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She quickly snapped off the lamp. He was light-sensitive, too. The sunglasses. That's why he'd been wearing them for the last month. Not because it was cool or what the other kids were doing. Because the light of day hurt him. She held his hand as he composed himself enough to tell her about the dream. |
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"Do you remember where the dream takes place?" |
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He shook his head. "Somebody's chasing me." |
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"What does he look like?" |
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"I couldn't see his face." |
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He nodded. "Yes." His eyes filled with tears as he went on. "His face is dark, so I can't see it, and I'm running home through the trees but he's right behind me, I can feel him, and I know he wants to kill me, tear me apart with his fingers and teeth, like some wild animal, and he chases me into the backyard. You and dad are inside and I try to get into the house, but the backyard is like a swamp, all mushy and soft, so I can't run. I fall beside the pool and then I'm crawling toward the edge, and I'm just about to go over the edge into the pool when I see the . . . the thing in the water. I see his face . . ." |
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"You mean he's under the water?" |
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"No, the reflection," Matty said in a choked voice. "He's ME." |
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"Oh, God . . . no, honey, he can't be you. It's not you. It's just a nightmare" |
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She pulled him against her and for a long while just held him quietly, rocking in place until he fell asleep. |
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It sickened her to think that he was so mortified by the changes in himself that he subconsciously perceived himself as a monster of some sort. There were fresh self-inflicted scratches on his arm. God, this was so unfair. She would call Tojian for the name of a good child psychologist. |
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The phone rang again, and she caught it before Matty woke up. |
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