Waing Nightmares

Hey Guys,

I appreciate the interest you've all shown in this story. I apologize for the long spell between chapters but I'm doing the best I can with the time I have.

I hope you enjoy.

********************************

Ryan tried his best to put Allison out of his mind, and almost succeeded. He'd had a busy week at work and he flopped down on his bed on Friday night totally exhausted. He'd had just about enough human contact for an entire year and he'd be the happiest man on the planet if he didn't have to see another face for the rest of the weekend. Ryan lived for the weekend, shutting himself in his bedroom and being the master of his own little world. Nothing could touch him here.

"Ryan!"

Except his mom.

"What do you want for dinner?" she shouted up the stairs.

He ignored her, hoping she'd leave him alone and go away.

"Ryan?" she opened his bedroom door and peeked in.

She had absolutely no sense of privacy.

"What is it, mom?" he asked, not bothering to look up from his phone.

"What do you want for dinner?"

"I don't know, just cook anything you want," he replied flippantly.

Why did she bother him with such inconsequential stuff?

"Whenever I do that you complain you don't want to eat what I've prepared. I don't have time to cook twice Ryan, just tell me what you want." She stood with her hands on her hips.

Reluctantly Ryan forced his focus to food. What did he want to eat? He could get something from a fast-food joint but that would mean going out. That was a big no-no in his book. He could have it delivered but then his mom would start on him about how he preferred unhealthy garbage instead of a decent home-cooked meal.

"I haven't got all day Ryan," his mom sounded agitated.

"Just cook whatever you want mom," he said exasperated.

"Fine. But if you don't like it, tough luck. You're going to have to eat it." she said as she walked out and lightly slammed the door.

Ryan put his phone away and just lay on the bed, reveling in the silence. Silence was golden. Letting the stresses of the day fade away, he absently went through what TV shows and movies he had pending to watch in his head. He hadn't gotten around to the latest season of Game of Thrones. That would occupy him for a while. He'd also gotten a new game for his PS4. Ah the joys of being a couch potato. This could turn out to be a pretty unproductive weekend if he set his mind to it, just the way he liked it.

He thought about what normal people did on weekends. Probably go out with friends and have a good time. He didn't have any friends. Not anymore. His mind drifted to a time when he did have some friends, or at least what he thought were friends. Before his mind wandered into dangerous territory he shook his head and came back to the present. He seemed to be drifting away a lot more than usual lately.

He was about to get up to retrieve his laptop when his phone buzzed. He let out a groan and covered his head with his pillow. This couldn't be happening. He just knew it would be someone at work asking for a favor, or some emergency that had cropped up. He was the Go-To guy in the event of a problem. In other words, he was the doormat of the office. Need a favor? Ask Ryan. Got a problem? Ask Ryan. Emergency? Ryan. One of these days he was seriously going to learn how to say no. Maybe there was a self help class somewhere that taught that.

The insistent buzzing didn't stop and he finally, grudgingly checked the caller ID. It was an unknown number. Even worse. He hated unknown numbers and dealing with strangers. Someone must have lost power and his colleagues must have given them his contact to sort it out. No-one wanted to go on a call-out on a Friday night. Call-outs were the most irritating part of his job. Everyone assumed that just because you were an engineer you could fix everything from a blender to an earth mover.

In his line of work, since they designed the power distribution, they were the first people to be called in case of an outage. The most irritating part about it though, was that once you were on location, most clients expect everything to be resolved instantly. They don't realize first you have to perform diagnostics and figure out the problem. Engineers aren't God, they need to perform some tests to find the faults.

Sighing heavily he swiped to answer and put the phone to his ear,

"Hello?"

Silence.

He checked to see whether the call had been disconnected but found the seconds still ticking.

"Hello?" he asked again, hoping it was a wrong number.

"H...Hi," came a small voice from the other end.

"Who is this?" Ryan asked tentatively.

"Uhmm... I don't know if you remember me...you came over to our place the other day, about...," she hesitated for a second, "...you know what? This was a bad idea. Never mind, I'm sorry for bothering you,"

Ryan recognized the voice and spoke before the other person cut the call,

"Allison?"

There was a long pause before she responded.

"Yeah,"

"Hey, how are you," he said gently, sitting up on his bed now.

He was mildly surprised she'd called and realized if she had cut the call, she probably wouldn't have had the guts to call again.

"I'm alright," she said, though she sounded anything but.

"Did you.... did you really mean what you said the other day? About.... you know," she said slowly, sounding like someone who'd reached the end of their rope and had no other choice.

He knew that feeling almost too well.

"I did Allison, and I can try and help you." He knew he should say more, "you've tried everything else haven't you? What's the harm in giving me a shot? If it works, you'll be better for it, and if it doesn't, you haven't lost anything."

"It's... it's been a really bad day," she said and he could tell she was almost at the verge of tears, "I just...... I just wanted to..... I don't know,"

He could feel the desperation even through the phone.

"Allison, is it ok if I came over?"

He knew he was risking spooking her but this talk could not happen over the phone.

"Right now?" she asked, a bit surprised.

He looked at the time, it was eight in the evening.

"If you don't mind of course. It's better if we talk face to face."

There was a pause and Ryan thought she was going to refuse.

"Actually right now isn't a good time, my dad is at home and..." she left the statement hanging.

