Strange Sleep Habits [rest]

[viljo erik tawast]

This thread is restricted to Dorm 1 residents.

He was having the nightmare again. They were horrible images, ones that he hated seeing time and time again. They came in different forms each time. One night, the images had come in the form of a zombie apocolypse, where the images were everywhere around him. Another time, he was living back home, except instead of seeing his parents, he saw the images in their place.

Viljo jumped up in bed, cold sweet ran down him. This dream had been particularlly horrible. The last time he had a nightmare, he had been able to walk it off. This one was different, he couldn't shake it. His mother wanted Viljo to wear a new outfit. He agreed, only to find out that the outfit was a straight jacket and once in it, his mother locked him away. She took on the mangled form left after the accident and she closed in, smothering him. He wept, silently for a minute. He was able to push back the tears, but not the fear.

It was too late at night to go for a run, and a walk wouldn't help. He'd see signs of his mother around every corner and in every shadow. This was the first time he had been this bad since his mother had died. And it had been her that he had turned to in the past when he felt like this.

He climbed out of bed and walked over to James' bed. He wore only a pair of flannel pjs that his mother had somehow managed to lace up. The thought of wearing something she had made kind of creeped him out, but not enough to take them off.

Lightly, he pushed on James' shoulder and lightly spoke the boy's name. He hoped to wake James and not distrub Edward and Skylar from their sleep.

[james fitzgerald redd]

Moonlight trickled in silver threads between the heavy drapes covering the windows, dancing on the wood floors and across the forms of the occupants in the room. James slept with her bed length-wise against the wall, if only to keep herself from completely rolling off either side onto the floor. Her head was faced towards the nearest window, her red hair illuminated by the thin beams that danced over her figure.

During the course of the night, James had formed a kind of cocoon with her covers, buried to her nose in blankets and her back facing the rest of the room. She was, honestly, far too paranoid either Skylar, Edward, or Viljo would see some kind of drool or nonsensical facial expression while she slept. It was a petty thing, but it wasn't as if she had to mimic her brother's sleeping habits.

She dreamed of magpies running off with her brother's jewelry and chased them through a life-sized game board of some kind. As far as she knew, she was the sole player, trying to catch the birds, when her shoulder was suddenly jostled. She looked around, but no one was nearby. The magpies were getting away! Her shoulder involuntarily jerked forward again, and she tumbled forward into a dark square on the ground, melting into the pitch black.

"...ames."

The ground under her was soft, encapsulating. Her chest suddenly rose with a deep intake her breath, and she groaned, momentarily disoriented."Wurr th' burrs go?" she mumbled, stirring out of the remaining webs of her dream. Moments later, she registered that she had returned to the comforts of her bed, but did her legs ache! Loosening herself from the covers, James rolled onto her back, squinting up at someone standing next to her bed. What on earth? "Viljo?" she murmured groggily, rising slightly to sit up on one elbow. "What is it?"

[viljo erik tawast]

As James came to and asked him what was the matter, he started to feel dreadful about what he was doing. He shouldn't be waking up his friend and roommate over something as silly as a dream. He should be stronger and more enduring. He was almost fifteen and at this age, you didn't break down like this. YOu had to be better.

But he had already woken James. He looked embarrassed and quietly began speaking to not wake the other two roommates. "Olen pahoillani. Olin painajainen. Äitini halusi syödä minut. Olen edelleen hieman peloissani."

All the while, he had pleading eyes, hoping that James would understand and give him the momentary comfort he needed.

[james fitzgerald redd]

Head still stuffed with sleep, James squinted at Viljo as the boy began talking, but it was either the softness of his voice or something, but she didn't catch a single word. It sounded akin to soup right now. "What?" she whispered as she sat up in bed. Her legs swung over the side of the mattress so that she faced him.

"I don't understand what you're saying. What happened, Viljo?" James asked, rubbing her eyes with a hand.

[viljo erik tawast]

Had he been speaking in Finnish again? He thought he had been speaking in English. He bit his lip, counted to three in his head and tried to once again explain. He hoped this time that he had cleared his mind enough to speak not only clearly, but in the proper language. It was hard to be sure of these things when only minutes before, he was trapped in a hellish dream of which he couldn't escape.

