Dreamwalkers chapter 4

Okay, the last chapter was a false start, figured out I had to change a few chapters in order to fit the mythology. This is #day1 of the #30days30chapters

P.S: Not betaread yet. 

chapter theme

(Hozier-In A Week)

Medea expected a few awkward conversational starters but apparently, Sen wasn't big on small talk because when he opened his mouth next, he went right to the jugular.

"Did you get any sleep after?"

"Some." Medea had learned to answer such questions without giving actual information, it's better than having them imagining things if she kept quiet. It's amazing what people cooked up inside their mind when she stayed silent, it's like they immediately went for the worst case scenario.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw him slide a look at her, taking her appearance from head to toe. She was used to that, used to people looking at her with a waiting look in their eyes; as if they expected her to do something crazy. His look was different though, it was if he...cared.

"Where do I go from here?"

"Take a right."

We passed by the Rickenberg House, a creepy looking manor surrounded by walls and an intricate iron gate in silence before Sen spoke again. "You're not going to give me the tour? On your right, a perfect setting for a horror movie, on your left..."

"You have Yukiko for that."

"But Yukiko would only give me the black and white version, I need the gray version, the place you guys sneak away to drink beer, the best cheapest food, where you go to make out."

Medea only stared at him. Expecting to get some action, was he? 

"What?"

"Why would you think I'd know all that?"

"Because you're the correct age and this is a small town?"

Okay, he got her there. Sure, she knew the answer to his question but it wasn't from a first person point of view. Medea knew that the Highlands Cemetery was the best place to drink beer, Leland's has the best and cheapest burgers around, and Lockheart Bridge was where the teenagers went to party and make out. Not that Medea has ever been invited to any of these occasions, when you're known as the town crazy, you kind of have to keep to yourself. Maybe in another town, what Medea had wouldn't be considered weird but nothing special, but in this town, having insomnia was a pretty big deal, much less night terrors and sleep walking and depression. 

She had pretty much solidified her town-crazy standing when people heard about her stay in a mental facility and a sleep disorder lab and of every alternative treatment thing she had ever tried. 

Though everything probably started from when she screamed the whole house awake at the only sleepover she had ever been invited too. No one invited her to anything since then. Her parents made the best of it, always throwing lavish parties on her birthday and not inviting anyone over as if to revenge-snub everyone that snubbed her. It was awesome at first, but it got tired after the first few years. Nowadays, her birthdays were quiet affairs and she was much happier for it. 

Medea realized that he was waiting for an answer, so she told him what he knew. Nothing less, nothing more. 

"Do you always hide your scars?"

"Are you always this nosy?"

His eyes were on the road but a smile flashed on his face. "Not really, but you're welcome to ask me uncomfortable questions and maybe then I won't ask you questions that you're uncomfortable answering."

"Can't we just stay quiet and listen to music?"

"So, do you always--"

"Fine." Medea crossed her arms and tried to ignore his short laugh. "Where did you live before?"

"Kyoto."

"Kyoto, Japan?"

Oh, all the snark answers he could go with that. "Yeah, my parents live there."

"What are you doing here?"

"Business."

Medea gave him a dirty look. 

He shrugged. "My parents wanted oba-san to live with them, they think that her age makes her decrepit and helpless," He laughed when Medea scoffed, "That's how she reacted."

"So, you're, what? A compromise?"

"Something like that."

"And you're okay with that?" Uprooting his whole life to satisfy his parents and his grandmother? No one was that good and selfless. She couldn’t believe that his parents let him move to another country to take care of his grandmother either.

"Yeah.”

Medea eyed him, trying to detect some bitterness on his face but couldn't find any. She didn't know why that irritated her, but it did. 

"Am I going the right way?"

"Yeah, just take a left at the first turn."

"This town is a damn maze."

Medea made a noncommittal noise, it was a pretty known fact that the town's original families were paranoid, pranksters and smugglers. All three qualities guaranteed that many hideyholes and secret forest hideouts existed, in fact finding out new tunnels or storm cellars or secret rooms have been a popular winter past-time for the town's people. Even Medea's house boasted of two separate tunnels, an escape route to the forest and a small but substantial hide out behind her bookcase. 

"What do you dream about?"

Medea blinked. "What?"

"Your dreams, what is it about?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Curiosity." He took the left turn and flipped down his visor and hers, the motions of his hands easy and smooth. The black and white beads on his left wrist clicked softly, reflecting back sunlight into the interior of the car. 

