Nightmares

There is no room for fear or panic in our lives.

So many times have I wanted to sink down, clamp my hands over my head and beg for it to all just STOP!

But never is it seen in the day light. Never when others are around. That is when a brave face is put on, where things are forgotten and calmness can settle down on you. Perhaps it’s because in the day there are things to distract you, to take your mind off of it?

Walking down the empty and dark halls at night however, I have heard people many times, the oldest and youngest; shouting, screaming, gasping, thumps as they lash out. And the worst of all; shuddering crying.

Coming down the last few steps from the first floor to the hall, I saw the back of one person I had never imagined I would ever see upset. He was always so cheerful, so happy; laughing, messing around, bringing cheer to others, or just playing a spirit lifting tune on his pale wooden flute.

The bare floorboard my right foot was resting on gave a sharp creak.

He jumped and sprang to his feet, flying into a stance, his face lost in the darkness.

“It’s alright! It’s me Joe!” Making my palms glow softly, I brought them up to my face to bring it into sight and smiled gently, “Just me.”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping and let his fists fall back down his side, uncurling them.

“Can’t sleep?” I ventured, walking down the last few steps to be on the same level as him.

In the dim light of my still glowing hands I saw him look down at the last step we were standing on, his mouth glumly held together. He shook his head and sank to the floor, resting his legs on the cold floor of the hall and resting his elbows on his knees, his forearms hanging limply between them.

I paused, unsure of what to do. After an uneasy night I liked to walk around the empty halls, trying to ignore what had woken me and focus on other things, or make my way up to Nathan. Should I continue my wonderings, or stay to see if I could help? He hadn’t told me to go away, but he hadn’t said to stay either.

Or maybe I should just get Rosa?

“You have nightmares don’t you Heather?” Joe said plainly; bringing his head up to look at me.

Well, I had my answer now.

“Course. Everyone does.” I replied simply, bending to sit down, leaning against the wall and facing him at a right angle.

He nodded wordlessly, as if accepting something, looking back down between his arms at the floor.

“Have you ever had to fear your power Heather?”

Confused by the odd question, I asked, “Teleporting? Or my other one?”

“Both.” He said; his voice devoid of emotion again, not looking at me.

“…Sometimes.” I said honestly, “Not my teleporting, but my photokinesis – yer. It’s dangerous if I use it against a Bot.”

“But you’ve never hurt anyone with it?” His voice dipped to a whisper.

“No – but Joe.” I leant forwards away from the wall, gazing at him intently, “Neither have you!”

He chuckled darkly, surprising me. I had never heard him laugh like that before in all the years I had known him.

“You’re forgetting teleporting isn’t my real power. You remember what I was like for the first few months here.”

“Joe,” I was alarmed and scared by this new personality he seemed to have developed. Shifting along the step to sit at his side, I lay a hand on his closest shoulder, “Just because you had your power changed does not make it anything less. So what you burnt a few things – that’s in the past! You’re a teleporter now!”

He turned me finally, and chuckled in that disturbing way again, “Heather, are you forgetting that along with you, and almost the rest of our year, I gave second degree burns to!? Heck, I almost set alight to the school every day!”

“And did we ever berate you for it?!” I was getting slightly annoyed now, not to mention even more confused, “Not once did we hate you for it! Yes, we might have whimpered a bit in pain – but we never blamed you! It was obvious you couldn’t control it! Joe,” I gripped his shoulder hard, “What’s brought this on? What’s wrong?”

He was still beside me, the dark hiding his face but I could hear his shaky breathing as he fought to control his emotions. I heard him swallow hard and take in a sharp but deep breath, “I remembered something from when I was little.” He said in a rush.

“Something about your powers?”

He nodded down at his feet, “I’d forgotten about it until now. I fell down one of the stairs between the levels. I was about six. Fell onto my mum. I tried getting off her as quickly as I could but my foot was stuck in a gap behind the stairs. Her skin got so badly burnt, from me trying to get off of her and then her working my foot out. Then, probably because I couldn’t stop thinking about it before I went to sleep, I dreamt my power changed back, and I burnt down the school! People were getting trapped but I couldn’t get them out without hurting them more! And Rosa….” He was shuddering again, unable to contoinue. He turned his face away from mine, to face the wall, and I knew it was to hide the fact he was crying.

“Joe,” I said gently, I attentively put my arm around his shoulders, “Joe, you couldn’t help it. And it was just a nightmare, not real.” I gently pulled him closer, expecting for him to resist, but he leant towards me and curled up to my shoulder, chocking on sobs.

Nightmares, and memories can shake even the strongest person up; scaring them because they showed them the thing they feared most. As small children we run or shout to our parents, drawing in on simply their presence, letting them comfort us and helping us forget the horrible moment. All it takes is a kiss, a cuddle and reassurance, and we are able to forget. Growing older we develop defiance, telling ourselves we can deal with it on our own, and there is no need for such a childish display of fear. We hold it to ourselves; ignoring it and forcing it to go away, pushing it the back of our minds. Older still, we almost revert back again, seeking comfort from someone we hold close, because at that time, we are able to realize what the reason for the fright was, which can sometimes be even more forbidding.

In our lives, we may fight half of our lives, be strong and commanding, but it draws us equally close, developing friendships which will never be broken, letting us willing put ourselves in danger to help the other. Or simple help them with a fear when they are confused and on their own.

The next morning just before combat lessons, after taking Joe to Rosa for the rest of the night, Joe smiled and nodded his head to me. It was all the thanks I needed, because I had been there, and knew I would undoubtedly would again. And knew how such a small and silent jester could help.