Insomnia (22 page)

“Yes. I sat there, watching her. You need to believe me. I see things—things that I don’t want to be real, that can’t be. Like I didn’t fall asleep at the wheel … I saw him, the dark side of me, standing in the road in front of me. Somehow I made myself get in that accident.” I grabbed her chin and brought her eyes up to meet mine. “Whether I killed Freeburg or not, I tried to. Don’t you see? In his dream, I wanted to. I’m not even sure which parts of his dream were memory and which were fantasy, but either way, I ended his life. I’m dangerous.”

Her hazel eyes stared back at me, but instead of the fear I expected to feel, there was anger. They flashed, and the mist around me rumbled with thunder.

“No. I don’t believe it and I never will. You’re all kinds of messed up, but you aren’t a threat to anyone but yourself. We’re all dangerous. We hurt others all the time without meaning to. Even if you did kill him, you were in
a dream
. You could never know it would carry over into reality. You’d never hurt someone intentionally.” Her jaw was set and she held my hand tight in both of hers. “I know you.”

“How could you?” I sighed and pressed my chin into my chest. “I don’t even know me anymore.”

“Well, I do. So maybe you should trust someone else’s instincts for a change.” Her voice softened and her anger changed to kindness. “Let me help you.”

Looking into her eyes, I knew she would never believe I could hurt anyone. Nothing I said would convince her of who I really was or what I was really capable of. There was only one thing left to do, only one way to protect her.

I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into my chest. The relief I felt from her was tainted by suspicion, and it almost made me laugh. She knew me better than I’d ever suspected—but not as well as she thought.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered into her hair, breathing in the scent of her, feeling her in my arms for probably the last time. She lifted her chin from my chest in confusion. I released the iron grip I was holding myself in and savored the moment. Her lips were so close and so perfect they dragged me in, and I kissed her again—there was a drive to it now, a need, an urgency. I hated myself for everything I’d done, hated Darkness for making it impossible for me to be with her.

Addie sighed and melted against me, both of us forgetting everything but each other. My blood pumped through my body with extraordinary speed, bringing every piece of me to life in ways I’d never felt before. The world, my worries, the dreams, all fell away until nothing else existed.

My breath came in ragged puffs when I finally managed to pull away. She smiled at me, and I felt her trust stab through me like a sword, opening me up and leaving my insides vulnerable and exposed. I tucked one tangled auburn curl behind her ear and kissed her cheek. “I’m sorry,” I muttered against the soft skin in front of her ear. “Goodbye, Addie.”

Then I let go and rolled quickly away from her. I couldn’t risk her anymore—or Finn or Mia—any of them. I doubted I could find out the truth about Dr. Freeburg—I might never know if I caused his death, and I’d have to live with that.

There was only one way to know the truth about how dangerous I was: the threatening e-mails that were sent to Mia. If I’d sent those, then I was beyond help, beyond control. I’d have to take some kind of action to be certain I couldn’t hurt anyone ever again. I needed to know now, before I put my friends any more at risk.

“Parker?” she whispered. It only took an instant for Addie to understand. Tears poured down her cheeks. The mist formed solid clouds churning around us and the rain came. I was only inches away, but she couldn’t see me unless I touched her.

The pain in her heart hit me with such force I gasped for breath. It was followed swiftly by a fear that I didn’t understand. Maybe she was afraid of me. Even though I deserved it, it cut my soul. She was the one who had faith when I didn’t. Knowing she was afraid filled me with a despair that threatened to break down my plan, if only to reassure her—to make her believe in me again.

“Don’t leave me,” Addie choked out in barely recognizable gasps. “Not like this, not by choice.”

Her fear was of losing me.

I took both my hands and tucked them under my thighs, pinning them to the ground. Her emotions were shattering my resolve into a million pieces, but I couldn’t let them take control. I would protect her.

Addie reached out with her hands and they passed right through me. It was nothing more than a warm breeze. I pushed down on my hands harder, forcing them to stay put.

I felt her shift in emotions before I even saw it in her face. She was angry. I could handle that. Let her be angry. Her anger didn’t make me want to throw myself in front of a bus. After everything I’d done, to her and everyone around me, I deserved more than anger. I deserved hatred, but that didn’t come.

She stomped around yelling my name over and over, along with a few colorful words I’d never heard her use in the real world. The rain had an occasional burst of lightning, but it didn’t take long to fizzle out.

At the end, she curled into a small ball a few feet away from me and cried. It was miserable watching her, seeing the pain I could cause even when my intentions were good. Her feelings of abandonment were overwhelming. I’d felt this way when Dad never came back. It was the worst kind of pain I’d ever experienced. It was what Mom must’ve felt too.

