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“It's not, Niklas, it is not real! It does not matter when they stopped being nightmares because they were just dreams, only dreams!” her tone grows louder, angrier and there's a thread of fear weaved through it.
“Then why are you afraid of saying it out loud?! If you don't think it's real, Suki, what the fuck are you scared of?! If they're just dreams...” but I don't get to finish the sentence before she rasps at me.
“After I killed my mother! Okay?!” She slaps her mouth shut and looks towards the door.
There it is.
“Don't worry about Connor, he probably put his headphones in when he heard us earlier.” Her other hand goes over her eyes and even in the moonlight I can see her cheeks grow red, but I don't give a fuck about her embarrassment right now. “What happened to the dreams after you killed your mother?”
She turns back to me, Connor suddenly forgotten. Sighing, she shakes her head.
“Even before that, they weren't necessarily nightmares anymore. There was only one thing that made them feel like nightmares, one element that terrified me. Darkness, torture, pain, madness, all wrapped up in this all-consuming bloodlust chasing me… always.” She pauses for a few seconds. “The night after I killed her and the dream came again it felt like... an awakening. A revelation.”
I can see it in her eyes, the hurt when she acknowledges this, a strange, pointless fear that I don't quite understand.
“The bloodlust was mine... The dream I had that night was explosive. I cannot explain it, everything around me caught fire as I was running away. Yet I ran as hard as I could away from the flames, but one touched me before I woke up, and it felt…” She takes a deep breath, exhaling loudly as her eyes close and a subtle moan vibrates through her. “Decadent. It felt decadent. A delicious depravity bursting out from my soul. A primordial need for violence.”
“So, the dreams simply showed you who you are, what your soul needs,” I acknowledge. Initially I thought that the dreams were about this need, this primal desire to be consumed, dominated. Yet they are about much more... a need for bloodshed at her own hands.
“No. This is where you are wrong, Niklas. I do not need it, and I certainly do not want it.”
“Yes, you do. And whatever ridiculous concept stops you from fully embracing it, will eventually crash and burn and you will finally be free. Now all that matters is whether you wish to control the burn or not.”
“I've seen it in my mother, Niklas. She crashed hard and burned even harder and unfortunately the flames didn't just touch her. It decimated everything around her and it destroyed her the moment they licked her soul. I have seen with my own eyes what happens when you let the crazy in and you are finally free.” Suki shakes her head violently, tears streak her cheeks, yet her eyes hold anger.
“Don't you think that if you were your mother it would have happened by now?! What lies inside of you, Suki… it's not the same monster. Don't insult your demons by comparing them to the sick woman she was. We both know your mother was mentally ill. You must see you are different.”
“The only reason I have not seen it is because I have not surrendered to it.”
“That’s not how mental illness works. Stop lying to yourself.”
Actions speak louder than words and soon she will learn to accept the truth. Soon…
— ‡ —
We've been lying here in silence, calming our spirits, both aware that neither of us will back off.
“What happened to you that night? After we met?”
Her question startles me. All day I have been preparing myself for this specific moment, yet I was not expecting her to ask and it throws me off.
“I put my hands in my pockets, my hood up, and went home,” I sigh and look straight into her eyes, penetrating her with a stare I know she won't be able to break. I already ran through all the possible outcomes of this conversation and I think I anticipate which one will prevail. “And the next evening I broke up with my girlfriend.”
The weight of those words crashes down on her with a force that physically shakes her body. I can see the threads knotting in her mind until the thought is complete and the conclusion is reached. Her eyes try to break away from mine, she blinks fast, her breathing becomes erratic, and I see the panic settling in. In one quick move I’m on top, straddling her and I trap her wrists on the pillow on either side of her head.
“Breathe, Suki.” I lean over and whisper in her ear.
A sharp breath hitches, swallowing a sob as I hold her beneath me and her body tremors. I lift my head and look at her, but her eyes are cloudy as she looks through me, her mind somewhere else.
“Suki, look at me!” my tone is rough and stern, yet she's too far away, trapped in thoughts that I need to pull her out of. “Look at me now!” I let go of one her wrists and wrap my hand around her throat, squeezing the sides until I can see her eyes losing life, yet she is fully numb.
“SUKI!” I rasp, my voice rough, bouncing from every wall in the room, my big hand squeezing her fragile little throat. As the life threatens to leave her body, as the pain takes over her mind and her lungs are crying for life, she comes back to me. She opens her mouth, forcing herself to take a breath, her eyes grow wide and the bright green I learned to crave fills her irises again.
Then I let go.
“My....” she mumbles something between strained breaths. “My fault,” she repeats and looks at me with so much pain and guilt in her eyes I truly feel the need to fucking slap it out of her.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I predicted this, I did and she is wrong.
