Araceli Arbon and Makenzie Newell
January 02, 2016 4:18 AM
Our worst nightmares by Araceli Arbon and Makenzie Newell
Sleep was the time when Delphine was at freest. She was physically herself and her mind was free to wander as it would. She was grateful every night for the hangings around their four poster beds. She dreaded to think how this whole affair would have been managed otherwise. An alarm every fifty five minutes to take her potion? That would have been unbearable. She remembered the first few weeks when she’d had trouble sleeping, paranoid that she was going to be seen, or to slip up. Even that level of tiredness had made everything so much harder. She was sure she’d read about Medieval torture methods where they let people drift off to sleep only to wake them again. They went mad. She gratefully slid the hangings shut, lying down as Araceli but aware that she would awake as herself. Most of the time she took a swig of potion as soon as she awoke, feeling vulnerable about being in her own body, but some mornings, she took a moment to lie there, to remember who she was.She slipped into a recurring dream she’d had since… It felt like forever but she supposed it was since she started this. It had that weird sort of dream consciousness, whereby she was both watching herself and felt as if she was still inside her head. She was sitting in class, watching the clock. It was steadily ticking down. She was supposed to take her potion on the hour. The moment was fast approaching and she just knew that she wasn’t going to. The narrator version of herself, the one watching, was panicked, screaming, urging the girl at the desk to do it, that she had to do it. But the Araceli at the desk looked set, and she could feel her calmness, her certainty and the relief that came from having made a decision. She wasn’t going to do this any more.
Tonight was not the first time Makenzie had ever had a nightmare. Last term, she’d had them somewhat frequently when stressed. But something about this one was different; she wasn’t scared per se, just unsettled, her insides wound tight by vision-induced anxiety. This was perhaps the worst nightmare she ever had.
She dreamed that something happened to Araceli.
Makenzie sat up in bed, red-orange hair unfurling from its matted down position behind her. She tried to glance over to her best friend’s bed across the way, but Araceli slept with the hanging curtains pulled shut around her four-postered bed, out of Makenzie’s view. She hated to possibly bother her, but she didn’t think she could get back to sleep without seeing Araceli safe and sound to reassure herself. It was irrational and silly, but it was late, and she was tired. Her thought process was a bit vulnerable.
So carefully, quietly, she snuck across the room, certain not to make any undue noise that could wake either Araceli or Shino. When she reached her destination, Makenzie slowly pulled Araceli’s curtain back just enough to see her. But, with a sharp gasp, she found the last thing she would have ever expected: someone other than Araceli in her bed. Someone Makenzie didn’t know, although the resemblance to Araceli--and even more so to her sister Effie--was striking.
Normally the dream ended as the minute hand hit the hour. She didn’t see herself transform, she didn’t see the reaction of her classmates. She just woke, reassured herself that she was safe in her bed, and rolled over, into a less easy sleep, pushing down the little voice that said it could be that simple - it was, after all, inaction over action - that she could end it if she wanted to. This time the dream was different. She heard a gasp. She guessed she was back to herself in front of full view of everyone. Except now she wasn’t in class any more, she’d somehow ended up back in her room, with Makenzie leaning over her. And with a cold stab of fear to the heart she realised… She was in her room. It was Makenzie. It was real.
Delphine sat upright, wrenching the curtains closed and taking a swig of Polyjuice Potion, tasting the familiar mix of honey, edged with a tang like the smell of coins, all acerbic, all leaving her mouth a little dry. Her hand found her wand under her pillow. She didn’t want to use it…. The transformation felt as if it took forever. She would hear if Kenzie was talking about her, she knew she would really, but it was hard not to feel that she would open the curtains to both her and Shinohara’s accusing eyes, maybe even wands levelled at her. Pulling the curtains back, she found Kenzie still staring. She placed a finger to her lips, eyes absolutely begging her. Part of her knew it was ridiculous to expect Kenzie to want to keep her secret in light of how clearly and massively she had deceived her, how to the other girl, everything about their friendship must feel like a lie right now, but she wanted to believe. And, if not, she had her wand. Leaning carefully out, she peered to see if Kenzie’s footsteps and gasp had disturbed Shino.
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Araceli Arbon and Makenzie Newell
Our worst nightmares
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Araceli Arbon and Makenzie Newell
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