Chapter Fourteen

The next day when Leslie and Herb visited Tracy at the hospital, they were in the corridor close to Tracy’s room talking to her doctor. They easily heard Tracy in her room screaming, “No, I can’t sleep! He’s here! If I sleep, I die!” Her doctor turned to face Leslie and sighed.

“It’s apparent to us that she thinks she sees Connor. And she’s afraid that if she sleeps, she’ll dream of him and he’ll kill her – you know, Freddy Krueger stuff,” explained the doctor and continued. “I think she should be treated specifically for the illness of delusions at Lungland Psychiatric Hospital,” he concluded and Herb sighed.

“I knew it. Your daughter, a fucking psycho,” he commented.

“Now, I don’t think she’s incompetent or anything – I just think she should see a psychiatrist who specializes in dream research. The best in the state is Doctor Charles Bolan.”

At the sound of the name, Leslie sighed. “Thank you, Doctor. We’ll see him soon,” she said and the doctor grinned.

“Uh, I suspected that you’d agree, so I took the liberty of calling him myself and setting up an appointment at two this afternoon,” he replied.

“Again, thank you. You are most kind.” Leslie had to fight the sigh a second time while fighting back the frustration.

Leslie had signed Tracy out of the hospital, picked up her papers, and then they headed out to Lungland.

Two o’clock approached and Tracy, Leslie, and Herb sat in Doctor Charles Bolan’s office. Bolan sat at his desk while studying the young woman with curiosity.

After a short eternity, he looked over at Leslie and Herb. “Mr. and Mrs. Jordan, would you mind waiting in the lobby while I ask Tracy some questions?” Bolan requested.

“Sure, why the hell not.” Leslie agreed and Tracy turned to her with a confused expression on her face at the manners her mother was showing.

Bolan eyed her with an emotionless face as they stood up and exited the office.

After the door clicked closed, Bolan turned all attention back on Tracy. “How do you feel – right now – Tracy?” he asked and she didn’t hesitate to answer the question.

“Scared,” came her answer.

He looked directly into her brown eyes. “Of what?” he sat back in his maroon chair.

“You, me, sleep, and awakeness,” she answered and he formed a light grin on his middle-aged face.

“Well, that’s a short list,” he paused and then smiled. “But, it’s not at all unusual. Why are you afraid of sleep and awakeness?” he asked as she looked over at a picture of a man lying on a black couch and a doctor sitting in his chair taking notes, over to her left.

“Why aren’t you taking notes?” She tried to avoid the last question.

In his ten and a half years of his profession, Bolan had had plenty of patients try to avoid questions in all different and sometimes colorful ways.

He smiled at her. “I don’t need them – I remember everything.”

She knew that he had discovered her plan. “I’m afraid to sleep because he’ll be there, waiting for me. And, I’m afraid to stay awake because he sometimes shows up in the real world as well,” she finally answered.

“Who? Who’s this he?” he pressed further.

She hesitated for a moment and then answered, “A…Dreamkiller.”

Bolan remained emotionless. “But,” he said (he had heard that term used with one other patient, which deeply unnerved him) and Tracy smiled.

“I don’t expect you to believe anything I tell you, Doctor. But I see him in my dreams – my nightmares. He killed Connor and my friend, Dave,” she explained as a cold chill ran down Bolan’s back.

The story was getting way too familiar. He reached into one of his drawers in his desk and pulled out a piece of paper and signed his name at the bottom. “I would like it if you would stay here for a couple of weeks – I can have your parents pack you a suitcase,” he suggested and slid the paper over to her with his pen.

She leaned forward and signed her name below Bolan’s, and then they stood together and exited his office.

They met Leslie and Herb in the lobby and Tracy moved to her mother’s side. Bolan smiled and looked at Tracy. “Would you mind going up to room three twelve and waiting for me or one of my nurses?” he asked.

Tracy nodded and quietly headed in the direction of the stairs.

As they watched her enter the stairwell, Leslie turned to face Bolan with an icy glare. “Let’s cut all the bullshit, Charles. We both know that you give this profession a shitty name, but you’re supposedly one of the best. I don’t know how you managed to get out of the university with your name.” Leslie brought back years of anguish she was suffering and then fought to keep herself together. “How is my daughter?”

“She’s a bit incompetent. She thinks she is being hunted down by a real-life demon that derived from her dreams, and she’s so traumatized over Connor’s death that she has trouble parting real life and fiction. She thinks this is all true,” he explained, hesitated, then continued, “I want to keep her here for a little while – to do studies – and to help her. It’s a shame – she’s really a bright girl,” Bolan said, and almost as an afterthought, “She’s much like her sister.”

The knife had been twisted in her chest. “Fuck you, Charles.”

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There was a pause in action as Herb watched the two of them stare at one another.

“All right,” Leslie agreed. “But if this is like the last time, so help me God,”

Quickly defending himself, “Hey, we weren’t expecting that to’ve happened with her. But I give you my word – Tracy will not suffer the same fate as her sister. I promise.” Herb said and Leslie sighed.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she commented.

Tracy had no difficulty finding room three twelve. It was a rather small room – perhaps half the size of her bedroom back at home. Home, she thought. I probably will never see home again.

Boredom crept upon her as she stood there and so she decided on walking out into the corridor and noticed the door to room three eleven stood open.

A girl sat on the floor in her doorway. The girl seemed to have been older than Tracy – perhaps almost five years.

The young red haired woman looked up and noticed Tracy. She had a disturbed look on her innocent face.

They stared at one another for a while before Tracy broke the trance. “I’m Tracy Kingston,” she said in a quiet voice.

