Page 73 of See You in Your Dreams

A monstrous shadow flickers along the wall near the bend. The sight finally snaps me out of my stasis, and I turn and bolt in the opposite direction. Greta is gone as if she’d never been there to begin with.

She hadn’t. Because this is a dream. Remember that. This is only a dream.

I cling to the notion for all the good it’s doing me as I flee from one twisting corridor into another. The real Banton High is relatively small with only a few hundred students, butthisversion seems unending.

The imploring calls continue behind me unabated, driving me ever onward. Whatever monstrous thing is wearing my Mom’s face in this place, I don’t think I could bear the sight of it.

Gradually, the school halls shift around me, linoleum bleeding into stone while harsh fluorescent lighting fades to torchlight. Soon enough, the school is gone, replaced by an actual labyrinth of cracked stone and flickering torches—the perfect backdrop for a demon to hunt me.

I dash around a corner, my breaths coming in ragged gasps, and skid to a halt. The corridor dead ends ahead of me in a solid wall of stone. Frantically, my pulse pounding in my temples, I spin to try and bolt back to another crossing, but the shadow of my pursuer already looms. I’m trapped.

“No more running, Ash,” Mom purrs. “No more hiding. It’s time you finally faced the truth.”

“T-the truth?” I ask, trying to buy time as I desperately search the passage for another way out, my attempts to will one into existence in vain.

“That you’re a failure, Ash. Me, Harvey, Greta, Dylan…the list goes on and on.”

A shape appears in the mouth of the tunnel, and I avert my eyes, staring at the stone floor as squelching footsteps herald its plodding approach.

“I love you, baby, but let’s be real: everyone around you winds up miserable or dead.” She giggles, the sound scraping at my sanity. “Or both. That’s why I did what I did, Ash. I had to get away from you. Spending another second in that house with you was more torture than I could bear.”

“S-stop,” I whisper, my hands shaking as I clutch my arms to my chest, bowing my back. Tears stand out in my eyes. “P-please, s-stop.”

“I wish I could, baby. But you need to hear this. To really let it sink in so that you understand.”

The wet footsteps halt right in front of me. A hand, blackened with rot, cups my cheek. I gag at the sickly-sweet stench of decay permeating the air.

“Youare my greatest regret,” Mom says gently. “You are cursed. Greta may be your most recent casualty, but she won’t be the last. You killed her. Just like you killed me. Just like you’re going to kill Dylan.”

Her poisonous words sink into me like barbs, ripping me open and leaving me numb. The flickering torchlight dims, the darkness around me growing. I can feel its ravenous hunger, a beast eager to devour me. I close my eyes, grateful for the promise of an end to the pain.

“Yesss,” Mom hisses, her squishy fingers caressing my cheek. “That’s it, baby. Just let it all go. It’s what’s best for you. What’s best for Dylan.”

Dylan…

I picture him trapped somewhere in this nightmare, all alone and suffering like I am. He doesn’t deserve that. If I give up now, I’ll be resigning him to the same fate as Harvey, at least until he wakes up in the morning.

Giving up is how I become arealfailure.

“No,” I whisper. My hands tighten at my sides, the muscles in my neck and back tensing. “No!”

I straighten my back. The hand on my face falls away as resolve floods me.

“Come on, baby, stop that,” my mother’s voice chides. “There’s no sense resisting. The only way you’ll find peace is to—”

“The only way I’ll find peace is by forgiving myself. I’ve been holding onto the pain and guilt for so long that I pushed everyone else away. But being alone is whatreallyhurts everyone. It’s why I only started to heal when I let Dylan in…or at least let him force his way in. It’s why I wish I’d repaid Greta’s kindness better with the friendship she deserved.” I suck in a deep, steadying breath and open my eyes. “And it’s why it’s way past time I recognize that everything you and the others have been telling me is complete and utterbullshit.”

I catch a glimpse of a gnarled creature nothing at all like the mother I remember, its gristly limbs and crimson eyes shrinking away from me as though burned by my mere presence. Then in a flash of golden light, it’s gone along with the ancient labyrinth, depositing me back in my room where I began.

No sign of Harvey, thank God. Nor, unfortunately, of Dylan. I stride toward the open door into the hall, raising my hand as I tighten my jaw. This may not be my dream, but I’m still a dreamwalker, dammit. It’s not too late to salvage this nightmare and help Dylan wake up. I just need to find him first.

Closing my eyes, I focus all my mental energy toward that very task now that I’ve temporarily silenced my doubts and fears.At first, I fear it’s still not enough, Dylan’s resistance to my interference still too strong.

Then, I feel something give way. I step through the doorway and open my eyes to discover I’m standing in the cramped kitchen at Dylan’s house. My heart leaps when I spy him stirring a bubbling pot on the stove.

“Dylan! Thank God, I found you!”

I rush to him and reach out, only belatedly realizing that this could be another trick—a dream incarnation of Dylan designed to torture me more. To my relief, however, Dylan turns and fixes me with an absent smile.