When she didn't answer, his eyes flicked to her. "Don't want to talk about it?"

"Why would you think I’d want to talk about it with you?"

He shrugged. "Because I'm not a grown-up, I'm not a parent or a shrink. Have you ever tried just to talk about it to a friend?"

"I don't have friends."

He smiled as if he thought she was joking, but then she saw her expression. "You're serious. You actually don't have friends? How long have you been living here again?"

"I'm a pariah, people tend to avoid talking to me." Some people even tried to pretend to not see her which was ridiculous, but she was used to it. She waved her hand and rolled her wrist. The scars gleamed white in the warm ray sunlight. "Then add this, it's understandable that they think I'd be a bad influence for their kids."

"Are you?"

She shrugged again. 

"Have you tried?"

Medea wrinkled her brow. 

"Have you tried making friends?"

She had once upon a time, but her attempts fell apart eventually. It's kind of hard explaining what she felt, what she was dealing with when she didn't really understand why she was the way she was. Saying 'I have dreams that make me not able to sleep’ sounds dumb. And she hated when other parents acted as if she was just making this up, and that her parents were in the wrong for enabling her as if she was just acting out, that it was a phase.

"Is it really that bad? Your dreams?"

She didn't answer, she was done explaining herself to anyone.

"Or are they good?" he asked, his voice casual. His face was relaxed and the set of his shoulders easy underneath his sky blue T-shirt. There was nothing in his demeanor that should set her heart knocking against her ribs, but it was. 

"What?"

"Your dreams, are they so bad that you’re afraid to sleep or that they're too good, you're afraid to sleep in case you won’t wake up?"

Medea’s stomach twisted, and her fingers bit into her palms. “What?”

Copyright © 2015 by D.F. Jules

go to chapter 5

Dreamwalkers-Chapter 3

chapter theme:

Their town, high up in the mountains, rarely experiences sunny days. The sun would come out but the air would carry a chill instead of warmth, nor would the sky be blue rather than a mournful gray.

Except for today.

So, Medea took that as a sign from the divine to drag a few folding chairs out into the back garden, whip up some tangy lemonade and chose a good book from her ever-growing to-be-read list.

She sighed as warmth seeped into her skin, chasing out the cold that had been biting into her bones since last night. Her parents were both gone so she could relax without their constant attention, without having to pretend that she wasn't tired, or worried or--

She shook the dark mood away and hiked up her shorts to her thighs and folded the hem of her tank top to show her stomach, exposing them to the sun, but was careful to lower her hat over her face. Her pale skin had a tendency to break out into freckles. Medea sipped on cool lemonade, opened the book to where she left it last and readied herself for the only type of adventure that she could ever enjoy.

Of course, having just one day where she could actually enjoy herself without being interrupted was too much to ask for because a voice wrenched her away from her book and made her spilled lemonade over her legs.

Sen winced as he walked closer; all long limbs and amiable smile. "Sorry about that."

A glare appeared on her face. "What are you doing here?"

"Same as what you're doing, enjoying the sun." Panting slightly, he lowered himself to pick up the glass and put it back on the table from where she knocked it over. He wore an old faded blue T-shirt with the sleeves ripped off and shorts, his skin glistening with sweat. He had running shoes on his feet and ear buds around his neck; hard and fast guitar riffs reached Medea's ears.

"Can't you enjoy them somewhere else?"

It was either he was ignoring the scowl on her face or he thought looking as if she wished he fell down a cliff was her default resting face. "I was, but that's the thing with running, it takes you from point A to point B."

"Ha." Medea shook off the excess water from her legs, it wasn't until she caught him looking at her stomach and her thighs that she realized how much skin she was showing. Heat blossomed in her cheeks but she refused to fiddle with her clothes. It was her home and she could wear whatever she wanted.

She nearly bared her teeth at him when he took a seat on the edge of her folding chair, his weight making it creak. She did bare her teeth when he touched her bandaged ankle, examining it as if he knew what he was doing.

"How does it feel?"

"It's fine."

His fingers were cool where it graze her skin, making her really aware that she forgo shaving her legs this morning. His eyes were doing that annoying thing again--looking at her as if he was slowly cataloging things about her into his mental space--and she crossed her arms over her chest, while she didn't wear a bra, she did wear a tight enough tank top to keep everything in place, and she had a lot of everything to keep in place.

