What He Made Me

Chapter 2 - Nightmares & Him

Chapter 2 - Nightmares & Him:

I watch as figures circle my home, dancing with gleeful smiles upon their deathly beautiful faces.  These figures are inhumanly beautiful in a frightening deathly way. Their skin is as pale as the moon, flawless, and has a silver undertone, which glows slightly as they hold up their hands in the direction of my home and it spontaneously sets alight.

Their dark hair creates a strong contrast with their pale skin as they move with fluent graceful leaps and twists unnaturally fast around my home. Their dark eyes are what haunts me the most though, soulless and a terrifyingly dark black colour. Their eyes show no emotion or life as they murder my parents, but their mouths spread into evil grins.

I watch terrified, unable to move or tear my eyes away to look at my sister, there is nothing but these demons as they destroy my home and life. The nightmare breaks off as one of the demons, spins round and looks directly at me with a huge grin plastered across his spin-chilling face. Then a cold bitter wind attacks me and I'm suddenly facing my sister again, back in my original place viewing the country side watching as tears run down her face, the nightmare then continues into the same scene my memories hold.

As I lay here frozen and nailed down by my own brain's faults, I wonder. Did what happens in my nightmare really happen? Is that what Riley saw? The questions continue to fill my mind, but I quickly shoo them off. My nightmare is just that, a nightmare, a disgusting creation from my own demented and broken imagination. That couldn't off really happen, because for one, Riley would have told me.

We told each other everything. And, always have. Being twin sisters, losing our parents, being thrown from one foster family to the next, one care-home to another, for many years had led to us sharing an unbreakable bond.  We trust each other with everything, and only each other. Never letting anyone inside, because really what as the point?

Trust is such a fragile thing, easily broken, and when it is only pain follows. My sister I, learnt this early on in life, and realized the people we could trust were one another. We were inseparable, always stuck firmly to each other’s side

That is in till I killed her.

I know she's dead, that she didn't survive, because she has not visited me. And, I know that if she was alive she would have by now, that is unless she was in the same state as me. But, if so, I know my adoptive parents would have filled me in on her wellbeing, her progress or lack off, as they talk pointlessly to me. Hayley and John, our adoptive parents of three years, visit me frequently.

Hayley will hold my hand in her frail but warm ones, as they both talk to me for hours. They tell me about their going ons at work, or about how beautiful my little baby sister Miley is, how she said her first word today or how cute her babies laugh is. I haven't meet Miley yet, as Hayley gave birth to her as I still lay here, but I know they named her after Riley. This is yet another clue which has led me to the conclusion that my identical twin sister is dead.

They talk to me about pointless things, but never Riley. They talk to me mainly because the doctors say it could help bring me back, but I know it won't. I hear them, I force my wondering mind to focus and listen to them, but I can never reply.  I can never clasp Hayley's hand in return, or tell her that I love her too, or tell John that his silly boss should realize what a wonderful employ he has.  I just lay here in my comma, listening and reminiscing, and living through my nightmare over and over again.

But, sometimes, he visits, and when he does I fell more alive than I do any when else. I look forward to his visits, because his presence instantly pulls me away from all the tormenting questions I give myself or the nightmare I'm living through.  He sits at the side off my bed, as strokes my hair or simply places his strong but cold palm against my cheek.