Beyond -- Chapter 1

The office was modestly decorated and consisted of a wooden desk, a desktop computer, a bookshelf crammed full with textbooks, and two black plush chairs, which, for convenience, had been moved to the center of the room.

Ayden sat in of one of these. His eyes wandered from the framed certificates on the wall, to the row of miniature cacti on the windowsill, and finally, to the woman whom sat across from him. Her blond hair cascaded over her shoulders as she flipped through the handwritten pages resting on her lap.

Jane Ashdale, the school’s guidance counselor, was in her early thirties. Her white blouse was decorated with a pin of the school’s mascot—a beaver—on her right breast pocket.

When she looked up, it was her eyes that told him they had passed the warm-up phase of their session and fallen into their routine. Her voice, as always, was soft as fallen snow.

“Ayden, last time, you told me about the dreams you’ve been having. Are these getting any better?”

Droplets of water dripped from his bottle of grape flavored Gatorade. He peeled off some of the packaging, rubbing the mushed paper between his fingers.

“I still have them sometimes but a lot less now.”

“Are these the same ones you had when you were younger?”

Ayden nodded and already knew the follow-up question before it left her lips.

“Can you describe the dream to me?”

He cleared his throat, almost certain that his precise answer was somewhere in her notes, probably open before her.

“I dream that I’m flying over mountains. Then, I lose control and start falling into a large black pit. And I keep falling. I don’t stop until I wake up.”

He saw her nibbling at the end of her fountain pen as she scanned the cursive writing of black and red with such intensity as a chess player would a chess board.

“There were a few times when you told me about your family vacation from eight years ago.”

“Ten years ago,” he corrected her.

“Right, ten years ago”—she scribbled something in curly penmanship—“and your sister was the one who drew the one winning ticket.”

Ayden couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, Anne’s always lucky at those kinds of things.”

“Well, the next time I buy the lotto, tell her to buy the ticket for me.”

Ayden smiled. She and mom are probably at the airport already.

“And during that vacation,” Jane said lowering her voice, “you experienced something… something very traumatic for any seven-year-old. Do you see any parallels between your dreams and what happened back then?”

Ayden was about to answer when a picture caught his gaze. Bridged on an aluminum frame, the photograph showed the young woman in hiking gear hoisted between the branches of a tall tree—a dense forest in the background.

He took a deep breath. “That was a long time ago. I don’t really see how it can. And honestly, I can’t remember everything that happened.”

She nodded understandingly. “You know, sometimes these things affect us on a subconscious level. And we don’t even know how strongly it can influence us. That’s usually how phobias are born.

“Take me for example.” She crossed her legs, shifted in her seat, and then uncrossed them again.

“I hate clowns. I don’t know why it is I hate them. And I don’t really recall having a bad experience with them. All I know is that somewhere along the line of going to a few circuses, something must have went wrong, and that impression—“

A flurry of images suddenly flashed before his eyes.

A dark forest. Trees sprawling skywards. Luminous blossoms.

He felt submerged in them. Like a mirage, the sight of the school counselor blurred, her voice drowned out. He clenched the cushions on his armrests, focusing on the stitching of the textile material… before slowly, the room returned to focus.

Taking a sip from the sports drink, he felt the cool liquid seep down his parched throat—and found her staring at him, an eyebrow raised.

“Sorry, what was the question?”

“Okay… Let’s try something different,” she said with a tinge of disappointment. “Why don’t you tell me what you can remember from that incident and maybe we can find something that we missed before… that we can even relate to your dreams.”

“I don’t think there’s anything new to add,” Ayden said bluntly. ”I think I told you about that a few times already.”

She leaned forward in her chair. “Yes, you have but repetition always helps. It can remind us of details we didn’t even know are still with us.”

His protest was stemmed by her hand on his arm.

“Come on Ayden, for me.”

He stared into her hazel eyes and then took another gulp of Gatorade. “Well, my family was on a vacation ten years ago. Like you already said, it was a grand prize at a raffle that my sister won. We arrived by a boat cruise. And on our second day, we went to the beach. My sister and I decided to play hide-and-seek. Instead of hiding at the beach, I hid in the nearby jungle. It was stupid… and I got lost.”

