“They’re hallucinations, Alice. You know that. You’ve suffered them long enough to know that sleep paralysis is just a dysfunction in your sleep cycle. You wake up physically, but your mind is still dreaming.”
A chortle escaped her throat. “Yeah, I’ll try telling myself that next time I’m unable to move while some wicked thing peers down at me with evil in its eyes. I’m sure it will make me feel so much better.”
Another slash of the tip of his pen across paper, blue ink swirling into patterns of words she couldn’t read and wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
“Let me ask you something.”
Alice glanced up, her mood light despite the nagging feeling that he would say something to bring her down again.
“When you left home to go to school, did you ever return to live there again? When you had problems in your career, was returning home an option?”
Confusion furrowed her brows. “Why does that matter?”
“Because it paints a clearer picture of your life before all of this, for me and for you. Maybe if we can understand where you were mentally and emotionally at the time Delilah disappeared, we can better understand why these dreams are the ones that particular event conjured.”
Her eyes rolled, but she played along. She could give him that in repayment of every frustration she was sure she’d caused in his life. “I think you’re barking up the wrong tree, Doc, but I’ll go along with it, if it makes you feel better about things.”
His lips pulled into a grin.
“But after that, I think it’s best we return to the dreams. It’s like you said, I’m running out of time. This session will be over soon.”
“That’s not what I meant, Alice.”
“I know,” she admitted. “Delilah is running out of time. And if I hurry, I might discover how to find her, how to save her before that time runs out and it’s too late.”
Staring at her with an expression that made it clear he was losing just a bit of the patience he’d always had, the doctor said nothing. He didn’t need to. The look behind his eyes and the manner in which his shoulders rolled back and his body refused to relax against his chair was as direct a response as anything he could have said.
“Fine,” she breathed out. “In answer to your question, no, I didn’t return home. Even when I was living off bullshit money after quitting my job at the hospital, even when I was bouncing between other jobs, I never went back there. It’s like I told you, my dad could barely take care of himself, and when I left he still had my mother and brother to manage. I wasn’t going to add to that.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“No,” she confessed, the dark cloud of panic finally settling over her shoulders now that the doctor had brought the memories of her early life back to the surface of her thoughts. “My father was an abusive ass. Both mentally and physically when he was drinking. And he was always drinking. Why do you even care about any of this? It has nothing to do with the dreams.”
“I care because I find it interesting.”
“Why?”
With his mouth pulled into a stern line, he settled back against his chair now that he had her running down the path he’d designed for her, his little mouse running a scientist’s maze.
“Because you started having nightmares based on one abusive relationship, and it took another to chase them away. Don’t you find that relevant? Impossible, even?”
Not having given much thought to the reasons behind her nightmares, she hadn’t made a connection between their cause and Max’ ability to silence them. It didn’t matter to her. All that mattered was that she’d had one peaceful night, one peaceful morning, a chance to wake up and smile rather than fight against some unseen force that existed completely in her mind. Shaking her head, she attempted to ignore the fact that the moment had been another manifestation in her head. But thinking about it now, she wanted to cry.
Perhaps that one solitary glimpse of being normal, of being able to find peace in sleep, had been nothing more than a cruel bit of torment… because it was something she’d never find in her waking life.
She couldn’t admit it to herself, and she certainly wouldn’t admit it to him.
“Maybe one monster is just scarier than the other,” she mused aloud.
“Or maybe,” the doctor countered, “that fact is more significant than you realize.”
The rim of his glasses flashed beneath the soft light when he sat forward to lock her eyes with his. “Maybe, it’s the key to understanding what these dreams are about. Tell me something, and be honest in your answer. Who did your father abuse when he’d been drinking? Was it the entire family? Your mother? Your sister? Your brother?”
Alice’s heart clenched in her chest, the truth trickling over her like acid now that he was releasing it from where it had been trapped in her mind. Her skin melted beneath the flow of toxic filth, falling away to reveal all the pain that had been hidden inside.
“Who, Alice?”
“Me,” she snapped, her teeth gnashing together from the bitter taste it left in her mouth. “Just me.”