Elysian

Part I; Chapter I

Chet


Chet hated going to the therapist.

He never liked the drives to his office either. They were horrific. It was the silence, the impatient beeping of car horns next to him, and the cuss-filled arguments with his best friend that had driven him crazy multiple times. Yet, none of his friends wanted to drive a boy as insane as him to a place where he would only get worse, except for Nora. And in return to her wonderful favor, Chet decided he was going to try and make small talk.

"Nora, do you think I'm crazy?" Nora gave the blond headed boy a terrified look, before turning her hazel, cat-like orbs to the road. The topics Chet chooses to speak of are, to many people, not socially acceptable. Conversations about death and insanity weren't many people's cup of tea, but Chet just didn't understand that.

"What? Of course not, Chet. You're - you're completely normal." Nora smiled, and Chet could see the little gap between her teeth. He pressed his face against the cold window, looking at the trees as they passed by.

It was early in the morning, and a large cloud of fog had already settled over the empty forest. Chet shivered. Goosebumps covered his pale skin has he thought of what might be lurking between the trees.

"Nora. Drive faster." Chet whispered, his voice cracking at the end. Nora didn't even have to ask what was wrong, and she pressed harder on the gas pedal. Tears; hot, silent tears stained his flushed cheeks. He kept his thin arms around his fragile body, rocking back and forth in horror.

There was nothing Nora was capable of doing to stop this. Chet always acted like this when he had to go to the therapist. Letting out a low grumble, she quickly pulled over. A gush of winter wind slapped her across the face as she stepped out of her little convertible. Nora walked to Chet's side, opening the door and tossing her arms around the boy.

"Chet, it's going to be okay. You'll be fine. Almost everyone these days go to therapists. My mom visited her therapist two weeks ago." Chet gripped onto her sweater, shivering in fear and coldness.

"D-don't make me go. I don't like it there. He gives me weird looks. He thinks I'm crazy. You think I'm crazy. Oh my goodness, I am crazy." Nora rolled her eyes. It always happened. He would begin blabbering about how insane he was, then start crying, then beg her to turn the car around and drive him back to the comforts of his own house. And she was sick of it.

"Chester Aaron Davies, look at me! For the love of everything, stop talking. Stop acting so weak!" Nora placed both hands on his shoulder blades and shook him. She felt as if he could collapse right there, like he was made of paper, which made her even angrier.

"You were not like this when I met you. What happened to you, Chet? What happened?" His answer was a slight shake of his head.

"God dammit answer me, you bastard!" Chet tilted his head, looking at her as he stopped crying. His blue eyes held no emotion as he spoke.

"They're back."

Nora was not effected by his reaction at all. She huffed out and stood up properly.

"Do you think there is something in that forest?" Chet looked up at her and nodded once.

"Well, I'm going to show you that there is nothing in there." Nora turned around, and before she could take another step, she felt a firm grasp on her wrist. His nails dug into her skin, and she could've sworn she smelled something burning. Chet looked at her with empty eyes, his hand transmitting a weird kind of heat that, when he let go, left Nora's skin red and burnt.

"Let's go." Chet demanded. Nora nodded, and ran towards her side, stumbling and almost falling due to her high heels. Hesitantly, she opened the door and got inside. Nora didn't want to be in the same car with Chet after what had just happened.

There were times were Chet terrified Nora. Times were he would lose all control of his body, letting his emotions take hold. Nora could relate, though. As she started the rusty engine of her crappy car, she spared the boy sitting next to her a glance. He looked right back at her with a smile.

Gulping, Nora turned on the radio, trying to ease the awkwardness between Chet and her. Her car was back on the empty road. She could hear the soft singing of Chet beside her, his fingers tapping gently on the dashboard, smiling as if nothing happened.

It seemed that Chet's fear had subsided, and that he was finally back to his senses. "Sing with me, Nora." Chet whispered, looking straight ahead of him.

"Sing with me, so we could all be happy." Nora titled her head, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion at his words. What was he trying to say?

Chet placed a hand on the window, looking at all the passing trees, and now, the buildings. "We're getting closer." He squinted his eyes, although he had perfect vision, trying to read what a sign said as they passed by it.

"Humans." A rumbling laugh escaped his throat, and it grew louder and louder by the second.

"Humans are stupid. Holding on to something that would only bring them pain is pathetic." Nora's jaw clenched. Time for the philosophical thoughts, she said to herself. This was all a routine for her. Nora had it memorized like the back of her hand.

