I awoke to the sound of the AC, the last tendrils of some dream leaving through the cracks in my window like so much alcohol-tinged vapor. I stumble-stood out of bed, and let the fuzz of forgetfulness enfold me, blanking out the previous day. The previous night. I couldn’t get to sleep right away, I remember that. I’d been thinking about what to do about everything. About Kyle. About my sister. About my life. So I took a pill. A little white pill. I don’t even know what it was, but the dude I’d gotten it from at the Bat Cove told me it would relax me, chill me out. It did that, alright. It turned me into rubber. I fell asleep with a Lovecraft book on my chest and had horrible nightmares. Like I said, they’re gone now, mostly. The only bits of memory I have are fast scenes of Kyle chasing me, with some horrible look on his face. Like he found out my secret and wanted to kill me for it. So not accurate. So not Kyle. But there it was, all bubbling up from my subconscious like bloody soup, like horror brain food.
I can’t bottle all this up. It’s ridiculous and dangerous and probably unhealthy. Kyle’s my best bud. He won’t care. And if he does, maybe he’s not the friend I thought he was. I think I need to lie down again, hold my pillow, and pretend it’s that dude from the Bat Cove.