“Welcome to the D.R. I’m Steve,” said an older voice from down the corridor.

Tracy turned and looked at the rather muscular young man who stood at the other end of the corridor in front of his own door.

“Hi.” Tracy greeted and Steve pointed to a sign over at Tracy’s side.

“See it? Says D.R. It’s supposed to mean Dream Research. But, to us faggots, all it means is Dream Rejects.” Steve explained and Tracy smiled. “So, you joining us, or what?” he asked and Tracy shrugged.

“Guess so,” she answered.

Both Steve and the other girl looked at one another, and then looked back at Tracy with confused expressions.

“Ah, Tracy, I see you’ve become acquainted with some of the other good kids.” Bolan said as he approached them and looked over at Steve.

Steve grinned and grabbed his crotch. “Suck this,” he said, then entered his room and closed the door behind him.

Tracy was on the verge of laughing out loud, but held it back as she turned to face him. “Vulgar, isn’t he? Seriously, though, he’s a really good kid. Just…disturbed.” Bolan explained.

“Bullshit! You’re the only one around here that’s disturbed – and you know it,” the girl that inhabited room three eleven shouted.

Both Tracy and Bolan turned to face the woman. “That’s Laura,” he announced and looked at her stringy hair. “She usually keeps her hair in front of her face. She shouldn’t, you know.” Bolan said to Tracy.

Laura gave Bolan a sneer and slammed her door shut to them.

Tracy turned to Bolan, this time not hiding her smile. “They really like you don’t they?” she commented.

“Guess so,” he agreed and escorted her back into her room. “There are several rules here,” he began.

“Aren’t there always?” she replied with a light grin.

“Right. First – lights are out by ten – eleven on the weekends,” he explained and Tracy sighed.

“And the second?”

“Only that there be no fighting whatsoever,” he replied.

“All right,” she agreed without argument.

Bolan smiled. That was easier than I thought it would have been. Most people put a fight forward, he thought. “Good. I’ll tell you what: Why don’t you get settled in here – get used to it – and you’ll have your clothes tomorrow morning,” he said and she sighed again.

“All right,” she agreed and then he left her alone after giving her one final smile.

The next day, Rick went to visit Tracy. He was annoyed by the fact that he couldn’t be in her room. “I don’t see why you can’t have visitors in there,” he replied and she shrugged.

“This place is pretty fucked up,” she said with a sorrowful grin.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” he asked and she shook her head.

“No. You?” she answered.

He frowned as he looked at the other inmates of the hospital which were being visited by loved ones. “Not long enough for anything to’ve happened,” he finally answered.

Tracy leaned forward as they sat on a red couch. “Look, we can’t fall asleep. Not until I can get an answer. I’m trying to get help from Doctor Bolan. I don’t think he believes me, though,” she explained.

“Keep trying,” he said.

Three o’clock arrived and Bolan had explained to Tracy earlier that she had to attend a meeting. She entered a room and found Steve, Laura, and three other kids around their age, and Bolan.

“Welcome to another session. Before we begin, I’d like you all to meet Tracy Kingston, who will be joining us for a little while.” Bolan began and turned to look at an older African-American boy. “That’s Vincent.”

“Hi.” Tracy greeted with a smile.

“Welcome to the fucking shithole,” came Vincent’s greeting without looking up from his thumbnail.

“Thanks.” Tracy commented.

“This is Allen.” Bolan gestured to a younger boy in a chair to his left.

Allen had long black-as-night hair, and Tracy noticed that he was hand-cuffed to the chair.

“Hi,” she said to him.

Allen had a sad look on his young face, but he moved his right wrist in a little wave.

She grinned and felt sorry for him – no matter what type of boy he was.

“And this is Britany.” Bolan said as he smiled to the girl to his right.

She was attractive, Tracy had to admit. She had long brunette hair that was pulled back into a single braid.

“Hi.” Tracy said with a smile.

“Hi,” was the friendly greeting Britany gave forth.

She doesn’t seem to belong here, Tracy thought.

“And, you’ve already met Steve and Laura.” Bolan said as she smiled over at the other two.

“Now that we’ve all met, I’m going to try a new experiment. I want to hypnotize one of you and you’re going to tell us what you see. It’s as easy as that.” Bolan explained.

And then Tracy heard a peculiar voice in her head which said “volunteer.” The voice sounded very familiar. It sounded like the voice of…

Rick, she thought. But how?

Tracy looked up at Bolan. “I’d like to try,” she said with a smile on her face.

Bolan returned the girl’s smile with one of his own. “All right,” he said and she and Britany exchanged seats.

“Okay, Tracy. I’d like you to close your eyes. Just listen to the sound of my voice and relax. Forget everything but the sound of my voice. Now, as you begin to relax, I want you to remember everything that happened before you tried to hurt yourself. I’m going to start counting backwards from five to zero, and when I reach zero you will tell me exactly what happened.”

Tracy nodded; her breathing slow and regular.

“I’m going to start counting now. Five…four…three…two…one…zero…”

“I just woke up from a nightmare…I’m very sweaty and hot,” said Tracy, her eyes now lightly closed and her features perfectly relaxed. “I get up and go to the bathroom. Then I see him…He’s here! It’s not over! Connor didn’t kill him after all!” she is now screaming. “He picks me up. I cut him, but I cut myself, too. I scream. My mom runs in and I’m all alone.” Now, Tracy is calm once again.

“Tracy, I’m going to start counting backwards from five to zero again. When I reach zero, you will awaken and remember everything. Five…four…three… two… one…zero,”

Tracy abruptly opened her eyes. She looked around, then at Bolan. “Well, am I crazy, or what?” she asked.