And now I’d done it to Addie—I was no better than him.

I stretched out on the soft cloudy substance, only an inch away but refusing to touch her. I made myself watch the pain I’d caused. I deserved punishment for what I’d done, for everything I’d done.

The rain came in a steady downpour. I licked my lips and was surprised to find them salty. I couldn’t tell if it was the rain or my own tears mixing with the water.

twenty-eight

The morning sunlight streamed through the blinds of the hospital window. I rolled away from it and tried to close my eyes again, but the image of Addie crying appeared and they flew back open. With every blink, she returned. Her tortured face was imprinted on the insides of my eyelids like an after-image from looking directly at the sun.

I grabbed the remote and adjusted my bed to an upright position. The machines humming in the silence made me shiver. There was only one possible plan at this point. I needed to get home and get to my computer.

We’re all dangerous.

Addie’s words bounced around inside my head.

We hurt others all the time without meaning to.
Even if you did kill him, you were in a dream.
You could never know it would carry over into reality.
You’d never hurt someone intentionally.

She could be right. I hadn’t believed it possible to hurt a Dreamer, and I still didn’t know for sure if I did. It didn’t matter, though; I’d never try it again. The question was—could I make that kind of promise? Even if I never hurt anyone, how much control did Darkness have over me? Could he hurt someone even though I didn’t want to? I couldn’t risk it.

The e-mails were truly the only thing I could think of, the only way to be certain of his power. Someone else could’ve created that address to frame me for stalking Mia. Or I created it—
Darkness
created it. Cold sweat ran from my pores at the thought. If I could access the account—if it was a password that only made sense to me—then I’d know Darkness was the monster chasing Mia.

And I’d have to deal with the horror I’d become.

I looked around at my empty hospital room. Usually I enjoyed being alone, but after Addie’s dream it was like a unified confirmation from everyone in my life that I didn’t deserve visitors. Like they all finally understood what I was and they wanted nothing to do with me. It didn’t make sense, and I knew they didn’t actually feel that way, but a big part of me was starting to believe they should. I tugged off the heart monitors and blood pressure cuff, everything that tied me to this place.

The machines went wild and the door to my room open-ed. Patti rushed in and gave an aggravated sigh when she realized I’d unplugged everything again. “You feel all right?” she asked, flipping off the machines beeping around me.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Just tired of being tied down.”

My door swung open again and I barely suppressed a groan as Addie stepped through it. Her hair was slightly frizzed on one side, making it obvious she’d rolled out of bed and come straight here. Her eyes were red, puffy, and accusing.

Of course, the one time when it would have come in handy for someone to forget their dream, it was clear she hadn’t.

“That’s fine,” Patti was saying. “You’ll probably be going home in an hour or so anyway.” She turned to Addie. “Let me know if he has any problems.”

I snorted at the nurse’s choice of words, and she glared at me. I held up my hands in surrender as she walked out the door.

Silently, Addie pulled a chair next to the bed, but I could-n’t meet her eyes. The pain there sent ice shards through my spine and into my heart. For a few agonizing minutes, she didn’t say anything. When her voice finally came it was hoarse and hollow.

“Don’t
ever
do that to me again.”

“Addie, you don’t understand.” My words came out more like a groan. I was protecting her, whether she could see it or not.

“Freeburg was the monster, Parker. Not you.” Her voice was pleading. “You’re not even sure if you killed him.”

“And I’m the one who has to live with not knowing, Addie—
me
,” I mumbled without looking up. “Can you honestly say you’d be fine in my position?”

She fell silent.

“I need you to let me figure things out on my own for a bit.” I stared at the divots in the white ceiling above me.

“It doesn’t matter whether we’re together or not.” Addie leaned forward, trying to make me look at her, but I couldn’t. I knew if I did, I’d give in. “Parker, you can’t run away from this—not from me.”

I gathered all the strength I had and withdrew all emotion from my eyes. If I had to hurt Addie to protect her, I would. Turning, I stared her straight in the eye.

“There is nothing between—”

The door to my room opened and my mom walked in with a stack of papers in her hands. She was followed by a much older man in a long white coat. I thought I’d seen him in one of my hazy awakenings.

“Oh, hello, Addie.” My mom actually winced when she glanced at her. “Oh no, honey, you haven’t been here all night, have you?”

Addie patted one side of her hair and shook her head. All at once, she seemed embarrassed. On the verge of tears, she reached down and squeezed my hand with a frown and a slight shake of her head. The message was clear—we weren’t done. She glanced at my mom, then hurried from the room.