"I had a nightmare," he said solemnly. "I know it was a nightmare and I know that it isn't real. I know that my mother is dead and isn't trying to get me. I'm just too frightened to go back to bed or go outside. I-"

He stopped himself. Why had he woken James? Was it for comfort? Was it for affection? James wasn't his mother. His mother was dead. His father was dead. James was alone. He needed to learn to deal with these issues without others for aid. He needed to lock away his emotions and become a pillar of resolute strength.

"I'm sorry to wake you. It was rude. I thought-"

He thought that James would hold him in his arms and make him feel safe. That was a foolish thing to expect. Guys didn't do that. He was ashamed of his weakness now. But, he had woken James and he might as well make the most of it. "I thought maybe someone to talk to might help."

It was a decent enough lie for the time being.

[james fitzgerald redd]

"A nightmare?" James asked softly. That was all? Weren't boys supposed to grow out of that thing by now? But then, Viljo, and everyone else in this school, was far from ordinary. She mentally sighed as she ran a hand through her hair, pushing it out of her face. Well, Viljo was a friend. She owed him that much to help him.

"It's fine, we can talk if you want," she whispered, glancing over to the two beds to make sure Edward and Skylar were still asleep. If Viljo was too afraid to go walking around, then they'd just have to stay in the room. She yawned and shifted, patting the bed with a hand. "You don't have to stand, come on. Sit down." She smiled reassuringly.

[viljo erik tawast]

"You didn't have any after you first started here?" Viljo asked with a mix of curiosity and embarrassment. He assumed that the transition from home to the school would do this to others. After all, the room still felt strange and foreign to him. It wasn't the bedroom he was used to, that was for sure.

He pulled himself up onto the bed beside James. Even though the beds were the same in all ways, it still felt strange climbing up onto this one. The strangeness didn't last. Having James right next to him was comforting and helped him relax. In fact, it almost made him forget about the nightmare. Almost.

"I hadn't had nightmares for a while. Then, after the accident, I've been getting them all the time. I guess it hasn't been so bad lately. This is the first one I've had since I started."

[james fitzgerald redd]

James paused a moment, then shook her head. "No, not that I can remember," she said, trying to think back on her brother's first days at the academy and being unable to recall any kind of complaint about the school.

Hooking her heels between the mattress and box spring, she leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees. "What was the nightmare about?" she asked softly, looking over to Viljo. "You mentioned your mother was trying to...get you? Are a lot of them like that?" Sometimes, when people talked about their dreams, or nightmares, they felt better, or at least understood what had triggered them; this was James' experience at least.

[viljo erik tawast]

"Almost all of the dreams are the same," he said looking at the empty spot on his bed he had been sleeping in only minutes before. "It starts out like a normal dream. I quickly realize something isn't right. Sometimes something is missing or maybe it is the way people sound. My mother is always in the dream. At first, she's all normal. Then, she changes and becomes something really scary. In one dream, she chained me to the bed and set herself on fire in order to burn the house down. Its always the same."

He turned his attention from the empty bed to James who was holding his gaze. "I want things to go back to normal. I'm starting to think that these nightmares are the new normal for me. I don't want that. But there is nothing else I can do."

[james fitzgerald redd]

Her chin rested on the back of her hands, her gaze moving momentarily to the floor in thought. Her brows knit together as she kept a grimace from appearing on her face. Nightmares were such a rare occurrence for her, nothing more than poor performance at school...or as of late, being discovered at the school. James could not keep a frown from twisting her lips.

"Maybe," she replied softly, catching a glimpse of Viljo's profile before he turned his face towards her. "I've never really had, or known anyone with, repeating dreams." James paused, all the while aware of the boy's body next to hers, the warmth from his arm pressed next to hers. "But, they could go away," she continued. "I mean, it hasn't been too long since her death."

She wondered if it was some kind of...coping mechanism, a really weird and terrifying one. She had heard theories once before of dreams being triggered through stress, or something of the other. But she could only vaguely remember bits and pieces. She wondered...

"I understand if you don't want to talk about it, but...what was your relationship with your mother?" she asked softly. "She dressed you up, I think you've said before."