starting to crack, my head felt like it was going to explode.
He stopped for a long time, now he was staring at me from my chin to the last hair on my head. He seemed to be thinking about something, reasoning like he had never reasoned.
"Enough!" he said at last. "I'm taking you to Dr. Hahn's clinic to talk to Mom."
"No, please, Mike...I don't want to worry her."
"But you've been worrying me too much, Billie! This cannot go on like this! You have to start treating your paralysis, you have to learn to control yourself!"
"I can not!" I yelled, but actually my voice came out in a whisper. Was I losing her now too? "Do you think I like going to bed knowing I can have this shit every night? Do you think I'm comfortable with that, Mike? Do you really think I never tried to treat this thing?"
He was silent, it was clear in his face that he had nothing to say. He swallowed and then let go of my arms. He sat on my bed, crossing his fingers and keeping his head down. I leaned over and leaned against the headboard and left my pillow more upright so I could support my back on it.
We didn't say anything for a while until I opened my mouth.
"I just wanted to know why they're more frequent now. And much deeper."
The expression on his face was no longer worried or sad, it shifted to thoughtful. Then he lifted his head and looked at me.
"Have your nightmares gotten more constant since Mom went to the clinic?"
He seemed to have read my mind. He must really notice me every day. Maybe he really cares about me and I never stopped to notice. At that moment, a billion things flew through my head, like thoughts from the past. Did I ever stop to ask him if he was okay at any point? Did I ever stop to see if he needed help? When I saw that his friends weren't caring about him anymore, did I go stay close to him? The answer to all of these was a big NO nailed in my mind. No no and no.
"Yes," I replied, sighing. I finally managed to wipe the sweat off my forehead, then I looked down at my hands and they were both wet with sweat. I also noticed that I managed to stop shivering, what a wonderful feeling.
He was silent again, then slapped his hands on his thighs and got up from my bed.
"Where you go?" I asked, this time really interested in what he was doing.
"Change your clothes, let's see Mom."
After a few minutes afraid to close my eyes again, I managed to fall asleep. I covered myself under the covers as much as possible so I couldn't see anything. I only left a space to circulate the air in there because I don't want to suffocate in a blanket.
I managed to sleep well at least, I had no nightmares, I had no dreams, it was just a turning off of my head so I could relax and rest for at least two hours of my day. It had been more than four in the morning when my brother woke me up in bed, and now it's past six in the morning. My brother is downstairs, making breakfast. I could smell it from a distance: bacon and scrambled eggs. I don't like it much, my stomach churns, but it's his favorite coffee so I'll try not to scowl while I eat.
I'm in front of the mirror on my wardrobe door, I'm watching myself. I look terrible. If someone were to look at me, they could easily mistake me for a zombie. My dark circles are huge, my head still hurts but not as much as before. My feet are cold, that was one of the reasons I wore two socks and a tight shoe so that no wind would get in there. I'm terrible, tired.
I went down to the kitchen, my brother was at the stove making eggs. The smell of oil was strong around there, he had put a lot on it.
"Are you making eggs with oil or oil with eggs?" I said, holding my nose and going to the stove.
He excused himself. I took the spatula and started to stir the scrambled eggs in the skillet. I added some salt, tasted it, saw that it was good and served it on our plates along with the bacon. Two for each.
"I want to see when you start living alone," I said laughing, her gaze on his face, still serving the eggs. When it was over, I placed the skillet in the sink, making that sound of fire in contact with the water. "Your house won't last a week, you can be sure."
I sat down to eat, my brother sat beside me.
We ate our breakfasts without saying much to each other. He asked me if I was okay, if I didn't have any more nightmares, and I said no. He seemed to be calmer, because he ate more heartily than before. I was starving so I couldn't complain about the burnt bacon he'd made. It was delicious just the same.
After an hour, he went to get ready. I was ready so I waited for him sitting in the living room. He returned with the outfit he always wore to go out: a dark gray sweatshirt, ripped jeans, a leather shoe, and a hat with a black ribbon.
"Let's go?" he asked, putting his hat on his head.
"Let's go."
At first I thought that idea was stupid and it wouldn't change anything, but then I started to think the idea of being able to talk to my mother was cool, I'm missing her. It won't be such a good thing to arrive and have to say "I've been having nightmares constantly since you came here", it would make her even more worried.
My brothers and I were already on the only bus that went to Manily that day and at that time. The bus was practically empty, just me, Mike, two more people and the driver. I sat by the window, able to see the empty street. Few people were there either, pacing back and forth in the running time; some kept an eye on the watch on their wrist, you could see from a distance that they were looking forward to getting home and being able to rest. They would come home and rest... sleep.
