PARACIDE

Chapter 10: Cracks In The Mask

The headache hit Sam harder this time, a sudden, throbbing pain that pulsed through his skull like a drumbeat. He pressed his palm against his forehead, trying to stifle the ache, but it only seemed to get worse. The room spun for a second before settling back into a hazy blur. He clenched his teeth, doing his best to stay calm.

Jen’s mother noticed first. She was at the stove, stirring something in a pot, when she turned and caught sight of him grimacing at the table. Her expression, usually so disinterested, shifted slightly. Concern? No, that couldn’t be right. But her eyes lingered on him longer than usual.

"Something wrong with you, kid?" she asked, voice raspy from too many cigarettes. The question was blunt, but there was a trace of worry buried under the gruffness.

Sam quickly shook his head, trying to brush it off. "No, I’m fine. Just… a headache."

Jen, sitting across from him, glanced up, her brow furrowed. "You don’t look fine," she muttered. For once, her voice lacked its usual bite. She studied him carefully, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "You’ve been getting these headaches a lot lately, haven’t you?"

Sam shrugged, pretending it wasn’t a big deal. "It’s nothing. Just need some air or something."

But Jen wasn’t buying it. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "Look, if you’ve got something going on in that thick head of yours, you should say something. It’s not normal to keep wincing like you’re about to pass out."

Sam avoided her gaze, focusing on the chipped edge of his bowl instead. He didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to admit how bad the pain had been getting or the strange flashes of violent imagery that had started creeping into his thoughts again. It was like the nightmares had followed him into the waking world, and the more he tried to ignore them, the stronger they became.

Jen’s mother set the spoon down with a loud clatter, crossing her arms as she stared at Sam. "Listen, if this is some kind of internal thing—like something serious—you need to deal with it. I’ve seen enough in my life to know when someone’s in over their head."

Sam winced at the intensity in her voice, but there was also an unfamiliar warmth, a crack in her usual cold demeanor. It caught him off guard. He had never really expected her to care.

Jen, too, seemed surprised by her mother’s tone. "Wait, you actually give a damn?" she asked, her eyes darting between Sam and her mother. "I thought you were ready to let him keel over."

The mother rolled her eyes. "I’m not heartless, Jen. The kid looks like he’s in pain, and if it’s something bad, we need to know."

Sam felt the weight of both their stares now, the room growing heavier by the second. His headache throbbed in time with his heartbeat, each pulse a reminder that something inside him was off. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to speak.

"It’s just… I’ve had these headaches before. They come and go, usually when I’m stressed." His voice was low, almost a whisper. "But lately… they’ve been getting worse."

Jen leaned back in her chair, her expression softening just a little. "And you didn’t think to mention that before? You could’ve said something."

He sighed, rubbing his temples. "I didn’t want to worry anyone. I thought I could handle it."

Jen’s mother let out a sharp breath. "Look, handling it on your own is only going to get you in deeper trouble. You’re not invincible. If something’s wrong, you deal with it, or it’s going to deal with you." She pointed a finger at him, her tone final. "Get it checked out."

Sam nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. The pain in his head wasn’t just physical. It was something deeper, darker. A creeping sense of dread that no amount of medicine could fix.

Jen, for once, wasn’t throwing sarcasm his way. She simply watched him, her eyes sharp but not unkind. "You should take her advice," she said quietly, her voice carrying a rare note of sincerity. "Whatever’s going on with you… it doesn’t look like it’s going away."

The throbbing in Sam’s head intensified, and for a brief moment, the world around him blurred. He clenched his fists under the table, trying to fight through the pain. But deep down, he knew this was more than just a headache. It was something bigger, something he didn’t want to face.