The One You Shouldn't Let In [1/9]
A teenage boy experiences a disturbing dream, which draws him into sleuthing
Jay awoke with a start — his skin was clammy and his hair was stuck to his neck and forehead. He blinked in the dark bedroom and tried to orientate himself — what time was it? The blue glow of his alarm clock told him that it was near 3 am. He was in his room, which felt familiar and his bunk bed creaked as he moved but, he knew something had woken him, and the ‘something’ felt bad.
He lay absolutely still, trying to ‘feel’ the darkness without moving. He listened so hard he imagined the sheer effort of concentration might make his ears tilt to catch the noise again — but heard nothing out of the ordinary. The house was still, the rest of his family probably fast asleep and the dog, despite being on point as a guard dog during the day, was probably snoring downstairs in the kitchen.
Whatever had jolted J awake had made no such impression on his family. Unable to shake a feeling of menace, J tried retracing his steps using his subconscious. Forcing himself to remember what he’d been dreaming, the feeling of dread pressed in on him once more
.
J found himself on the street — the familiar route he took to and from school — yet something felt ‘off’. It was night and the moon bathed the trees and gardens with an eerie silver glow. The wind moved branches and clouds scudded along at quite a pace, while the first autumn leaves made scuttling noises as they were lifted and swirled on pavements and drives. J travelled towards home, unsure why he was out so late. He cast his eyes to either side looking for danger.
Suddenly his heart leapt in his chest. Something lurched out of the shadows. A ball of tabby fur and a lashing tail, it was a cat! Keeping low to the ground and emitting a yowl, it dashed past him to disappear just as quickly into the shadows of a nearby hedge. Was it him or something else that had startled the cat? J’s own heart was still hammering when he noticed a frail, hunched figure near the garden wall.
J could make out that it was a child, the body was too slender to be a man, but it was hard to discern gender or features. J drew closer, instinct telling him he should keep in the shadow of the hedge.
For an instant the moon was cleared of clouds and J was shocked to recognise that the hunched figure was Laurie, a boy he knew from school. His hair stuck in sweaty spikes to his forehead and cheeks and his skin had a ghostly pallor that had nothing to do with the moonlight. Now, more curious than afraid, J moved closer and called out Laurie’s name.
“Hey Laurie, what’s up?”
The other boy took a moment to focus, blinking rapidly. His chest heaved with ragged breaths. J tried again.
“What are you doing out? It’s really late.”
“They let him in.” Laurie’s voice was shaky, barely a whisper.
“What do you mean?” said J. “They let who in?”
Laurie shook, his body tense with a haunted expression.
“They just opened the door and let him in,” he reiterated sadly.
The alarm clock’s electronic bleating dragged J to the surface from his dream. Then Dad flung the bedroom door open and poked his head in.
“Fancy a boiled egg J?”
“Unh — maybe.”
It was a struggle to adjust to the fact that it was a normal morning and that the creepy events of last night had only been a dream. J swung his long legs off the side of the bed. Rubbing his head, he tried to rouse himself but the sleepiness clung. Outside his door were the sounds of a normal school morning, his younger sister was talking to the dog and clatters in the kitchen meant his Dad was getting breakfast. Now J was hungry.
It wasn’t until J slammed the front door half an hour later, to set off for school, that he had time to think about the strange events which had troubled his sleep. As he walked round Cranberry Gardens he passed Laurie’s house. Everything there appeared to be normal. He scanned the wall and the bushes, looked up at the window of Laurie’s room, but nothing seemed odd. Nothing to add to or detract from last night’s dream.
J loped on. Glancing at his watch he knew there was no time to dawdle, he had to meet Alex and get to class. He passed some pupils from his school, boys from the younger years who wore cherry red blazers. He cut through a twitchell which trimmed 5 minutes off his journey. It risked brambles that snagged and mud on his shoes, but the twitchell came out opposite Alex’s house and was used by most kids from Cranberry Gardens en route to St Ethelred’s High School.
At his friend’s front door he waited at the door for Alex to grab his rucksack, and more pupils passed by. The girls clutched folders to their chests or had colourful bags slung over their shoulders. Boys walked, hands deep in pockets, in separate groups — not many boys had the nerve to walk downhill to school in the company of a girl.
Just then his attention was caught by Laurie passing by, face pale and his eyes downcast. J called out to him — he passed right by Alex’s drive, but Laurie didn’t look up. He didn’t even seem to hear.
“What are you calling him for?” Alex was just about ready, a piece of toast in one hand. He was struggling to shrug into a black blazer that marked out the senior boys at St Ethelred’s.
“Homework,” J stalled, unwilling to talk about his strange dream just yet. “Wanted to know how he got on with the maths questions.”
Alex was not in their maths set, so he didn’t ask any more questions. Alex was more of a school ‘sports hero’: captain of the Rugby team, also representing the school for long jump. Alex and J didn’t share many classes nowadays, but they’d been friends since pre-school, when both were fascinated by dinosaurs.
The boys walked downhill. It was only a few minutes til registration and the Head was a stickler for punctuality. Luckily they could use the side gate into school — juniors had to use the main gate, at the bottom of the hill and round the corner. Darting through the narrow gateway, Alex & J cut across the quad into a low, flat-roofed building that housed their classroom. Their form teacher had not yet checked the register. They sat in their usual places and another school day began.
Second lesson was Maths. J was keen to try talking to Laurie again, so he took a desk by the window, alongside him.
“Hey Laurie, how’s it going?”
Laurie looked up slowly, his dull eyes worryingly vacant. He looked at J, or rather he looked through him. Then he looked away. Which was strange, but not as strange as his behaviour during the class. Laurie was a gifted pupil at maths, but he didn’t engage with questions or answers, in fact, he didn’t participate at all.
J craned his neck to see his notes, but Laurie had not answered any of the problems. When the lesson ended Laurie scooped up his books and left the room, without trying to catch up with his friends or talk to anyone. The boy seemed a shell of his usual self. J wondered if any of this could relate to what he’d seen in his dream?
An earlier draft of this story appeared on Wattpad, but content has been revised and expanded since then. Chapter 2 will post next week