Strange Beginnings// j.p.

Chapter 2- The Aftermath

     The months following Abe's death were brutal. He had left me his house, all his weapons, and all the money he had saved away in a secret bank account. It was quite a substantial amount, which infuriated Jacob's parents. They tried to have the house taken from me since I was underage, but the fact that I had a job and could provide for myself, the court declined their dispute against Abe's will. This upset them, but there was nothing they could do. 

Jacob spent the night over at my house more and more, both because he disliked being at home with his parents, who treated him like he was a breakable glass, and because he constantly had teeth-grinding, wake-up-screaming-in-your-own-sweat nightmares that he claimed only I could soothe. We spent many sleepless nights cuddled up together in my bed, him shaking and startling at every noise. During the days, I'd take him to his therapy sessions, where we'd meet his parents. They'd sit in the waiting room while I joined Jacob in the room for his sessions with his psychiatrist Dr. Golan. His parents didn't want me in there, claiming whatever he had to say was private, but Jacob insisted, and they relented when Dr. Golan mentioned it would be good for Jacob to keep a support system close to him in his time of need. So I'd join him for every hour-long session, holding his hand and trying my best to be the comforting presence he needed, all the while hiding from him how affected I was by the whole thing. I blamed myself for Abe's death, telling myself I should have believed him about the hollow, that I should have gotten home sooner. But I never told Jacob what I was thinking. 

He had been diagnosed with acute stress reaction and put on medication, so I knew I didn't need to give him more to worry about. We had fought a couple of times, over the cause of Abe's death. To get all the adults off his back, he had publicly accepted that Abe was killed by a pack of feral dogs, but I knew he didn't believe that because I knew he had seen what had killed Abe. When I tried to confront him about it, it resulted in a screaming match that left me crying and quite a few glasses and picture frames smashed. It didn't take us long to reconcile, however, because we both knew we needed each other. Jacob left school and got a private tutor, and he was allowed to quit his job at Smart-Aid, while I had to go on working and interacting with teenagers and teachers at school, as though I hadn't lost the only father I ever really knew that night. 

     I could tell Jacob was growing agitated with having to go see Dr. Golan and taking all his different medications. He began to fake the entries in his dream journal, making his dreams sound boring so the doctor would think he was getting better. Dr. Golan had figured it out though and confronted him about it in one session. "You haven't been having the nightmare at all Jacob?" To which Jacob said no, a total lie. "No sign of the creatures at all. Guess that means I'm getting better." Golan tapped his pen, contemplating this. "I hope you aren't telling me what you think I want to hear." Jacob looked away, his eyes darting around the room like they do when he gets nervous. "Of course I'm not." He said, but Dr. Golan kept pressing for the truth. "Let's talk real for a minute," he set his pen down and looked at Jake from over the rim of his glasses, "You're telling me you didn't have the nightmare once this week? And Alessandra can confirm this?" I knew Jake would confess. He'd always been a terrible liar, and that had only gotten worse with how anxious he'd gotten. "Okay, maybe I had it once." He admitted. Yeah, more like once a night. Jacob had told me what the dream was about, and if I dreamed that every night, I'd need a therapist too. He told me it always starts the same, and nothing really changes.  

     The three of us, Jacob, Abe, and myself, are all trapped in Abe's bedroom, with nothing but a vending machine inside. Apparently, the vending machine was full of weapons instead of snacks. In the dream, Abe is in his old army uniform, feeding the machine money and trying to buy a .45, but time is running out and the hollow outside the door is close to breaking in. The gun gets jammed in the machine and Abe can't reach it. The hollow is closer to breaking in. Jacob raises the BB gun he's holding and fires, but it doesn't do anything. The hollow breaks the glass and I try to attack it, but all I have is a brass letter opener, which doesn't do any good. I'm always taken by the hollow, and Jacob tells me he wakes in a panic every night with the sound of my screams mingling with his grandfather's last words, ringing through his ears. Even though his dream is always the same, Golan makes him say it out loud at every session, like he'll find a clue to what it all means, something he missed before. I didn't think it was fair to make Jacob relive it, but it wasn't my place to argue. I was just there for emotional support. "And in the dream, what is your grandfather saying?" Dr. Golan was asking.