Hidden Edges

Chapter 4

This is the most beautiful field I've ever seen. So green and so wide. I can't see the end from where I'm standing. The tall grass looks so green and healthy. Standing in the middle of the field, my hair and my fine yellow dress blowing in the soft wind, the peace I feel is more than words can say. Suddenly, the air starts to get chilly and the blue clouds darken right before my very eyes. I hear rustling in the grass and, before I know it, I'm being chased by a bull. A bull with very big and sharp looking horns.

Running as fast as my legs would let me, I look around for an escape route but all I see is the green field turning to grey and the grass dying as fast as my heart beats. Few seconds and the once beautiful field can't be called that anymore. I stumble on my feet and fall down, the bull coming at me. I try to run, but my body seems to defy any form of motion.

In a split second, the bull comes at me and I close my eyes, screaming in fear and agony, then opening them to see myself in my room with a naked Dylan beside me and my hand in my hair. Beads of sweat form on my forehead with my heart hammering in my chest and my body trembling from the fright. I try to take steady breaths, telling myself it was just a dream.

My throat becomes dry from the screaming. I try to swallow saliva, but it only makes it hurt. Quickly, I put on my robe and head downstairs quietly to the kitchen for a glass of water. Everywhere's eerily quiet aside from the ticking of the big wall clock at the end of the passage telling you how short life is. Drinking to my fill and feeling so much better, I rinse the cup and just as I'm about putting it back in the cupboard, I hear a really strange voice right behind me.

"What's a pretty young girl like you doing out so late?"

My heart starts pounding in my chest, threatening to escape. His stale breath fanning the back of my neck and goosebumps appear all over my arms as a result of fear and irritation. Without thinking twice about who it might be, my grip tightens around the glass and I swing it around with all the force I could muster up, aiming for the head but hitting nothing but the air, the glass falling from my hand and shattering onto the ground from the force I applied.

Widening my eyes in shock, I look around and see no one, everything looks normal, and I start to tremble in fear and confusion. I swear I heard a voice, I felt a presence right behind me. I freaking smelled and felt his foul breath! Tears start to roll down my cheeks as I stay frozen to a spot, not being able to move.

The adrenaline rush I am experiencing right now coupled with the fear weakens me to my bones. I hear quick steps approaching from upstairs. I want to run, but I can't. I want to scream but nothing comes out. I can perceive the stench again, and it's getting really close. A few seconds later, I see Dylan running towards me from up the stairs, the smell vanishing at once.

In a split second, I find myself in his arms crying, and he holds me tightly to his chest, trying to calm me down.

"There was someone Dylan," I say between sobs, "one second he's here, the next he's not. I swear there was someone, I swear it. He was-"

"Shhh-," he cuts me off gently, "I believe you. I believe you, Crystal, but it's okay. I'm here now, okay?" I nod, trying to calm down. We stayed there hugging for a while, his warm hold giving me a sense of protection and safety. He lets go of me, looking at my face with so much pity and guilt, like he knows exactly what's happening to me.

"You'll be fine Crystal, I'll make sure of that," he says, putting his forehead on mine, holding my hands firmly. These simple words coming from the man I love and trust the most in the entire world dissipate all the fear I have within me, making me feel at peace for once since I saw those eyes in the woods.

"With you, I know I'd be fine," I tell him truthfully, and a tear drops from his left eye, moving slowly down his cheek. This is the first time I've seen Dylan cry. We moved to Nassau together when we were just about getting married, and it was all rosy and blissful with a few petty arguments that never lasted two hours after a treat at one of the fine eateries or a surprising ticket to see a movie at the theater.

Neither of us has had any reason to shed a tear and never ever did I think the first time would be here, on this supposed fun vacation with his parents.

"Is everything okay?" Jake's voice brings us back to reality. He's standing on the stairs with Betty, looking at us curiously.

"It's fine," Dylan says, quickly cleaning his face, still holding my hand.

"I accidentally broke a glass, but we're fine," I say, smiling. "I'll clean it up now, and we'll head back upstairs."

"Are you sure?" Betty says, doubt and concern oozing out of her voice.

"Yeah, we'll be fine." I try my best possible to sound normal, "just go back to bed. Sorry we disturbed."

"It's fine dear, call me if you need anything." With that, they both head back upstairs and Dylan and I follow suit right after clearing the shards of glass on the floor.

Tossing and turning till dawn, my eyes feel heavy, begging me to close it for a few minutes, but I can't even blink without hearing that voice. Dylan hasn't had any sleep either, but I pretend not to know. He's curled up on his side of the bed in silence and I stare at him, only moving to put off the alarm that went off at six o'clock around thirty minutes ago.

Soon enough, sunlight seeps through the curtains and I sit up on the bed, not having the will to do anything. Dylan knows something, he knows why I keep seeing things and hearing voices. That tear said it all. It wasn't a tear of sadness or anger, it was eminent guilt. Regret pure in his eyes. What is this place? It's been only a day, just a night and I can't sleep. It's either I get answers or I go home. I'd rather be at home right now, watching Netflix or baking cookies than be here, hearing voices and having insomnia!

"Dylan," I say without looking at him, but the desperation evident in my groggy voice, "what are we doing here?"

He stays silent, acting like he didn't hear a thing. If he thinks I'd let this slip by so easily, he must be the joker of the century.

"Dylan", my anger almost surpassing inquisition. "Could you have the slightest decency to at least tell me what the f**k is going on!" I slammed my hand on the bed, facing him this time. He only gets up and walks to the bathroom.

"What?" I get up, stopping him from going any further. "You're going to ignore me? I'm losing my mind, and you're going to ignore me?! Are you that heartless and cowardly?! Are you even the man I married?!!"

"Yes!" he shouts back at me equally, frustration and fatigue brimming in his eyes, "I'm the man you married and that's the freaking problem!!" Breathing heavily, tightening his fists, filled with rage, he kicks the dresser, punching the wall beside it so hard his knuckles start to leave blood stain in its wake. I've always known he has anger issues, but never have I seen him lose it this far to the point of insulting my marriage to him. My eyes widen in shock and I start to tremble, looking at this frustrated and furious man in front of me.

A complete shadow of the Dylan I married. Tears roll down freely from my eyes, clouding my vision a little. I can't just stand and watch my husband hurt himself, but I can't go near him either. This man eludes an aura, a strange aura I've never felt around my Dylan. Finally, he stops his assault on the wall and turns to look at me, the anger vanishing from his eyes immediately he sees my teary ones.

He comes closer to hold me, but I take a step backward out of reflex, and he stops, looking more hurt than a wounded puppy left on the street to die.

"I—I didn't," he starts but stops, seemingly at a loss for words, but I just stare at him blankly, leaving the tears to dry on my cheeks.

"Tell me what's going on." I say in monotone, looking him dead in the eyes.

"I had no choice, Crystal," he says, averting his eyes from mine, obviously out of shame. His actions only making me all the more inquisitive and worried.

"You had no choice to do what? God-damn talk to me Dylan! What's so hard for you to say? I'm going insane in this place!"

"It is either we face death or death faces us."