“And then…”

He inhaled deep.

“And then I was abducted by the natives that lived there. The police said they didn’t know that the tribe still existed. No one has seen them for decades… but apparently, they still were.”

She looked directly into his eyes, more closely than ever, with a gleam of determination.“And what happened after… after when they seized you.”

Ayden felt his throat tighten. “I don’t remember,” he said, a beat too quickly.

“You can’t recall a single detail?” she asked, leaning forward in her chair. Their knees were almost touching. “Nothing at all?”

“No. I can’t,” he said with a definite tone.

Normally, this is when she stopped probing—when she changed the subject to something like the weather or sports. But this time, her gaze remained uncompromised, and he sensed there was something different about her.

“So from the time between when you were abducted to when the police found you on the beach, you can’t recall a single detail?”

Ayden felt images swirl together anew. The silhouette of the forest shifted into a cold cave. High-pitched slashes turned to echoes of chanting and drumming.

He jerked forward in his seat, hands gripping the armrest. Moisture on his forehead trickled down in single drops.

“I can’t remember anything,” he said through clenched teeth, his voice almost pleading.

“Not where they brought you, how many there were, if they took anything from you. None of it?”

His heart rate picked up as the chanting grew louder, faster. A flash of light followed, blinding him, as an electrifying pain drilled into his back. Something snapped inside him.

“How many times do you want me to say it? NO. I DON’T REMEMBER! I have no idea why those people would take me. I have no idea what they did to me.”

He shot up from his seat.

“And while we’re at it, I thought you’re here to help me. Not interrogate me like I’m some sort of criminal and mock me when I can’t answer your damn questions. Yes, they abducted me. Yes, they probably hurt me. And yes, it’s affecting me now! Is that what you want to hear?! Does that make you feel better that you uncovered the root of my problems?!”

An inner rage boiled inside him as he glared at her. She had shrunk to the back of her seat. It was when he saw tears forming in her eyes that he realized his anger wasn’t directed towards her. In fact, it wasn’t directed at anyone. It was just a mix of emotions that came unbound, like the buildup of water in an old dam. And those sudden images added the last few drops needed for the rush of water to break free.

Slowly, he fell back in his seat. He set down his Gatorade that he had been clenching with a death grip. Half its contents had spilled on the floor.

Regret surfaced in her eyes as they met his. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“I’m so sorry, Ayden. I… I just wanted to help,” she said, blinking hard. “I thought if you recall something, it would help you. I thought if I pushed a little you would remember. I got carried away.”

Ayden nodded and murmured his own apologies.

She sniffed and dabbed at the corner of her eyes.

“Ivy league colleges can really bring out the worst in you.” She gave a weak smile. “From now, I promise not to intrude into things you don’t want to talk about.”

Her phone vibrated on her wooden desk, signaling that it was five PM, the end of their session.

On his way out, she gave his shoulders a firm squeeze.

“I know there’s a lot pressure at your age—with school, friends, and family. Everything can seem so… overwhelming. I hope you’ll feel better. If there’s anything I can help you with, you can talk to me anytime.”

Her sincerity made him feel even worse for yelling at her. But he knew that one day, like others before her, her smile would change. Her lips would be firmly pressed together and her eyes would no longer radiate the same way. Then their sessions would become merely a formal gesture; something a patient received when all treatments have failed and they are left on their own, for better or for worse.

He didn’t know if he welcomed that day.

“Thanks for the Gatorade,” he said.

“Anytime.”

They parted ways as he walked to the school’s main entrance. It was a Friday and the place was completed deserted. He strolled past posters of raffles, of fundraisers and sport team tryouts that covered the bulletin boards. Not a single space was left empty.

From the midst, one poster momentarily caught his eye. A red corsage glued to a white ribbon was fixed on the upper right corner of a deep blue background. A photograph of sandy beaches was shown in its center. Below, a sentence was written in silver glitter: Prom is only two months away! Don’t miss it! Get your tickets now!

Outside, the first few droplets of March rain began to fall. The soft tapping grew to a pitter-patter as the rain drops droned on the two remaining cars in the parking lot.