"Fear. A simple feeling. Do you know the meaning of fear, Nora?"

"No. What is the meaning of fear?"

"Fear is...fear is an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous. But you know what my meaning for it is? What I think fear is? Fear is the feeling you get when you watch a horror movie, or hear a knock on the door while your home alone. That is what fear is. Fear is an illusion, a thing created by the human mind to make a person feel weak and vulnerable.

"Fear leaves one feeling like they are unworthy, that they need protection. Every single person in the 21st century thinks they're independent, but are they? Are they really? No! Of course not! Because they cannot cope with the idea of living alone. It is just too absurd. So they seek protection. And that's when religion comes in, but that's a whole bunch of bullshit by itself." Chet sighed.

By the time he had finished speaking, Nora had already parked her car in front of the therapist's office. She turned to Chet, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel in impatience. "Out. Now."

Chet rolled his eyes and scurried out of the car, mumbling something incoherently. He waved goodbye to Nora and entered the office.

"Hello, Chester. It's been a while." The receptionist said, typing something in on her computer. Chet sighed at her sarcasm.

"Using sarcasm to hide the pain you feel, Sarah?" He asked, leaning against the wall.

"Ha. No, not by any means. Why would you think that?"

"You look awfully bored working here. Your wedding finger isn't on today, like every other day." Chet let a smile spread across his face.

"I had a fight with my husband. No big deal." Sarah shrugged her shoulders, arranging a bunch of papers in a pile. Chet opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Dr. Peter, his therapist.

"Chester Davies, please come in."

Chet pushed himself away from the wall and walked towards the office. He took a step inside and looked around, like it was his first time in here.

"Good morn-"

"You have a very interesting receptionist."

"Really? Why so?" Dr. Peter looked at him as he took a seat, fiddling with his fingers.

"She hides her pain behind a smile. She just had a fight with her husband, and she didn't wear her wedding ring today. To me, that means that she is too sensitive. She can't handle pain, yet, instead of letting loose, she keeps it all inside." Chet spoke, fumbling a bit with his words. Dr. Peter quickly wrote down on his notebook, nodding once in a while at what Chet had to say.

"That is a great observation, Mr. Davies. But we are not here to speak of Sarah, but you."

"Oh yes, of course. My apologies."

"Tell me, how was your sleep last night? Was it peaceful, or restless?"

Chet closed his eyes. "More like in the middle."

"How so?" Dr. Peter questioned. He put his recording device on the table, holding tightly onto his silver pen and notebook. He observed Chet with intensity in his grey eyes; a sight that Chet hadn't seen before, since every time that question was to be asked, he would shut his eyes close.

"Well, it started out like this. I brushed my teeth and drank my milk, alright? Just like an obedient little boy. I was physically dragged to my bed since I refused to at first. So I guess that doesn't make me so obedient after all. Anyways, Mother threatened to hit me if I refused to go to bed on time again. She always says that, but doesn't really hit me.

"So, I closed my eyes. I was expecting to hear them again. But they were not there. I fell asleep, fortunately. That's when they awoke. They started laughing, and trying to wake me up, but I ignored them, like you told me to."

Dr. Peter nodded, taking down a couple of notes before looking up at the boy. He had his eyes open, the fluorescent lights overhead making them seem as bright as possible. Golden locks covered his forehead; skinny arms wrapped around his torso.

"And, tell me, Chet, do you feel like your state is improving as you continue to ignore those so called creatures?"

"No." Chet answered right away. He watched as Dr. Peter's eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion, anger clouding his eyes.

"I guess that was not the right answer." Chet sighed, running his hands through his hair angrily.

"It's just make me worse, you know? I can't ignore them all my life."

"Chet, son, listen to me. It's not normal. You can't go on pretending that these creatures underneath your bed are real, because they aren't. You are distancing yourself from people, which doesn't help your social skills at all."

It was hard for Chet to process everything Dr. Peter had to tell him. He sat there, his lips open in a small 'o' formation.

Chet felt the anger and frustration bubble up inside of him. He let out a ear deafening scream, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Dr. Peter looked at him in confusion. What the hell is wrong with this kid? He stood up and walked to Chet, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I think it's time for you to leave, Mr. Davies."



Chet slammed the door behind him, the whole house shaking at the force of it. He ran up to his room, his mother right behind, just to be greeted by his old friends.

Their features were twisted into a sick smile, their skin rotting, and their eyes; black as coal, soullessly peering into his soul.

They stood there, ready to drag Chet, once again, into their dark world.