"what do you dream of Toby?"  

"Water, water everywhere"  

"What colour is the water?" 

"Black, pitch black and its wild and crashing side to side" 

"Is there anything in the water?" 

"My sister and the fin folk"  

"who are the fin folk?"  

"The people cursed to live in the sea" 

"Why do they have your sister?" 

"She has red hair, the colour of fire, blood and the sun. They worship that colour so they take her" 

"Toby....... Toby?...............  

Toby's eyes snapped open and the daylight filling the therapist's office woke him from his trance. He winced at first, he had gotten so use to darkness in those small seconds that light become a distant thing. The therapist stared at him through his gold rimmed glasses, face full of concern and, just a little bit of fear. Toby rubbed his eyes and face to help him wake up. He looked at Dr King and flashed a weak smile to try to reassure him he was ok.  

"So the nightmares are still persisting then?" Dr king asked  

"Yes, they always do"  

"But you’ve had similar ones to those before?" 

"Ever since my dad died in the storm yes"  

"Who told you about the fin folk Toby if you don’t mind me asking?"  

"It was a story read to us at school, it's part of folklore back at home. Sometimes they are beautiful creatures, women mostly who woo sailors or they are vengeful hideous beings who want nothing more than to drag people down to their watery graves. They hate us you see cause we have land and they don't." 

"You seem to be obsessed with the idea that they are out to hurt your family" 

Toby sighed. It always comes back to this, people assuming he actually believes in the fin folk, that he actually thinks they dragged Julia and his dad down to their watery graves. He didn’t believe that at all. They were just nightmares, nightmares that persisted him at night and left him screaming in his sleep. Once or twice though the nightmares seemed real and left him crying, believing for a few seconds that the finfolk had them and he needed to save them.  

"Tell me more about when the nightmares started, when your father died at sea." How many times must it come back to this thought Toby. Why do they always want to talk about the nightmares, the finfolk or the hysteric night terrors. Why never Julie? Why never about how much he missed her? All he wanted was to see her face again, hear her laugh, feel her warmth brighten up the room.  

Julie was the oldest. The brightest, strongest and the most beautiful twin. It seemed to be wherever Julie went, success and friendships were made. And he just lagged behind. It not like Toby didn’t have his own successes. He succeeded pretty well at school and got offered a place at nearby art academy when he submitted his work. But there was just something about Julie. It was either her coppery hair, pale cream skin or dark grey eyes that lured people into her warmth. She excelled in everything and travelled on and off the island at every chance she got because of either a new friend or the opportunity had been presented to her or just the whim of the moment. And Toby, despite everything, was just there at the side, minding his own business whilst his sister basked in her glory. Him and Julie were pretty similar. Same hair, eyes and skin and roughly around the same height yet Julie just seemed to glow much brighter than he did. He admitted though, he kind of did it deliberately. He struggles to keep a conversation going, because of the constant insomnia and night terrors, he was always tired so always found himself drifting away deep in thought. His mind thinking of the folklore surrounding the island that he called home. He kept his wardrobe dull in colours and allowed his hair to grow over his face. He didn’t dare make effort to make friends. He preferred to keep himself and rarely made day outings unless family relations were visiting or something was needed from the shops for his mums Bed and Breakfast. He was twenty-two and could count on one hand how many dates he had gone on. The answer by the way was three. He had never had a serious relationship and didn't really wish to pursue the subject. He liked his own company. He had no other choice to prefer his own company. Insomnia makes a hermit out of you.  

But even so he had to answer the question. He learnt the hard way what happens when you don’t cooperate with therapists.  

"Me and Julie were both six when Dad died. He was a commercial fisherman and there was a storm. The boat they were on engine had broken down and it capsized. Out of the 10 men onboard, only two survived. Dad got lost overboard. His body was recovered three weeks later after getting washed ashore. About a month later, the nightmares started and I haven't been able to get a decent night sleep since."  

"So, you didn’t have trouble sleeping until sometime passed after your dad died. Anything you can think of as to why?" 

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"There was this book at school I was obsessed with. Talked about the folklore and myths surrounding Cragland and how it relates to other mythologies in other parts of Britain and the world. They had a hefty chapter on the finfolk and there was something in it about how finfolk liked to lure fishermen and sailors to their deaths and kidnapped people with red hair. We got our red hair from our Dad. His was really bright, pretty much orange. Ours is pretty dark red but it freaked me out when little. It just seemed so much more than coincidence at the time. I began to fear water, going near the sea and then the nightmares started."  

He watched Dr Kings weathered stoic face watch him back. He said it very blatantly like he had rehearsed the whole thing from a script. A script that had been repeated back and forth for the past sixteen years between different doctors, nurses, therapists and councillors. Dr king was a new therapist he knew who had just accepted a position here so he shouldn’t be too harsh on him but he just wanted to grab him buy the shoulders and beg him for stronger anti-depressants, sleeping pills and anti-anxiety medication. Anything to just make him go to sleep for more than three hours a night. That’s all he wanted. He didn't need to address the trauma of losing a father and a twin sister in a space of a decade to a stranger. He just wanted something to help him sleep better.  