Mom raised her eyebrows at me, but I shrugged. She smiled and her entire body lit up.

“Good news.” She indicated the doctor. “Dr. Rees says you’re ready to come home now.”

Dr. Rees walked over to the bed. He lifted up a miniature flashlight and checked my eyes, and then he hit my knees with his ridiculous little hammer. My leg jerked on command. As he spoke, he pulled off a couple heart monitors, removed my IV, and gave me a cotton ball to stop the bleeding.

“Are you feeling any pain, champ?”

I flinched. I hadn’t been called “champ” since I was about six. The man meant well, but it grated on my already raw nerves. I needed to get out of here.

“Just a headache.”

He nodded and looked me over one more time. “That’s to be expected.” He turned back to Mom and signed one of the papers she held. “He should probably stay down and rest for another week or so, keep the strain on his body to a minimum while his brain recovers.”

I stifled a laugh and Mom sent me a look. My sense of humor was becoming as twisted as the rest of me.

“Sounds do-able.” Mom shook his hand and he headed out the door. “Ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Sucking in a lungful of air, I ignored the ripple of terror that moved from my brain to my spine. This was it.

I stood up from the bed, forcing my feet to move. Mom stood in the hall while I got dressed and gathered my stuff. A giant bulldozer of pain crushed me when I picked up the get-well card from Addie and Finn.

It was time to stop hiding from my own worst enemy—myself. I needed to know if I was responsible for the threats Mia had received. Whether I’d killed Dr. Freeburg or not, I would find out if I had the strength to keep Darkness at bay, to keep control. If I didn’t, then I had to be stopped.

I faced the empty hospital room and clicked off the light.

twenty-nine

My fingers produced a strange rattling noise as they shook the keys. I couldn’t make them behave. They didn’t want to type the right combination any more than I did. When the keyboard shuddered off the desk onto my lap, I put it back and reclined in my chair, propping my bare feet up on the computer tower. I needed to calm down. There was no backing out now.

The phone rang in the living room yet again and I heard Mom pick it up.

“Hello?” she answered. “I’m sorry. Parker isn’t feeling up to having visitors yet.” I heard her sigh as she listened. “I know. I’ll tell him you called.”

Obviously it was Finn or Addie. She thought I was asleep or she might’ve come in to tell me they wanted to talk to me … again. It was the fifth time one of them had stopped by or called since I’d turned off my cell phone when we’d
gotten home from the hospital that morning. But Mom didn’t seem to mind screening their many calls and visits for me. There was some kind of unwritten rule that when your kid has a near-death experience, they get whatever they want for a while. And, really, wanting to be alone and get some rest wasn’t asking for much.

I took three deep breaths and sat back up. Pressing my wrists firmly into the keyboard pad seemed to still the shaking a bit. One clumsy finger strike at a time, I typed the e-mail address in the login box. Each click echoed like a pounding gavel in my mind.

My soccer jersey hung from a hook on the back of my door. The eight was printed in ominous black over the vertical blue and yellow stripes. I omitted the 1 from my normal address, leaving only the 8. I tentatively tried to guess what Darkness might use as a password.

Darkness
—no

Mia
—no

Watcher
—no

I only had one more guess before the security default would lock the account for an hour. Darkness laughed morbidly from the back of my mind. What else might it be? Out of frustration, I entered the password for my normal e-mail address:
s0cc3r
. One word flashed across the screen.

LOADING.

That single word sent me spinning, gasping for air. I jammed my finger into the power button on the monitor before anything could come up. Still, I could feel the secret e-mails tugging at me from behind the dark screen.

More air, I needed more air. I scrambled to my bed and slammed my fists against the window. Then I hit it with the only other thing I could reach, a soccer trophy from last year off my desk. Again and again, I beat the tiny brass soccer player against the glass until I heard it crack, and then it wasn’t in my way anymore. The air in my room seemed impossibly thin; each breath was a struggle.

It was true. Darkness was the stalker. He’d sent Mia the e-mails. No,
I
did. Whether I was aware of him or not, could control him or not, he was me.

Images of the past few weeks floated like ghosts in the tomb of my mind, a barren wasteland where they hovered and plagued but never held still long enough for me to push them away. Flashes haunted me: Finn, his cheek already swelling as he glared at me from his locker; Mia, cowering with blood blossoming from her head; Addie, sobbing and screaming for me in her dream until her throat was raw.

