Josh hadn’t realized it at first, because he had been so preoccupied by stripping his bed and bundling the sheets and blankets he’d dirtied, but the blotches of foreign skin and the spiral mark had returned to his arm. It wasn’t until he had made it all the way to the communal laundry room in the dorms that he saw the change. But it wasn’t the same change. The mark was the right way around this time, not an imprint, and it wasn’t quite so smudged either. Josh would have panicked, but he had seen the features fade before. He had thought they were permanent. And as he sat in the laundry room, he waited quietly in the dark for the skin to turn back to the proper color and for the traces of the mark to disappear.
Neither shift occurred. Not in the two hours that it took to clean his sheets. Not even a little. It wasn’t until Josh started to scratch as the skin that anything started to change. Just like how it had in the dream, the altered skin peeled off; though it wasn’t as easily removed or as painless of a process. When the peelings touched the floor they crumbled into nothing. And after Josh had scratched them all of, there was a lingering pink patch on his arm that felt raw like he’d just picked scab off early.
When Josh had returned to his apartment and set his room to rights, he finally picked up his phone. He was still trembling in the wake of his experience, but he wasn’t afraid. Not in the same way he had been the first time. That was the kind of fear that you only felt the first time, though you could never fully acclimate to it. What lingered within Josh was more akin to anxiety or paranoia, and it was closer to what he had experienced long after he had woken from the first dream.
With shaking hands, Josh sent a text to Sara. “It happened again.”
It was still early in the morning, not even four o’clock yet, so Josh didn’t expect an immediate response. But he knew that if he didn’t send the message then it would be harder to do later. If he waited he would be able to talk himself out of it, and he didn’t want to do that. Sara and Connor were safe, he trusted them, and they were willing to help with this problem that they also knew about. There was no risk of pulling either of them into the situation Josh now found himself in, torn between two realities, because they were already there.
To Josh’s surprise, a response text came only a few minutes after he sent his. “What happened? Another dream? Do you need someone to come over?”
“Why are you even awake right now?”
“My phone went off, so I checked it and there was your text.”
“Sorry. I didn’t think it would wake you up.”
“Forgiven. You still haven’t answered me. What’s going on?”
“I had another dream. It was a little different. But it was there and a lot worse.”
“That’s awful. Do you want one of us to head over?”
“Why is she trying so hard to get herself invited over…” Josh muttered to himself as he read the last text. He couldn’t sense or think of an ulterior motive, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t something else going on. He wasn’t entirely sure he didn’t want her over though. All the same, the sun hadn’t even risen yet and he didn’t want to ruin her or Connor’s day so early.
“I’ll manage.” Lingering on the thought of what he’d seen, Josh quickly followed up with, “Hey, Connor’s had his for a while longer than you, right?”
“Almost a year. Why?”
“I think I want to talk to him about it. I wonder if he’s had any similar experiences.”
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
“I don’t think so, and he probably would have told me… but maybe?”
“Can I come by tomorrow after classes wrap up then?” Josh didn’t want to be clingy, and he realized that he had spent most of the past several days in the penthouse, but there wasn’t really anywhere else to turn for answers.
“Yeah, come by any time. It’s nice to have company.”
It may not always be nice to have company, and he was sure Sara knew that when she had sent the text. But the right company made all the difference. And the more Josh thought about it, the more he realized that he considered Sara and Connor to be the right company more than most of the people he knew and called his friends. Everything else had been such a shallow relationship by comparison; which was both sad, and wonderful. Josh was sad that he had failed to create any better relationships up to that point. But it was wonderful to be around people that genuinely cared and took the time to coax him out of his shell. No one had really done that for him before, not even Kerry. Kerry had been more of a forced connection that was convenient and entertaining. Josh didn’t harbor any bad feelings for his roommate though; in fact, the concern that Kerry had shown the day before had been incredibly touching.. if not misguided.
“Oh, by the way… if you see Kerry, and you probably won’t… but if you do, let me know.” Josh wanted to apologize, but he doubted he’d have an opportunity for a few days. In the mean time, he probably wouldn’t see Kerry at all until he decided he needed something from the apartment.
“Funny you should mention Kerry…” Sara sent the first line of text, and Josh waited an agonizing minute for a follow up. “He’s actually asleep on the couch.”
Given the time between the texts, Josh guessed Sara wasn’t sure what to say and went for the simplest form of the message. It was still surprising.
“What?! Why?”
“He was banging on our door a little after midnight, Connor went to see what he was shouting about, Kerry threw a punch, and Connor knocked him out.” Josh was staring dumbfounded at his phone screen, unable to respond. For a moment, he actually forgot the fear and anxiety his dream had instilled in him. “At least. That’s the summary of it.”
There was something touching about Sara’s account of events to Josh. Namely, that she hadn’t painted him in an unfair light. He’d probably been wasted, rude, and aggressive. But Sara’s account was a factual one, not an emotional one. Josh’s roommate had essentially assaulted Connor, and it didn’t seem like there was any bad blood after the encounter. Josh couldn’t decide if that was noble or incredibly stupid. Probably stupid; Kerry didn’t like anyone having a victory over him.
“I’ll come get him.”
“It’s fine. He’s out cold and it wouldn’t be a great idea to drag him around at this time of night. Also I want to talk to him in the morning.”
“Talk to him…” Josh muttered. “What are you going to talk to him about?”
“I want to make sure he can’t see my mark… and I want to give him a chance to try and beat up Connor while he’s sober. Just to be fair.”
“You sure?”
“I don’t want him to feel like he made a fool out of himself. Less likely to try and get even later.”
Sara’s approach, while somewhat unusual, was a very fair way to approach the problem. If Kerry felt embarrassed or like Connor had gotten a lucky shot in, it would only compound whatever negativity had brought him to the penthouse in the first place. But if he had the opportunity to air his grievances, more so while sober, there was less of a chance that he’d make a point to take out his anger on them later. Josh was worried, however, that Kerry would beat the daylights out of Connor for getting the better of him. It wouldn’t have been the first time, though most other times Kerry was drunk and surrounded by women he wanted to impress.
“Alright. Let me know how that goes… I think I’m going to try and draw some more, see if I can’t figure out what I actually saw.”
Without looking at his phone again, Josh pulled out the notebook with his sketches of the marks and flipped to a new page. He started drawing the room of flesh, first by outlining the space of the room and then by going back and recreating the extension of the marks. It was grotesque, and lingering on the memory was sickening, but it was also cathartic. Focusing on the mark that had filled that space made Josh’s heart race and his breathing feel thin. And when he was done the drawing did too. But once it was on paper, it was nearly out of his head and he felt like he could start forgetting it so long as he knew it was somewhere.
By the time Josh stopped and put the notebook down, it was already six thirty and there was a message on his phone that had been there since just after he’d sent the last one. It read, “You don’t need to sleep, but just make sure you rest.” And as sweet as the sentiment was, Josh didn’t feel like rest was possible. Not anymore.