Nightmare on Third Street - Chapter Six

Dominic was quite reluctant to leave my side for the next few hours, but I could somehow understand what he was going through. I was fearful of being alone, myself, and did enjoy the company. I was shaking uncontrollably. Though the shaking wasn't physical, but mental, the effects were still the same. Bottom line was, I was rattled. I was seated in the living room, on my worn old navy blue couch, with my legs curled up, off of the floor. Dominic was nestled into my side, clutching at my arm. He was reluctant to let go of me, afraid something would happen if he did. I tried to help him break through this fear, but I couldn't; I was terrified myself, I couldn't really say anything truthful to him.

Ever since that episode in the kitchen, my head had been pounding in my ears painfully hard, and it seemed that this dreadful headache was only getting worse. Unfortunately, I was out of aspirin, and I didn't feel in any shape to drive. I sighed and started to push Dominic away from me so I could get up. I needed to go to the kitchen and get a wet rag; that sometimes helped my headaches. Truth was, I was reluctant to enter the kitchen, as that had been the place my episode had occurred in.

It wasn't like I was scared or anything, persay, but I didn't wish to enter that area so soon after what had happened. I was still frazzled by it. As I pushed Dominic away to stand, he clung tighter to my arm.

"Where are you going?" he asked in that quiet, childlike voice of his. He sounded fearful, and I wished I could ease his fears. It hurt to know that I had caused his fear, that I was the reason he was acting like this. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I assured him, brushing a few of his sandy bangs out of his face. "I promise. I'm just going to get a wet rag. I'll be right back." With that, I got to my feet and migrated toward the kitchen. I heard the couch cushions rustle, and heard the hurried footsteps of my brother as he followed after me. "You don't have to come," I said as I stopped and turned to face him. "I'll be fine."

He hesitated. "But..."

"Honestly," I said, giving a small, reassuring smile. "I'll be fine. Go sit down."

He sighed beneath his breath and nodded. Without another word, he turned on his heel and went back into the living room, where he sat down on the couch and watched me with watchful eyes. I sighed and continued into the kitchen. I felt his gaze on my back until I entered and rounded the corner.

Slowly, I walked toward the sink, where I grabbed a rag and wet it. I suppose I should have used warm water, like Mom used to when I woke her up in the middle of the night complaining of a headache when we had no aspirin, but my head felt hot to me for some reason. My eyes were burning, but I figured that was from not being able to blink during the 'episode', as I called it.

I put the rag down on the counter and stood there for a minute, staring at the far wall. My heart was racing wildly, keeping up with my shaky, uneven breaths. I was unnerved to be in the kitchen. In fact, it felt as if I felt unsure in my own house. I didn't feel safe here anymore, and it worried me. This house was mine, no one elses. I made the payments, I worked, I was in a band for extra cash and fun...this was MY house, no one elses. Mine.

The room felt so cold, so lonely. It made me shiver. At the moment, I hated this room of the house more than anything I had ever hated before. Memories of me in this room haunted me. The memories were of a time when I felt safe here, of a time before the phone calls, before the pain, before the nightmares, before the freezing...of a time when I was happy with this house. With my life.

I wasn't sure how long I stood there, staring at the faded yellow walls of the kitchen, but small footsteps broke through my clouded mind, and a small hand gripped my arm. I stiffened for a moment, before I shook my head, clearing my thoughts. Looking down, I saw Dominic looking at me worriedly.

"What's wrong?" I asked in a soft voice. My voice was strange, rough, hoarse, and sounded strange to my own ears. Dominic's eyes widened at the tone, and I blinked before clearing my throat. I tried again. "Are you okay?"

"...I'm fine," he said quietly. "Are you?" His eyes seemed to look through mine, into my soul. It was unnerving to say the least, especially from my brother. I had to look away. He took this as a sign that meant something was wrong, and clung to my arm a little tighter. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"M'fine," I said. It came out as a small sigh. "Honest. I was just thinking."

He looked at me for a long moment, before he lowered his gaze and sighed, nodding his head. "Okay--if you say so."