Then the images burst through the flood gates I’d carefully erected to protect myself, one pounding over the next: Mia’s parents melting in the blaze; Darkness standing in the road with his maniacal smile; me watching Mia through her window; Dr. Freeburg running his hand up Mia’s leg; the bloody paperweight in my hand; Darkness bashing Mia’s head until hot, red blood was all I could see. They wouldn’t leave me. They were my constant company.

And there he was, leaning against the wall in the corner of my room. His cold eyes seemed to confirm everything I’d suspected for so long. My control was an illusion. He had the real power—always.

“So, now you think you know all my secrets?” Darkness sneered and shook his head. “You make things so easy.”

Pounding sounded on my door. It was locked. Somewhere I recognized the sound of Mom’s voice, yelling about a key. Mom sounded scared. I wondered if she knew she was safer out there than in here with me. Near the window I heard a horrible howling. It was outside, or maybe in my mind. Perhaps it was the sound Dr. Freeburg made when I killed him.

I leaned out the window and threw up into the bushes. The howling stopped. Only then did I realize that the terrible noise had come from me.

The door burst open and my mom was next to me, pulling me away from the window. She pushed me back on the bed, speaking in soft tones.

“Parker! Oh no, oh no.” She grabbed a towel from the bottom of my bed and wrapped it around my hands. That was good. Someone needed to tie me up … lock me away so everyone was safe. But it was just to stop the blood coming from the cuts on my arms. Why was I bleeding? Was it my blood or someone else’s?

Didn’t she know about all the other blood on my hands? The pain I’d caused? Couldn’t she stop that?

“No. No. It’s okay. Shh, it’s okay.” Her face was wet as she knelt next to me, warm brown eyes staring into mine. The muscle in her cheek flexed and I could see the fear behind her trembling hands. She was trying to be strong, always strong. “It’s only a nightmare. It will pass. Shh.”

I wanted to tell her to run, to get away from me as fast as she could, but I was weak. Words were past me, so far away I couldn’t reach them. My hands and arms were still bleeding a little. Blood covered me inside and out: my clothes, my sheets, my thoughts.

Darkness stood in the back of the room. He watched us. I closed my eyes and breathed the smell of my mom, a combination of peppermint gum and rose lotion that always signaled home for me. I tried to absorb it, willing it to wash all my thoughts away.

To wash Darkness away.

My eyes were closed but I wasn’t sleeping. Time was a distorted abstract that didn’t matter anymore. The last two days I’d spent mostly watching Mom’s dreams, watching the white walls of my void, or in bed pretending to be asleep. My mom’s dreams were filled with worry about me. They tumbled me in guilt and refused to release me until morning. Still, they were better than the nightmare my life had become.

The bandages on my arms itched. My hands were healing faster, but there were nicks and scratches all over me. Half a cardboard box covered the hole where my window used to be. I could have just opened it. Not my most brilliant moment, or my sanest for that matter.

I’d caught up on my sleep during my hospital stay, so my more-rested mind refused to give up the way I wanted it to. It wanted a plan, and my tattered emotions couldn’t present a valid argument against it. Denial was getting me nowhere. Neither was bashing the window with a trophy, cutting my arms up, and puking—although it’d been worth a try.

One fact kept bobbing back up to the surface like a body that wasn’t tied down properly. I needed to make my decisions now, when I was still rested. It was the only way to be sure I had control.

Sitting up in bed, I slipped on a pair of shoes. The house was quiet and I needed some fresh air to think. If I could sneak past Mom, or if she was out somewhere, I could go to the back porch and breathe for a minute.

I stood up and a shudder ran through me. It happened every minute or so, like clockwork. Nothing I did could stop it. My body wanted to rid itself of the foul creature inside it. It wanted me gone, and I wished I could oblige. I’d probably already killed one person, and the only thing I could do to even begin to make amends before I was gone would be to make sure I didn’t kill anyone else.

I passed through the kitchen on my way to the bathroom. The note on the table said Mom went to the store, so I had a few minutes to myself. In the bathroom, I tried to keep my eyes closed as much as possible. One glance in the mirror brought on another shudder. My skin had a weird greenish tinge, and in spite of the extra sleep I’d gotten, my blue eyes were pale against the dark hollows beneath them. I looked like death. Maybe I was death.

Shuffling out the back door, I pulled out one of the black wrought-iron chairs on the deck and slumped into it. The metal was frigid even through my sweats, but my mind felt clearer and more focused from the cold. I rubbed my hands over my arms and wished the sun would come out from behind the clouds for just a few minutes before it set against the horizon.

Okay, no more stalling. I needed a plan. The way I saw it, I had three options. I could run away, confess to the police, or kill myself.