"How did Julie die if you don’t mind me asking Toby?"  

Fucks sake he thought to himself. Here we go. He heaved his chest and sighed heavily. Getting impatient as he swayed side to side in the desk chair. Why was he sitting in a desk chair. There was a leather seat right next to him why did he pick the desk chair?  

"Julie is presumed dead" He said, correcting him. "There was never a body found but no evidence of foul play. She was on a ferry on the way back home while visiting a friend to go to some film or something. She was one of the only three people traveling on that boat. There was power cut or something on the ship I dunno something about a fuse blowing and it was very late at night so it was pitch black. The staff on the ferry told them all to stay inside but when they turned the power back on Julie was no longer there. Not that anyone noticed till the ferry docked. Her bag was found inside but her scarf recovered from a diving search a few days later. Someone mentioned they saw someone leave the room. A staff member thought they heard a splash. It's been nearly five years and no one has any answers as to what happened to her. The obvious one is that she fell overboard but I don’t believe that. Julie was a strong swimmer and the waters were calm that night and they weren't far from docking."  

He had to stop talking suddenly because he could feel his voice rising hotly and his fists forming tightly. He got so mad when thinking about the lack of evidence to support his sister drowned and yet that was the final ruling. Something happened to his sister that night and no one knew, not even him. But he refused to accept she was dead. The other one was that she did it deliberately. That was the latest one to start circulating around the island. In fact, that was why he was back in therapy again. Nightmares and the shock horror that docile Toby Wallace might lose his temper. It was at the bed and breakfast and he was helping his mum by waitressing. A gaggle of some of girls he used to be in school had come in for lunch which he didn't mind. They did it quite regularly and never really took much notice of him which, again, he didn't mind. What he did mind was when they started talking about Julie, in what they must of thought were the quietest of whispers. At first it was sympathies which cheered him slightly until the dark haired one Claire said with no effort whatsoever to keep out of earshot from him  

"It’s a shame but it looks like she probably topped herself. Who would of thought?!" Toby still has no recollection of how the plate left his hand nor how it ended it up smashing on the other side of the room. All he could remember was closing his eyes shut and the white-hot anger filling up his chest, limbs and mind. When he opened his eyes again, everyone in the day room was staring at him with wide horror- filled eyes and gaping mouths and the fragments of the white plate he had been clearing from a table now in a broken heap under the painting his mum made. His mum quickly forced him to call the doctors surgery after that. He understood why, he had never lost his temper like that before but there was a voice inside his head that whispered maliciously "Served her fucking right!" 

Eventually after speaking about death, his emotions, sleep patterns, diet, vices, dream patterns and habits. The session had drawn to a close and Toby was allowed to leave. Leaving that small room was like drawing in a breath of fresh air and he suddenly felt ten times lighter. He picked up his prescription for a new dose of anti-anxiety tablets at the local pharmacy in the town and headed on his way to the harbour. All along the way he saw and heard various information on the storm that was due to hit tonight.  

"Aye it's supposed to be the biggest storm to hit since sixty-seven?" He heard from a pair of gossiping middle aged women with their children in pushchairs.  

"A weather warning is being given tonight as the heaviest storm since 67 is due to hit sometime around ten in the evening. Police are begging people in the area to stay inside tonight......" He heard on a car radio. Even along the street you could see people preparing for the oncoming storm. Cafes were taking in any chairs and tables they had outside, sandwich signs folded and stacked away. Bins being chained to nearby lampposts or being placed in sheds from worrisome neighbours and trampolines getting tied down for a change in gardens. There wasn’t a single pair of clothing getting hung out to dry and any that was hung up were getting frantically yanked from housewives. He had even heard from some people that the local council were on the way chopping down any old trees in the nearby area that might pose as a threat. He wasn’t even sure if he was going to be able to make it to his appointment today as the council were unsure of what time to stop the ferries from leaving the dock at, thankfully they decided on seven in the evening.   

It didn't make him nervous getting onto boats anymore. What made him nervous was thinking that he was probably walking the same steps his sister did the night she disappeared.  

Where did you go Julie? He thought to himself as he drew out a cigarette from the pocket of his brown, worn trench coat. As he drew in the poisonous smoke he came face to face with his sister's face, grinning at him from the missing person poster from inside the window of the ticket office. Even the faded ink from the poster couldn’t lessen the impact of the striking green and intensity her eyes made. It was probably the first thing most people commented on whenever they met her.  

You had the world at your feet Julie. Why disappear?  

 All this he lamented on as he watched the heavy grey clouds darken, starting to bring in the strong wind and light spitting for the storm that was to come. He hated to think of someone hurting Julie, someone she may have rejected or a stalker but someone would have seen someone surely if that was the case. Nobody seemed to know.  A girl ready for the world, who could become anyone or anything, gone without a trace. Where did you go Julie?