Nebulous

Aaron and Naomi were coming over for dinner.

Sam’s parents had been wary about the fact, his mother mentioning it in passing, moving onto the next topic of conversation before he could ask questions.

He wasn’t sure how his parents felt about Naomi and Aaron at this point, but it couldn’t be completely negative, as the pair had been invited over for dinner.

His mother supplied some of her feelings to him shortly before they were expected to arrive.

“I know it’s not an easy situation,” she said. “But I think it’s best if we try moving forward as a family. I don’t want us to fall apart just after getting you back.”

He hadn’t said anything in return, just pulled his mother against his side and pressed a kiss to her head. For her, he would be okay with this.

When they arrived, it was with timid smiles and averted gazes that the greeted each other with.

“How’s it going, Sam?” Aaron asked, clapping a hand on Sam’s shoulder.

“It’s going okay,” Sam answered, smiling. “I’ll live though.”

Aaron smiled back. On a whim, Sam pulled his older brother in for a hug. When they broke apart, the tension that had filled the room was noticeably reduced. His mother was beaming, tears in her eyes and his father gave him a nod.

“Well,” his father said. “Let’s eat before the food gets cold.”

They sat around the table, laughing and eating as if everything was normal. Sam didn’t contribute much to the conversation, simply enjoying the sight of his family interacting. Knowing he had family there surrounding him made him forget about the nightmares and the darkness intruding on his life, at least for a little bit.

After dinner and dessert, Naomi and Aaron got ready to leave.

“Feel free to come see us,” Aaron said to Sam as they pulled on coats and put their boots on, before adding, “If you feel up to it.”

“Yeah, of course,” Sam answered. His brother patted him on the back before heading outside to start his car, leaving Naomi to finish pulling her boots on.

“I have something for you,” she said once she had straightened up. She reached into her purse and pulled out a few sheets of folded paper. “I was poking around on the internet after our conversation and I just recently came across this.”

She shrugged and handed him the papers. He unfolded the pages and glanced at them (they looked like blog posts) before looking back at Naomi.

“Thanks,” he said. “This is great.”

“It’s the least I could do,” she responded. Aaron honked the car horn outside and Naomi smiled at Sam. “Have a good night.”

Once they had pulled out of the driveway, Sam folded up the pages and stuck them in the back pocket of his jeans before going to the kitchen to help his mother with the dishes.

He almost forgot about the pages until he was getting ready for bed and he heard them crinkling as he got undressed. He pulled the paper out of his pocket, staring at them for a moment before setting the on his nightstand.

Once he was in his pajamas and relaxing on his bed, he picked them up and unfolded them carefully. He wasn’t sure that these would actually lead to anything, but Naomi had thought so. For her, he would read these.

The first one was dated about a week ago:

The first and last things that I remember are the lights, then six months of blackness. Six months of being missing, with no memory of where I had been or what had happened to me.

I’ve tried looking for answers, but all I hit are dead ends. My therapist says I should just try and bring normalcy back into my life in order to try and move on from this. But the idea of those lights are just gnawing at my thoughts.

I’ve tried seeking bringing “normal” back into my life through old comforts, but even those are fleeting. They just remind me that I’m drifting away from myself.

I’m not even sure why I’m putting this on the internet. I guess I just hope that someone will find this, that someone will understand, that someone might have answers.

If you’re out there, please let me know that I’m not alone.

By the time he finished reading it, he was sitting up, the paper crinkling as his fingers clutched it tightly. He relaxed his grip, hurriedly setting aside the first paper to get to the second one, this post dated from just a few days ago:

I’ve been having dreams. Nightmares might be the more accurate way to describe them, though I’m going to keep the details to myself. Something about these dreams seems so real that sharing them feels like I’d be giving away intimate details about my life.

But I can share how they make me feel. I have never felt fear like the fear that I feel when I have these dreams. It is an ice cold terror I feel deep within me, a black hopelessness that overcomes me.

These dreams leave me breathless and shivering in a cold sweat. They’re seared to my memory and I cannot shake them. They’re there even when I wake, haunting my every move.

The realness of these dreams has me constantly looking over my shoulder. I’m scared. I have never been so afraid.

He sat there, staring at the words in front of him. He realized his hands were shaking and he dropped the papers onto his lap, burying his hands in his hair, thinking.

The author of this blog hadn’t shared the details of their dreams, but they had described in perfect detail how his dreams made him feel. He knew whoever this person was, they were going through exactly what he was going through. It was further proof that he was not alone in his experiences and there was hope that answers might be found.

Sam knew in that moment he needed to find this person.