The Faulted

chapter six

"of course it's all in your mind, Harry. but why on earth should that mean it's not real?"

+

The air around me is cold. Freezing, actually, and my body is numbing out. There's a weightless feeling that overwhelms me suddenly and I know something is wrong.

The minute I open my eyes I want to scream, but my mouth is sealed. How did I get here?

I'm underwater, but why am I floating in the same place? My eyes dart around and I feel so small and vulnerable. Endless empty water surrounds me. I look up, but I can't see a surface.

Panic courses through me when I realize I haven't been breathing. I try to move, to swim upwards and I can't. It's like I'm paralyzed. My lungs feel like they're about to burst.

Something snakes around my ankle, something even colder than the freezing water. It startles me, making my blood turn to ice. My heart pounds even harder, ringing loudly in my ears. I'm not jusy afraid anymore, I'm beyond terrified.

"Come, Gail," the familiar voice says. It's really there this time. Not just in my head, I hear it talking, like it's in front of me. "Come with me."

It pulls me down faster, deeper into the darker and more terrifying part of this ocean. My lips involuntarily part, the water rushing in and suffocating me. I thrust my leg trying to shake it off me, swimming upwards despite the unbearable pain. It pulls me down even faster.

The water is sharp against my skin, like a hundred razors cutting through it. I scream.

"You're afraid of the pain, Gail."

I scream even louder, not caring if it was muffled, shaking with all my might.

"It'll go away if you stop trying. Give up."

"Just give up."

"It's easy. The hurt will go away."

"Give up Gail."

I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, closing my mouth. The pain becomes too much for me to even think about holding on any longer, my mouth and lungs filled with water. The rush of the water around me becomes too loud, and I know now I'm going to drown.

"Wake up! Gail, wake up!"

My eyes fly open and I sit up with a loud gasp for air, coughing violently with my hands wrapping around myself. But it wasn't freezing any more. It was actually a little too warm.

"Jesus!" Ryan exclaims. "Jesus, you scared the life out of me!"

"What-" I croak, my throat feeling sore. "What happened?"

"You were screaming your lungs out," he says. "And then you just stopped breathing."

Everything that happened was just a nightmare. I try to slow down my breathing, inhaling through my nose and exhaling through my mouth. I haven't had a nightmare like that for months.

"What time is it?" I whisper.

"It's two in the morning." Ryan lets out a long sigh, running both his hands over his face and through his hair. I sneak a glimpse at his tired eyes and wrinkled forehead. "Want me to stay with you a little?"

"No," I answer too quickly, startling Ryan. "No, it's okay. I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Ryan asks me warily. I nod at him.

"Definitely. I want to be alone right now, and you should sleep."

Alone.

I gulp, clenching and unclenching my fists, digging my fingernails sharply into my sweaty palms. I hate you, I say to it, I hate you.

"Right, well, if you need anything...." He trails off, but he doesn't need to finish. I nod to him again. "Right, okay. See you in the morning, Gail. Good night."

"Good night," I say, my voice small and quiet. Ryan turns switches the lamp off, leaving my room quietly and after the sound of the door closing, it falls completely silent.

"What do you want from me?" I ask softly, not to anyone in particular. To myself maybe, my mind.

Did you like your swim?

I scowl, looking around the room. The light from the street lamps highlight the outlines of everything in my room, nobody is here except me. Where is it?

Looking for me? Don't bother.

It laughs, the sound echoing in my mind hauntingly. I can't tell if it's a boy or a girl. I hear it, but not really. It's just there, a demon in the depths of my mind created to keep me company. It's not the kind of company I wanted. It's been there for as long as I could remember, but I've never actually seen it. I don't even know what it's called. It's just, it.

Still don't know huh? Thought you were smarter.

I shake my head. There's no way it's going to leave me alone. It couldn't hurt me anyway, it's not real. Everything is just in my mind.

I swing my legs over the bed, tossing the bed sheets to the side. When I look back, the whole bed is a mess. I quickly walk over to the small desk in the corner and pull out a small brown book.

It was my dream journal. They gave it to me when I was still in Albion, said it would help. I didn't expect I would use it, but it's almost completed. My fingers trace over the big tree carved onto the cover, inhaling deeply the smell of fresh leather.

I open it, writing down everything I could remember. The images flood back into my mind, the nightmare replaying in my head again. I get so caught up in my writing that I gasp loudly when my phone vibrates on my dresser very loudly. I reach out for the phone. An unknown number flashes on the screen.

I look down, confused. Who would call me at this time? I answer apprehensively.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Styles?" A gruff voice breathes into the phone.

"Um, no," I say slowly.

"Where is he?"

"Where is who?" I ask, even more confused.

"Mr. Styles called me from this number ma'am," the man says impatiently. "Where is he now?"

"You mean Harold?" I say. "I don't know, but this is my phone. Who are you?"

"Can you pass the message to him that I called and tell him to call me back?" He says, ignoring my question.

"Wait, I don't know who you are," I say.

"Thank you, ma'am." The line disconnects. Just like that.

I stare at the phone in my hand, debating whether or not I should tell Harold about this. If whoever this guy was called him at this time expecting Harold to answer, then maybe Harold was expecting a call from him, too.

But does Harold even have a phone? No, I remember him telling Miles he was grounded.

I decide on giving him the message tomorrow, we both have camp after school anyway, I could tell him there.

My eyes feel heavy. I lay back down on my bed and shut my eyes, letting myself fall back to sleep as I think of many things, everything, all at once.

"Everything is just in my mind," I mumble quietly. But then why does it feel so real?