Broken Doll {ManxMan}

CHAPTER 39

"I don't always remember the nightmares. Most of the time it's just one reoccurring dream. I always wake up screaming because of it, and when I've calmed down it's like I forget how to speak completely for a little. Tobias always asks if I want to talk about it, but I never can. It's not really like I don't want to, logically I know talking will help, but for some reason I can never get myself to actually explain what happens in the nightmare."

"What does happen?" Adalwolf asked the question openly, like he was giving me the opportunity to just change the subject, but I tried to collect my thoughts so I could speak.

"I'm strapped to a chair," I started, wringing my hands and picking at my nails, not lifting my head and staring at my lap, "My ankles are tied to the front feet with rope, and my wrists are strapped to the arms of the chair with these leather cuffs that are stapled to the arms. They're both tight, and I can see bruises forming on my wrists because of it. There's another leather belt across my chest to limit my movement, and there's a bar gag in my mouth. My jaw is hurting, I can hear a faucet dripping, it's almost entirely dark, and..."

I trailed off and Adalwolf urged me gently to continue, "Take your time."

"There's a mirror standing up in front of me," I explained, turning my hands so the palms were up, "I can see my reflection, but I don't recognize myself because of the blood."

"What blood?"

"On my face," one hand lifted to my face, "streaking down it. It's dark, flaking, I can't tell where it's coming from. I can hear a voice going, who are you, who are you, but I can't answer because of the gag... and because I don't even know who I am. It's always like I'm watching someone else in the mirror who just... sort of looks like me. I can feel, and see in the mirror, another rope coming around my throat, and another voice telling me to let go, and I start to panic."

"Why?"

"I don't want to let go," I admitted, "I don't want to die."

"Do you know who's standing behind you with the rope?" Adalwolf asked, "Is it Bay?"

I shook my head, "I don't know, I never see their face, and their voice is always... distorted. It sounds like Bay, then it sounds like my father, then it's so distorted it's like I'm listening to white noise... and I think that's when the dream gets really bad. The voices around me become a blur, and suddenly I'm alone, there's no one else with me, and I realize I'm doing these things to myself."

"Are you still in the chair?"

"No, I'm on my knees, there's no chair, but there are still bindings around my wrists," I held my hands up to stare at the scars around my wrists, "I'm kneeling in front of the mirror, pressing my hands against it... it's cold, and I can see in the reflection... light... I look different again, and... Tobias is there, in the reflection. When I look over my shoulder, he's gone, it's nothing but darkness. He's still in the mirror. The other me, my reflection, suddenly looks so much happier, and I get... so mad. Why can't that be me? It is me, but I'm on the wrong side, the wrong side of the mirror."

"You break it," Adalwolf guessed, and somehow it made me feel better that I didn't have to say it myself.

I nodded, "I shatter it. Punch my fists into it, and it breaks into shards, falls around me, and I fall with them, through midair, everything still completely black. At that point I'm just screaming, for help, for Tobias, for... for Bay, or for anyone, but no one answers and I just keep falling farther and farther."

I stopped and closed my eyes to give myself a minute to calm down, clenching my shaking hands together. It was difficult to talk about, but I was already pleased with myself for getting so much out. Tobias had been so eager for me to hold therapy sessions with Adalwolf, and logically I knew it would be good for me in the long run, but so far it honestly didn't feel like I was getting anywhere.