Insomnia

Chapter 14: The Fire

Mia's dream jolted me to the core the instant it began. Gone were the peaceful scenes and ease of entry. Her dream layers vibrated around me so hard it felt like she'd slammed them shut on me again and again. The impact jarred me until my teeth ached. 

I tried to orient myself in the madness. The nightmare swirled around me in chaos. Mia and I were wearing all black, dressed in shadow. She hugged her knees on the ground beside me, sobbing and rocking back and forth. All around us swirled other levels of the dream—bits of visions, nightmares, and memories in a twisted soup of confusion. Every noise reverberated a thousand times over.

My mind recoiled from the barrage on my senses, unwilling to accept the nightmare that had overtaken my sanctuary. Mia's dreams weren't like this. There was nothing peaceful or beautiful here. I knelt to the ground beside her, shoving my fists against my ears in an effort to regain some sanity. I wasn't causing this . . . was I? 

The noises quieted until I could hear only a faint crackling. The smell of something burning filled my nostrils. I was relieved until Mia's sobs intensified and I was hit with her emotions. They were twin trains of misery and fear, leaving me wide-eyed and panting. My brain couldn't think under the mad pain of it. 

What was going on? 

The swirling halted, leaving us in a grassy front yard. The other dream layers must have separated for the moment. The house before us was dark, but I watched as fire quickly spread to each window. In what felt like seconds, the building was engulfed in flames. 

That was when I heard the screaming. 

I thought it was Mia at first, but then realized it came from the top floor of the house. Mia rolled to her side, wrapping both arms around her head. Her misery flowed into me as it escalated. Ending it was all that mattered. Unable to close her eyes or truly block out the sound, she thrashed about, trying to turn away. 

The screaming in the house got louder, and I forced myself to face the blaze. If Mia had to witness it, so would I. 

There were figures moving inside. I saw faces in the upstairs window—a man and a woman, both older. The woman had long brown hair, and the man haunting dark blue eyes. They had to be her parents. I watched them pound on the window. The man fumbled with the latch, trying to open it. 

Smoke clouded the view and I couldn't see. Then both figures were highlighted as the flames surrounded them. With their arms wrapped around each other, they melted into the fire, and within seconds, all was quiet. 

Mia's gasping breaths filled the stillness, and I crouched down beside her. My gut twisted. I knew my tears matched the ones that drenched her face. So much agony. I hoped to God this wasn't a memory, but deep down I knew it was. The clarity of the sky, the stars, the vividness of the heat, the smell—it was too well defined to be just a dream. This was real. No simple nightmare was this solid—this terrible. 

Mia had watched her parents burn. 

Sitting beside her, I buried my head in my hands, knowing how much I'd added to her problems. No wonder she never answered any of my questions about her past. I'd never in a million years imagined she could've witnessed something so horrifying. 

I knew I couldn't touch Mia in a dream, but this was too much. I couldn't just watch her, not alone in so much pain. I reached out and wrapped both arms around her shaking shoulders. I gasped when I felt the soft fabric of her shirt with my hands and she relaxed against me, sobbing into my chest. Then she wrapped her arms around me and clutched me so tight I had to work to breathe. 

I could feel her pain as it eased. It was so strange and it made no sense at all, but somehow, I was helping her through the nightmare. Somehow my touch didn't pass right through her.