"I'm fine, Dom. Really. I promise."

"Okay."

The phone began to ring suddenly, and Dominic saw and felt me stiffen. I closed my eyes, praying that it wasn't that damned voice, that it wasn't going to bother me so soon after that episode. I was still too badly shaken, I couldn't take it at the moment. Slowly, I pulled away from Dominic and moved toward the phone. I had to answer it; what if it was Mom, asking about Dominic? If I didn't answer, she might get worried.

I didn't want anyone else getting worried because of me. Not if I could help it.

I plucked the phone up on the third ring and whispered a quiet, "Hello?"

There was a pause. "Bryan? Dude, are you okay? You sound strange," came Jake's voice, sounding worried.

I breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm okay," I said. "I've been getting prank calls all day. I was getting a little frustrated, is all." Dominic shot me a look, as if to say, "Liar. There were no prank calls, tell him the truth". I waved Dominic's worries off.

"Oh," said Jake, sounding relieved. "Cool, thought you were sick or somethin'. You still comin' to the game today?"

I winced. The game? I had forgotten all about it! I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was around four thirty, the concert was in four hours. "Erm..." I stuttered.

There was another pause. "Are you sure you're okay? You usually never hesitate for a game."

That was true, I pondered. I was usually in the moment they said 'soccer'. "I...Today's been sort of...off, for me, to say the least." It was a major understatement, I knew, but I didn't feel like telling him what was going on. I didn't wish to get him involved, it would only make him worry. I didn't need more people worrying about me.

"Don't worry about me," I said casually. "I'm just cranky. I'm hungry."

"Well, get something to eat, but not much, and we'll eat after we win the game." I could hear the smile in his voice.

I tried to sound cheerful, but it was such a struggle. "Yeah, we're totally going to win. We're going to kick the other team's asses."

Dominic was watching me with a guarded expression. I tried not to look at him for the time being. I didn't need him telling me what to do at the moment, I wasn't in the mood for that.

"Cool," said Jake with a chuckle. "Good to know that you're in this a hundred percent. The game's in a little over an hour at the park by your house. See ya there." He hung up.

I sighed and hung up, bringing the palm of my hand to my forehead, rubbing slightly. The pain was sharp, and I still had a game of soccer to play. Dominic was at my side soon enough, prodding my arm.

"Bryan? You okay?" he asked softly.

I nodded. "I'm okay. Just got a headache. I need to get some aspirin, but we don't have any." I moved back toward the counter and grabbed the wet rag, putting it to my head, in the spot where it was pounding the most.

"Go get some," Dominic said. "I'll go with you."

"No, I..." I trailed off, wondering if I should let him know how shaken I truly was. "I...don't feel like driving after...after what happened."

For a moment he was silent, then he said, "You're shaken, too."

"I...yeah."

"But...it...it won't happen again," he said softly, looking away. "Will it?" He looked so small, standing there. He looked so scared, so vulnerable. I walked toward him and pulled him into a hug.

"I can't say for sure," I murmured quietly. "I hope not, but I can't be sure, Dom. I'm sorry."

"But...you...it won't hurt you, will it?" His voice started to crack in the middle of his sentence.

"I...no," I said, shaking my head. I figured it was best to tell him a little lie to keep him from worrying. I wasn't sure if it would hurt me or not. So far, all I had was an irrational fear of the kitchen, a phobia if you will, and a raging headache that was making the room start to spin. But it could have been so much worse, I knew. I shivered as I remembered what had happened. I never wanted to think about it again.

"No?" he asked.

"No," I said. "I'll be okay."

He nodded into my chest and nuzzled into it a little further. Normally I didn't like this much physical contact in one day, but I didn't want to let go any more than he did. I was scared, there was no denying it.

I was terrified. I was terrified because I didn't know what was going on, or what was happening to me. Who was calling me? Why had I frozen like I had? Why had I had that pain yesterday?

And the worst part was, I didn't know what to do to stop it, to protect myself.