I rapped my knuckles against the iron tabletop and shook my head. I’d spent too long fighting to keep myself alive for suicide to ever sound like a good plan. Of course, if that was the only way to keep from killing again, from killing Mia, then I would do it. But I’d prefer the other options first.

Confessing came with its own set of problems. The more I thought about it, the more I thought no one would believe me if I tried to confess. There was no real way to prove it. My confession would be full of holes big enough to run a hearse through.

My chair creaked as I leaned back. Assuming they could try me as an adult and get me convicted—both of which I doubted—and that they didn’t put me in the mental hospital—again, improbable—I couldn’t even begin to imagine how horrific it would be to experience the dreams of other criminals every night in jail.

The wind picked up and blew a few leaves around on the grass below. I shivered. Part of me felt like I deserved to watch the dreams of killers and thieves, a fitting punishment. The other part knew it would make things worse. My gut instinct told me that Darkness would take over more and more every day if I was surrounded by criminals, seeing their dreams and feeling their emotions.

No. I’d rather be dead than alive with Darkness in complete control.

Standing up, I walked to the railing, resting my bandaged arms on the worn wood. I was left with only one option. Running away was an unknown, but at least it would keep the people I cared about out of danger. Maybe to the desert or out in the woods, somewhere I wouldn’t be around anyone. My life, as I knew it anyway, was over.

I stood outside on the deck until my body ached from the cold, then came back inside to my computer and sat down. Emptiness filled me as I pushed the power button and the screen blazed to life. Every hope I’d ever had retreated to a safe place deep within as I opened up the first e-mail and started reading.

I kept expecting memories of the e-mails to surface now that I’d accepted the truth, but they didn’t. I wasn’t sure if I’d protected myself from them, or if Darkness just kept them private. Either way, I was grateful. Knowing he had that much power was enough. I didn’t need to remember any more than that.

Over the next hour, I forced myself to read every de-praved sentence I’d sent to Mia. Every word, every threat, every perverse declaration of love. I read them again and again until I was numb. They were filled with imagery from her nightmares—fire and blood. The only time she didn’t receive one was while I was in the hospital. She must have been terrified—should still be terrified.

I checked the date on the last one against the date in the corner of my computer screen—yesterday. Last night, while I’d been watching another of my mom’s worried dreams, sleeping in my own bed for the first time in nearly a week.

I coiled into myself, pulling my arms in a tight protective ball around my head until my body stopped shaking. Even now, I had less control than I thought.

Opening the last e-mail again, I pushed all my emotions away as I studied it. It was the shortest of all, only six words long.

Time is nigh—time to die

I forced away the little voice in my head that rebelled against the idea that these were
my
words. I couldn’t suffer under that delusion anymore. The intent was clear. Part of me, somewhere down deep that I didn’t want to know about, wanted Mia dead—and soon.

But why?
Why
would I want Mia dead? She was the only one who could save me.

It didn’t matter why. These weren’t my motivations; they belonged to Darkness. It should be a relief that at least part of my mind still didn’t understand the monster within me.

Then bubbles of fury broke through my numbness. He’d ruined everything. Stolen my last hope, my life, my friends, even my ability to die near those I loved. Darkness was my enemy, and I felt that driving desire to kill that I’d felt in Dr. Freeburg’s dream. I knew if I could, I would act on that instinct. I would kill Darkness. He was dangerous—to me and everyone around me. My eyes dropped to my hands. I gripped the keyboard in front of me so tight that the skin under my thumbnails turned purple.

But how do I fight an enemy that is inside me?

My anger exploded like a volcano and I threw my keyboard against the wall. Keys popped off like shards of glass, shooting across the room with lethal velocity only to bounce harmlessly to the floor—just like me. I had an enemy and I wanted to destroy him, but there was nothing I could do about it. I was powerless.

I turned off my computer and the lights as if in slow motion. Closing the door, I locked it and crumpled on the edge of my bed like wadded paper.

Accepting the truth brought a certain peace. When I had no power, why should I fight?

In the stillness, I let my mind go blank. My will retreated. No matter what death held, could it be worse than this?

The garage door opened and I heard Mom shuffling around the kitchen. Soon I would leave, and she would be alone. Images of her pain when Dad left pierced my mind like daggers, each one drawing more blood than the last. I sat up, taking a quick breath and letting the oxygen mend the wounds in my brain.

I couldn’t let her believe that I’d abandoned her too. Finn, Addie—none of them could think that. This was something I could control. I wouldn’t let Darkness hurt them any more than he already had.