2. Nightmares

Haunted by their pasts, Frey and Rema fall further down the bloody rabbit hole and into their nightmares. But is a nightmare really a just dream if it existed once upon a time?

-Frey-

D****t, I'm f*****g tired... Those stupid b*****s didn't have a damn penny on them... Now I have nothing for food or coffee to keep me from sleeping.

'Just go to sleep... You know you can't make it much longer until you pass out on the sidewalk...'

They mock me. They want me to sleep just so they could haunt my dreams. Flashing images of blood, death, and darkness. Images of murder, of mistreatment, of my past, of everything I hate and everything I fear.  They push me to the edge. It seriously makes me want to blow my own head off sometimes.

'I've heard most people die if they don't sleep for ten days... That means you have, what? Three more days?'

"Where'd you hear that? Hell?" I mumble, not caring that I talk to myself out loud in public.

It laughs, one of the most bone-chilling laughs you'd ever hear. 'Will you stop calling me a demon? I'm your friend! The only one you have.'

"F**k off."

'Oh, but you'd be lonely.'

I roll my eyes, ignoring the voice in my head.  I have to figure something out quick before I end up passing out on the street.  There's too many people to try anything, I'd be sure to get caught.  I'm desperate, but I'm not stupid.  The only thing I can do is wait until dark in a few hours.  When there's less people I can find a target and I'll just have to hope they have money.

Just a few hours... I tell myself.

It's been two days since I've eaten.  I usually sacrifice food for caffeine.  I would rather be hungry than tired.  I bought some soda the night before, but ran out early this morning and now I feel sluggish. I'm tempted to lay down on the closest bench and sleep for days.

The hours go by so slowly and all I can do is wander around to keep myself from falling asleep. Finally, it gets dark and I search for somebody alone., in a dark and lonely street or alley where no one would notice anything.

It takes a while, but as I'm walking passed an alley a man waves me over.

He's wearing dirty and worn clothing. His face unshaven and hair a knotted mess.  His eyes bug out, looking around as if he's afraid he's being watched.  He wraps his sickly arms around himself, hunched over as he asks if I need anything.

Drug addict. A perfect target. Nobody would give a damn if this guy went missing or ended up dead. Nobody would probably even look for him.  He's also as shady as I am, making sure no one sees him and there's no one around.  That takes off half the risk.

I nod, suppressing my grin. I follow him further into the alley, making sure there's no cameras nearby.  I stand behind him as he digs through a beaten up backpack. My hand tightens on the hilt of the knife as I pull it out.

I don't take a second longer to think it over and jam the cold steel right into his back.  He joints like he was just struck by lightning and I yank it out and stab it again.  Blood flows down onto the floor and splatters on my hands.  I kick him onto his back and his bloodshot eyes stare at me in a dazed mixture of confusion and fear.  I stab him again and again in the chest until his struggling stops.

It was almost too easy.

I dig through the backpack and find about twenty crumpled bills, a bunch of trash and bags of needles and drugs.  I take the money and leave the rest. Then, I grab him under his arms and drag the body to the dumpster and throwing it in.  I could care less if he's found or not.  Nothing would come of it. Drug addicts, hookers, runaways, their cases always go cold.  Nobody ever gave a damn about them while they were alive, so no one will care about them while they're dead.


The first thing I get is a few energy drinks, and I chug one of them as soon as I get out of the store.  I then buy a cheap sandwich and eat it.  Once I get some food and caffeine in me, I feel better and just sit and try to relax for a while.  Although, it doesn't take long for the voices to start up again.


-Rema-

Kacia stumbles from the bathroom after throwing up for the last ten minutes and sits at the kitchen table, her hand on her forehead. "Coffee..." She groans.

I close the blinds for the sake of her headache and pour her a cup, setting it in front of her.

"Thanks... I can't even remember how I got home last night. Sorry if I woke you up..." She says, gulping the hot drink and waving her hand in front of her mouth after.

Just as I thought, she has no memory of my confession last night.  I think of that as a good thing, she'd probably freak out if she knew...  Thank god for her over-the-top drug use.

"It's fine... Just slow down on it..." I tell her, grabbing a cup for myself and joining her at the table.

"Easier said than done..." She replies with a smirk. "How was your night?"

"Fine." I lie, "Pretty normal."

"Get any big tips?"

"Not really. Tuesdays are slow..." I scratch my arm, wishing she'd change the subject.

"Oh s**t, it's Wednesday? I had work an hour ago." She curses, slamming her hand on the table. "Gotta sleep with the boss again... Great..."

I sigh, not sure how to respond to her.  She gets herself into these messes. Someone her age should be out of the whole party stage and not getting drunk and wasted on a Tuesday night.  Old habits die hard I suppose.  This girl's been to rehab three times, overdosed twice, and had at least three good friends die from the same s**t she's on and she still doesn't stop.

Then again, I'm not one to talk... I can't stop my habit either...

"Can't believe I slept until four..." She goes on, "I'm so stupid... That's it. I'm gonna stop."

She says that every damn time...  I don't even think she believes herself anymore.  I know tomorrow night she'll just go out and do it again...

"Well, I have to go to work in an hour and a half.  Want me to bring dinner home to you?" I ask.

"Nah, I'll just order something if I get hungry..." She waves her hand, drinking more coffee. "Thanks though."

I nod, finishing my coffee and getting up to take a shower.  I get dressed, straighten my hair and put on make up until I don't recognize myself anymore.  My natural curls straightened into silky sticks. So much make up I can feel it caked on my skin.  Clothes I would never see myself wearing five years ago on my body.  But that's how I make money... The more skin I show, the more make-up I wear, and the more perfect I look the bigger tips I'll get.  It's all I can do...


The music booms loud and the room smells like cheap cologne, cigars, and broken dreams.  I walk around like a mindless zombie, following whoever tells me to. My body seems to move on its on. A part of me feels disgust and wants to pull away, tell them all to f**k themselves and shove the paycheck up that pervert's a*s.  But I don't say a word, I just do what I have to until the people leave.  I'm left with glittered dollar bills, a few twenties, and a dirty feeling all over my skin.  The kind of feeling that makes me want to peel my flesh off or scratch until I bleed.

No amount of hot water can get rid of the stains. No amount of soap can wash the dirt off. It's under my skin. In my veins.  It makes me hate myself. Hate the mirror. Hate everything I am.  My whole life has turned into a living nightmare. It makes me want to cry, scream, and break things all at once.  I hate it.  I hate it so f*****g much.  No matter how many men say I'm beautiful, or sexy, or gorgeous... I know I'm just a w***e...

Author's Note

This chapter contains murder, mentions of drug use, mentions of mental illnesses, slight adult themes including sexual themes such as strip clubs and exotic dancers.

Reviews

[HeyJadeXO]

I love this story its an exciting mix of elements ! great work

[Sinbulvinter]

Thanks for reading it and reviewing. I'm glad you enjoy it. =)

[Coyote Poetry]

A well-written tale. I like the chapter. Gave strength to the characters and made them come alive for the reader.
"My whole life has turned into a living nightmare. It makes me want to cry, scream, and break things all at once. I hate it. I hate it so f*****g much. No matter how many men say I'm beautiful, or sexy, or gorgeous... I know I'm just a w***e..."
The above lines are solid. I like the realistic feel of your words. Thank you for sharing the amazing chapter.
Coyote

[Sinbulvinter]

Thank you. I'm glad you're enjoying it.

[Coyote Poetry]

I did and you are welcome.