"You'll burn." He said, his dark eyes still on her.

"You're as pale as I am and I don't see you covering up."

A small smile quirked his lips. "I turn brown. You turn red."

She decided to give him a taste of his own medicine and eyed him back, comparing what she saw last night to what she was seeing under the sun. She figured he was right about the turning brown part, already his skin had a dark hue underneath the paleness, rather than black his eyes were a dark brown that shimmered in the change of light. His features were delicate rather than handsome, saved from being feminine by the strength of his jawline and the depth of his eyes. His hair was cut neat and short, slicked back away from his face to display the high cheekbones and emphasized the straight stare of his eyes. She was right about the breadth of his shoulders and the muscle underneath, his biceps weren't only defined but carved. There were little long white scars along his hands and forearms that she recognized for what they were, as well as the calluses she had felt on his fingertips. She had seen them on Yukiko. Apparently like his grandmother, the grandson also trained in the art of the Japanese longbow and sword. That explained the confidence, the steadiness she could sense from him, it was easy to be confident when you know you have control over your body and your emotions. That you know you can handle yourself in a fight.

To help with her mental state, Yukiko had tried to teach her Kyudo and Kendo. She was decent with the long bow but dismal with a sword. She lacked the focus and the patience to practice the basics, and she didn't like it. She often joined Yukiko for an hour of meditation after Yukiko's practice but that too, she wasn't particularly good at.

She was too restless, too impatient, her mind was too loud, Yukiko had once complained, irritated with her lack of progress.

Her disappointment had hurt.

"Seriously, what are you doing here?"

He gestured toward himself. “I was running, I passed by here, I thought I’d stopped by.”

“You were running from Yukiko's?" She tilted her head to see the top of the mountain where Yukiko lived. "From there?"

Sen grinned. "No, I was at a friend's house, he lived nearby."

Friends? He's been here a minute and he already has friends?, Medea thought. Some people have all the luck. Then she remembered something. "Oh, are you here for your coat?"

He pulled the collar of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face and gave her a short glimpse of hard abs. "Nah, that can wait. It's not like I need it right now."

She narrowed her eyes as suspicion entered her head. "Did Yukiko ask you to check on me?"

"No." The grin on his face widened when I kept my eyes on his face. "Really, she didn't."

"I don't believe you."

"She did ask me to look out for you but that's not why I'm here." He leaned closer, his eyes looking straight at her. "I need a favor."

"A favor."

"No need to sound so surprised--"

"I'm not."

"--after all, I did carry you to safety last night--"

She rolled her eyes and pulled her tank top down, finally felt like she could do that without drawing attention to her discomfort. "Just tell me."

"I need you to show me where your mom's shop is."

Amusement made her want to smile but she pressed her lips together. "She got you with the brownies, did she?"

"I'm her slave." He told her, deadpan. "And Yukiko asked me to pick her up there."

"Ask your friend. Everyone know's my mom's place."

"He's currently not at home, and I'd ask for directions but this town is pretty much a maze."

That was true enough, Medea conceded, the number of people in this town might be small but the land was vast and the directions not too clear either. It was like the town was made confusing on purpose, one of the main attractions for the town folk was to befuddle as many tourists as possible and watch them circle back and forth. It was hilarious.

Medea squirmed under Sen's expectant gaze, the way he just sat there and stared at her without moving a muscle. It was irritating.

As if he could sense her surrender, he beamed at her. "So, I'll meet you here in an hour? I have to jog back and take a shower. I'll pick you up."

"Fine." She grumbled. Medea watched him jog away with a sullen look on her face, annoyed with how she couldn't figure out an excuse to refuse him.

***

He was punctual, she would give him that. He arrived at her house within an hour and not a second more, looking fresh in a green shirt and blue jeans. His hair was still damp from a shower and his skin glowed with health and exercise. She had also showered and dressed in a soft purple shirt a mini denim skirt but looking at him, she felt pale, tired and worn. Since she didn't bother with makeup or fussing with her hair, she probably did look like how she felt.

She hobbled out of the door before he reached the porch and watched him decide whether to help her or to let her walk on her own. He decided to reach for the car and opened the door for her.

"Sorry about this." He said after she managed to climb up the car. "I didn't think about your leg."

Strangely, she suddenly felt better. "It's fine. Take this road."

Copyright © 2015 by D.F. Jules

Go to chapter 4