“So are you still sane enough to wander about here or do we have to send you to an asylum soon?”

The voice belonged to a short and slightly chubby boy. He sat at the stairs of the entrance; his orange hair blew in the wind like autumn leaves. A pair of glasses with a thick black rim sat awkwardly above his freckled nose. Behind them, a pair of blue eyes flashed in amusement.

“Funny Charlie,” Ayden said. “I guess you’ll find out whether or not I murder you on our way home.”

There was a reason that Charlie was his best friend at school. Assigned to show him around on his first day, Charlie taught him all the ins and outs—such as: pick the chicken nuggets if the cafeteria had them, don’t try to block Josh Wellington in football. But most important of all: go to the local comic book store every Friday night.

And as Ayden’s mother saw the need for the school’s counseling, the all-too-well-known rumors began to spread. The few friends he made began to distance themselves away from him. The only person who really stuck around was Charlie.

“Sooooo, you up for board games tonight? I still need to kick your butt for last time”, Charlie said, unable to hide his excitement. “Afterwards, I’ll even treat you to celebrate my victory at the new Dunkin Doughnuts.”

Out of all the things in the universe, Charlie had two vices: board games, and doughnuts.

“Sorry, I can’t. I have to work tonight.”

“Oh come on. This is the second time in a row that you’re bailing on me”, he whined. “It’s Friday. Fridays are reserved for board games, doughnuts and beating nerds at League of Legends.”

Ayden chuckled at the irony. Yet despite his height, weight, and questionable choice of past time activities, the eleventh grader was more confident than anyone he had ever met, to the point that he asked a total of fourteen girls to prom.

Literally. Fourteen.

“Since you’re not going to come later, I might as well ask you the million dollar question now.”

“Don’t say it, don’t say it,” Ayden begged.

“Have you asked Jenny yet?”

He said it. It was the question that Ayden dreaded.

“Asked her to what?” he asked, purposefully inspecting the array of birch trees as if golden orbs hung from their thin branches.

“Hello? Earth to Ayden. To prom, what else? Didn’t you see the flyer? It’s only two months away.”

Ayden sighed, “No I haven’t asked her”, wishing Charlie would drop the topic.

Instead, his reaction was if Ayden had told him the codes to activate a nuclear bomb.

“Duuuuuude you have to! It’s going to be epic. And if you show up alone, it’ll be super awkward when I’m there with my date.”

Ayden’s eyes widened with disbelief. “Erica said yes?!”

“No, she rejected me, and very publicly so. Buuuuuut, rumor has it that Johanna is dying, literally dying to go to prom with me. With passion like, it would just be cruel to say no to her.”

Ayden snickered. Johanna was a tenth grader, two years younger than him and a year younger than Charlie. With a knack for math and a love for cheerleading, he doubted that Charlie would have a shot with her. But knowing his friend, it was useless to argue with him on such things.

“I hate to break it to you Charlie. Even though I don’t know Johanna well… I doubt that she finds bowling balls sexy.”

“Oh, burn. Well if you don’t ask Jenny soon, maybe I’ll just start some rumors about you two.”

“Don’t you dare!” Ayden shot back, swinging a playful punch at Charlie whom sidestepped and nearly tripped off the curb.

“Come on Ayden, we all know you want to have a chance alone with Jenny.”

“No, shut up.”

“…alone with her on Prom night.”

“Seriously, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to remind Johanna about the time when Josh put laxative in your coke.”

Charlie stared back, his bright blue eyes unfazed. “Go ahead. That was truly a memorable April fool’s. I doubt that you could tell the story convincingly since you needed to be there.”

Ayden threw up his hands in surrender. “There’s just no way at beating you at this, is there?”

As they passed the gym, they saw a group of cheerleaders seek shelter from the rain. They were all in uniform—orange and white—and circled another girl as she proudly showed off a luxurious white dress, still freshly wrapped in a plastic cover.

Charlie shouted at the group without warning.

“Hey Johanna!”

A girl with hazel hair looked up but quickly turned back to her clique. Laugher erupted from them.

“See, she’s totally into me.”

Ayden shook his head.

Charlie was definitely one of a kind.