Night Terrors Chapter 1

There was a deafening pressure going on in his head, doubled with the pressing of his hands on his temples. Damian was sure his head was going to implode with all of the unbearable thoughts inside. It just wouldn't stop. It wouldn't go away. She was so close now, so close he could even smell her scent as though she were right before him.

Damian peered wide-eyed into the darkness around his bed. He was sure she was there at that moment. Somewhere, hidden, watching him with her gentle eyes. Cold sweat broke out on Damian's pale skin. Fear was crawling under his skin like some creepy and macabre, causing his legs to draw up to his chest with uncanny speed.

Outside, the first morning light was beginning to glow. The maroon curtains on the windows left Damian's room dark. He wished desperately for the morning to come faster. That light meant an escape from these nightly terrors. But the sun was still far off from rising, and the memory of Ophelia was haunting his room strongly.

Damian attempted to breathe calmly. He didn't understand why he was so afraid. Why should he be? If Ophelia was there, even as a spirit, he should have been glad. The pain of loosing her had been more than unbearable in these last six months.

Damian fumbled shakily in the dark, searching the nightstand beside his bed. He found the lamp and switched on the light so quickly that the lamp tipped over. The wobbling light showed that Damian was alone.

The room was a mess. Nothing really out of place for Damian. The room had been that way since Ophelia passed away. Damian just couldn’t bring himself to clean up after himself. Well, it’s not like he could do it even when Ophelia was around. She often nagged him for being such a pig. He wished he could still hear her nagging now.

Damian sat on the edge of the bed and held his head in his hands. He was suddenly wracked with a terrible headache. That was happening a lot more these days, along with the night terrors. He felt over the night stand and straightened the lamp. His hands were still shaking. He needed a cigarette badly.

He lit up as he stood in front of the window. The sunrise was coming. Relief spread over him. The night terrors were almost gone now. But he had more to do to get past all the darkness of the night that still lingered. He knew these little night terrors were about to get worse, so he had to find ways of escaping them quickly.

Damian spread the curtains as far as they would reach. His heart still beat hard in his chest. The light wasn’t covering all of the room. There were still pockets of shadows. It took all of his strength to not look into them, because he knew what he’d see. She’d be there like she always was. She’d have those dead eyes fixed on him.

The first time it happened, Damian had made the mistake of looking right into those eyes. Such horrible sensations spread over his mind and body; a chill of death, a shaking close to a seizure, and a feeling that he would never escape. He knew this must have been what Ophelia had experienced during her last moments. She had died with such pain. He could see it in her eyes when it happened.

Damian headed for the door. He couldn’t stay in the room any longer.

Out in the hallway, the darkness was stronger. Damian had the light on before he could let his imagination conjure up any images. Just a few feet away there was a pink door with little ladybugs painted on it. This was Lucy’s room, Damian’s daughter. She was fast asleep now, and wouldn’t be up for another two hours.

For a long moment, he seriously considered peeking in on her, just to see how pretty she looked while she slept. But so soon after his night terror, he couldn’t imagine how he’d react right now to how much she resembled her mother. He wasn’t sure how he’d see her in that moment.

No, now he needed to make a trip to the kitchen and find the vodka. He needed a good, strong drink as soon as possible.

The kitchen was slightly illuminated by the rising sun now. The light was sufficient. Damian found the tall bottle of liquor in the pantry. That’s where his mother-in-law kept it. She only drank rarely, and she still hadn’t noticed how low the contents were. This was Damian’s fifth time sneaking a drink in the past week. She was bound to discover the difference, but he didn’t care at the moment.

He got one of Lucy’s kiddy cups down from the cabinet and filled it to the top. Normally, he mixed the drink with some orange juice. Not this morning. He gulped it down frantically. He wanted to believe that it could numb him. But as he set the little plastic cup down on the table, he realized that the pain and fear had heightened.

That sensation was returning with full-blown speed. She stood no more than five feet away, looking right at him. She was as beautiful as ever, but there was a cold, dead look in her eyes. He couldn’t stop himself from looking into them again.

For the longest moment, there was no looking away. She had him frozen on the spot. And she moved towards him slowly.

He didn’t know how he did it, but he managed to turn away. He shut his eyes tight and grabbed the bottle, which shook violently under his hand. He didn’t bother with the stupid cup. He just poured the clear liquid down his throat, and drunk it so thirstily as though he was in the desert and it was water.

He knew she was still there, yet at the same time wasn’t. When he opened his eyes again, he couldn't see her anymore. But he could smell her perfume. His heart ached. That scent brought forth so many sweet memories, and he almost wanted to see her again.

Apparently, he'd been making some noise, because he could hear the sounds of footsteps coming from the other room. He knew his mother-in-law was awake and heading to the kitchen. She liked to sleep on the couch in the living room. Quickly, Damian gathered the bottle and stuffed it back in the pantry. He had just shut the door when Susan entered the room.

She looked much like her late-daughter. They both had that long, dark hair. Susan peered at Damian with sleepy eyes.

"Ah, I thought you were a cat on the counter." she mumbled.

Damian gave a weak smile. "No, it's just me."

Susan stumbled into the kitchen and headed for the pantry. Damian moved away from her quickly, careful to avoid her smelling the liquor on him.

"What're you doing up so early, hon'?" she asked as she grabbed a box of cereal. She was waking up more and more.

Damian rinsed out the cup and put it away. He wanted to get rid of all the evidence of his troubles, as well as keep himself busy. He didn't want Susan to know what was wrong with him. Loosing Ophelia had been hard for her. It was still hard for her. Damian didn't feel it was right to add any more pain to her burden. So he lied.

"Oh, just thirsty. Couldn't really sleep, either."

Susan nodded knowingly. She was known for her lack of sleep. Susan had always had a bit of an insomnia problem.

The light was breaking out satisfactorily now. Damian didn't want to return to his room, though. But he was feeling a little better, now with the effects of the vodka buzzing in his system.

Susan was quiet for a moment, but then she brought up a new subject. Well, it wasn't exactly new. She'd been after him for a month now about it.

"Are you going to look for a job today?"

Damian made an inaudible sigh, and tried not to get impatient. He lost his job right after Ophelia died. No one really questioned him then, because they all understood. Susan even extended a hand by allowing him and Lucy a place to stay in her house. She worked, and therefore took care of them.

But months had passed, and it had been agreed unanimously among Ophelia's family that Damian get back on his feet, if not for himself then for Lucy. Damian knew they were right, but it was getting harder to find any energy for that task. The grief was too intense.

But still, they got on him for it. Especially Susan. More and more, he could see where Ophelia got her nagging. With Susan, though, it felt more like his conscience hounding him. He found it hard to really face it, and even harder to be patient with it. But he calmed himself and answered her civilly.

"Yeah, I, uh, think I will. But later. I'll wait until Lucy goes off to school."

Susan gave him a brief look, and it spoke volumes of disbelief and disappointment, because she knew he was lying.

Damian looked away and started to pour himself a bowl of cereal. He felt ashamed, but also annoyed. He wished he could just be left alone. He was dealing with things in his own way.

Subconsciously, he knew his way was getting him into deeper trouble.