As I leaned against that closed window (which, if it were open, I'd already be frozen from the cold weather), my head shaking from the moving bus, I stopped to think about Cafeteria Woman. How did I manage to see her without being in the trance of paralysis? It is possible? Have nightmares while awake? Said the girl who has this shit practically every night, but... literally awake? I was moving! I was walking! How did that woman show up in front of me without me even sleeping? And that fainting...it wasn't normal. It really wasn't.
To think that these deep nightmares started happening since my mother left home for a while makes me even more terrified, because now there is no one else to help me. Okay, there's my brother, but he doesn't help me, the least he does is shake me so I can wake up sweating and shivering in bed with my head hurting.
I heard the sound of paper crunching against my pants and then I shoved one of my hands into my pocket, it was the paper from the prescription for the medicine Mr. Schneider had given me yesterday. I stared at him for a long time, thinking that maybe if I didn't take that, my nightmares would be worse than they already are. But that can't happen, right? I crumpled it back up and stuffed it in my pocket again.
We were getting to Manily just like that when my head started to hurt again. I grunted a little, not being able to bear the awful pressure. I tried to massage my head with my fingers, but I think my brother noticed why he turned to me after that.
"Is everything all right, Bill?" he asked, placing one of his hands on my arm.
I nodded, squinting my eyes. No, I wasn't fine. How could he not see that? My mother would notice. Speaking of which, we just arrived at the bus stop, the place where we got off. Luckily, the spot was right in front of the clinic, across the street. As there were no cars passing by, my brother and I crossed without even looking around.
We went up the stairs that led to the reception. I saw the same woman from the day before yesterday when my mother came here.
"This way."
He led me to a short hallway that had a door at the very end. We crossed it, arriving at a starting nucleus for three more runners (larger this time), one to the right, one to the left and one to the front.
"She said to go straight," my brother said, starting to walk down the front hall. I followed him, not knowing where we were going until I asked:
"Where are we going?"
"To the living room," he replied, not even looking at me.
"Is Mom there?"
"Tell the receptionist she's been waiting for us for nearly half an hour."
"Did you let her know we were coming?"
"Yes"—he turned to me—"two hours ago.
I widened my eyes. How late we were! All his fault, obviously. We reached the end of the hallway, where there was a double wooden door with two blue windows in each. Through the glass, I could see my mother alone in that room, sitting at one of the many tables with chairs, her fingers crossed in front of her mouth, thoughtful.
Mike turned to me and sighed.
"Let's go?"
I nodded again.
We walked through the door, my mother looked at us. A smile spread across her lips and then she rose from her chair, opening her arms for a hug.
"My children!" she said. We walked to her desk and hugged her at once. She rested her head on our shoulders and took a deep breath. "It's so good to see you guys again."
"A hug at the entrance, another at the exit!" announced a woman at the entrance to the living room. My mom ended the hug, scowling at the woman and then studying Mike's and mine.
"Look," she said, "you guys seem even taller since the last time I saw them. Sit down!"
The three of us sat at the living room table. The sound of chairs scraping on the floor echoed through the empty room, making me uncomfortable.
"Why is it so empty here?" I asked, looking around with just my eyes.
"People here don't usually get visitors," my mother replied in a whisper. "Yesterday, while I was waiting for you to arrive, there was a woman there, sitting at that table. She pointed to a table in the corner of the room with just her thumb. "That woman over there"—this time she indicated to the girl at the entrance to the room who had announced the embrace—"said she had been there for over two hours, waiting for a friend to arrive, in exactly the same position as always, without moving."
"How awful," Mike said.
"I'm glad I have a family who can always visit me now," she said, smiling. That was a smile I hadn't seen on my mom's face in a long time, even though she was in this horrible place for people addicted to drugs.
"Are you happy to be here, Mom?" I asked, interested.
"Oh, let's say this isn't the place of dreams, but..." she tried to find something to say, I could see it in her eyes, "... overall, I'm fine. My roommate doesn't quite get it in her head, I'll admit. She's kind of crazy."
"Who is it?"
"I didn't have the heart to ask her name, she's too overwhelmed. At one point, while I was sleeping, she took the lamp and turned it on right in her face. She climbed onto my bunk and woke me up. I turned to the side and saw her there, with the light on her face. It was... scary, but it was also funny. I slept with nightmares."
Mike and I laughed. My mom saw that we were okay and a laugh escaped too.
"What happened yesterday, Billie?" she asked, she wasn't laughing anymore, she was serious. "At your brother's soccer practice? When I got the call from Mike, I was worried."
"It was just a faint," I said, trying to pretend it was the most normal thing in the world.
"Are you sure it was nothing?"
She looked at me with her eyes as excruciatingly as she could. I didn't want to lie, but I also didn't want to worry her. My head was racing again, hurting. Yes or No? What do I answer? She was going to tell me to leave right now just so she could go see Mr. Schneider... but that's not what I want.
"Yes, Mom," I said, sighing. "It was nothing."