Of Dreams And Obsessions

A Fragile Reality

I stood frozen as the doors slid shut behind him, the weight of Elias' words lingering in the air. "Take care of yourself." They echoed in my mind, a strange warmth spreading through me, contrasting the cold sweat still clinging to my skin. I clutched my bag tighter, staring at the door he had disappeared through.

Was I really okay?

I didn't feel okay. But maybe, just maybe, I could get there. My heart was still racing, but I could breathe now. That suffocating sense of terror had receded, leaving behind an eerie stillness. I turned my head, scanning the empty train car again, making sure those faceless figures hadn't returned.

Nothing. Just me, the hum of the train, and the fading thrum of adrenaline coursing through my veins.

I glanced down at my phone in my hand, feeling its weight again. It felt like it was staring back at me, challenging me to unlock the screen, to look again at what wasn't there. I hesitated. If I did, would the messages be gone again? Or worse... would they be back?

I shoved the phone into my coat pocket, deciding it didn’t matter. Not right now. Right now, I needed to focus on one thing: surviving the day. Work was a short walk from the next station, and maybe throwing myself into my job would be the distraction I needed. Something to anchor me, to keep me from spiralling any further.

The train pulled into the station, its automated voice announcing my stop. I grabbed my bag and stepped off, the cool air of the underground station a relief after the stifling ride. People bustled around me, heading to wherever their lives demanded they go, blissfully unaware of the strange world I had just woken from. I envied them, their normalcy.

But as I merged into the crowd and climbed the stairs into the daylight, a gnawing sensation tugged at me. I wasn’t normal anymore. Something was happening to me, something beyond the panic attacks or stress-induced nightmares. My sleepwalking, the faceless people... it was all connected to something deeper, something I wasn’t ready to face. Not yet.

Still, the image of Elias stuck with me. His calm, his presence in the midst of my terror. I didn’t even know him, yet he had pulled me back from the edge. I wondered if I’d ever see him again. But thinking of him also reminded me of the terrifying context in which we’d met, and my stomach twisted in knots again.

I needed to get out of my head. I needed... something.

The walk to the office felt like a blur. I barely registered the usual street sounds—the honking cars, the buzz of pedestrians, the sharp clack of my own shoes on the pavement. The world outside was distant, like I was still trapped in the fog of a dream, only half-present. I forced myself through the motions of entering the building, flashing my badge at the security desk, and taking the elevator up to my floor.

By the time I reached my desk, my head was buzzing, and the thought of diving into emails or projects made me want to scream. Still, I sat down and powered on my computer, willing myself to focus.

Rachel’s voice broke through my haze. “Sophia?”

I jumped slightly in my chair and turned to find her standing at the edge of my cubicle, concern etched into her face. “You okay? You’ve been kind of... off lately.”

I swallowed hard, trying to conjure a casual smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”

Rachel raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Tired? You’ve been more than just tired. You look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”

I averted my gaze, feeling the weight of her worry pressing on me. How was I supposed to explain what was really going on? That I was waking up in strange places, seeing faceless people, receiving messages that might be from my own subconscious? I shook my head slightly, dismissing the thoughts. “It’s just been... a lot. Stress, you know?”

Rachel’s eyes softened. She leaned against the cubicle wall, crossing her arms. “Soph, you can talk to me. I’ve known you long enough to know when something’s really wrong.”

I pressed my lips together, torn between the urge to confide in her and the fear of sounding completely insane. Rachel wasn’t just a coworker—she was my friend, one of the few people I trusted. But still, how could I even begin to explain this?

“I... I don’t know how to talk about it,” I admitted quietly, picking at a loose thread on my sleeve. “It’s just... weird.”

Rachel frowned, stepping closer and pulling up a chair. “Weird how?”

I hesitated again, searching for the right words. My chest tightened as I thought about the texts, the sleepwalking, and the overwhelming sense that something was unraveling inside me. “I’ve been having... nightmares,” I began slowly. “But not just when I’m asleep. I’m... sleepwalking. Waking up in places I don’t remember getting to.”

Rachel’s frown deepened, her eyes scanning my face with concern. “Sophia... that sounds serious. Have you told anyone? Seen a doctor?”

I shook my head quickly. “No. I don’t want to...” I trailed off, my voice shaky. “It’s hard to explain. It’s like, I’m losing time. I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

Rachel reached out and placed a hand on mine. “That’s not something to brush off. You need to take care of yourself, Soph.”

Her words reminded me of Elias. “Take care of yourself.” It was the same sentiment, the same worry. But from Rachel, it hit differently. She knew me. She saw how much I was falling apart.

I bit my lip, feeling a lump form in my throat. “I met someone,” I confessed suddenly. “On the train. He helped me when I... panicked. I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”

Rachel’s brow furrowed further. “Wait, you had a panic attack on the train?”

I nodded, unable to meet her eyes. “There were these... people. Faceless people. And then... Elias. He was the only one who had a face, and he... he helped me. But I don’t even know if any of it was real.”

Rachel squeezed my hand gently. “Soph, this sounds like more than just stress. I’m worried about you.”

I let out a shaky breath, blinking back tears. “I’m worried too.”

For the first time in a while, I allowed myself to admit it. To acknowledge that something was terribly wrong, and I couldn’t keep brushing it aside. Rachel’s presence was grounding, but it also reminded me that I couldn’t run from this forever.

“Maybe I should see someone,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Rachel nodded, her expression firm but kind. “I think that’s a good idea. And I’ll be here, okay? Whatever you need.”

Her words were a lifeline, a small piece of hope in the chaos swirling around me. I nodded, feeling a tiny flicker of relief amidst the storm.

But even as I clung to Rachel’s reassurance, a part of me couldn’t shake the lingering question: What if I couldn’t wake up from this nightmare?