Ryan remembered how indifferent her dad had been the first time he'd visited and felt there was something more there than met the eye. Still, it was too personal to ask something like that just yet so he diverted.

"How about tomorrow morning? Is that good?"

"Yeah, tomorrow morning is better."

"Then I'll see you in the morning. Hang in there Allison, it'll be alright, trust me, ok?"

"Yeah..." she whispered and cut the call.

Ryan stared at his phone for a while, thinking of the anguish in her voice. It was dredging up memories he didn't want and he snapped out of it, going downstairs to see what was for dinner.

***********************************

Mrs. Greene was surprised to find Ryan on her doorstep the following morning.

"Ryan?"

"She called, Mrs. Greene," he answered the unspoken question.

He could feel the hope rising in her as she understood and it made him uncomfortable. He had never been any sort of hope for anyone, quite the opposite in fact. She ushered him in and he followed her to the kitchen where she offered him some tea as she got the tray and some things from the cupboard. Placing his keys on the counter he helped her get some of the things down.

"No thanks, Mrs. Greene, I just had some before coming over," he politely declined as he sat on a chair.

"So, she called?" she came to the heart of the matter.

Ryan nodded, "Yeah, yesterday night."

Ryan debated asking what the deal was with Allison's father but decided against it. He felt he should know more about the situation first before asking any probing questions.

"Is Mr. Greene around?" he asked cautiously.

"No, he left on a business trip for the week just this morning. Shall we go?" she asked, nodding her head in the direction of the stairs.

"Mrs. Greene, I want to see her alone this time, if I may?" he asked gently.

She didn't seem too enthusiastic about it but nodded after debating it with herself. Ryan felt bad but he knew he had to have this conversation alone with Allison. As he walked up he was also glad Mr. Greene wasn't around.

He knocked softly and called out for her, wondering if she might be asleep. He heard a soft

come in

and entered to find Allison sitting on the floor hugging her knees, her back propped to the side of the bed. The look on her face almost broke his heart. She looked lost, completely alone in her world and desperately begging for someone to give her a hand and pull her out.

He closed the door and approached her cautiously.

"Allison, what's wrong? Are you ok?"

Tears had started to form in her eyes and she was shaking her head,

"I can't take it anymore," she said, barely above a whisper, "I can't do this anymore, I just can't. Please make it go away, please."

"Hey, hey," Ryan said soothingly, hurrying to her side and kneeling before her, "It's going to be ok Allison, it's all going to be alright, please, don't lose hope."

"What did I do to deserve this?" she asked in a broken voice, looking at him and searching his face for some kind of answer, some kind of explanation for the horror she was going through.

"Nothing. You did nothing wrong Allison, and sometimes bad things happen to good people, but that doesn't mean it will always be this way. You can get better and you will get better. Please just don't lose hope, don't ever lose hope. I'll help you every step of the way, just trust me for now, can you do that?"

She looked at him like she wanted to believe him but then why would this work if everything else had failed? Before she could think too much about it Ryan stood up and offered her his hand.

"Come, let's sit on the bed, the floor is killing my knees," he joked a little.

Her eyes flitted between his proffered hand and his face and he could see the fear reflected in them. Something had happened to this girl, something bad, and Ryan suspected that was the reason for her condition. For his part he gave her a warm smile that he hoped was reassuring. Haltingly she put her trembling hand in his and he pulled her up. He released her soon as she was up and she whispered her thanks.

Allison sat cross legged on the bed and grabbed a pillow to hug as Ryan sat on the edge, facing her.

"Allison... how did it start? What triggered it?"

She was silent for a while as her gaze grew distant, as if she was remembering. Her lips started trembling and he noticed her breathing visibly escalate the more she recollected and she got a terrified look on her face. She started shaking her head from side to side and whispering

no no no no...

"Allison!" he almost shouted to get her to look at him.

She focused on him and immediately broke down. Lowering her face into her hands, she silently sobbed, her shoulders wracking as she cried.

Ryan hadn't thought it would be this bad. He sat there awkwardly, knowing he should comfort her, maybe hug her, but he had never been good at these kinds of things. Not for the first time he cursed himself for being so socially inept.

"I'm sorry Allison," he tried, "You don't need to tell me what happened. You can do it when you're ready, just forget about it right now."

He awkwardly tried to pat her back and she slowly regained her composure. He got her a few tissues from her dressing table and she wiped her eyes and cleaned up her face. She looked at him with red puffy eyes and tried to smile,

"I'm sorry."

Ryan knew it was time to take matters seriously and level with her. Each day she was going farther towards the deep end and soon it would be very difficult to get her back. Anxiety was almost always followed by depression and she had started exhibiting the early signs. Once the two of them got hold, it would be extremely difficult to pull anyone out.

"Allison, I'll be very frank with you, something needs to be done about your condition, right away. I'll tell you for a fact that if you don't do something about this, it will never change. A year from now you'll still be locked up in this room, most probably worse than you are right now."

She looked at him for a moment before speaking.

"That's what you're not getting. Hasn't mom already told you?" she asked, then continued, "I've tried everything Ryan, everything!"

She was getting angry and louder with every word. Ryan was never good at being yelled at but he knew it wasn't directed at him. It was frustration at herself and her condition.

"Name it and I've tried it. Medication, Therapy, Meditation, everything! It just doesn't work."

"Have you ever considered maybe that's the problem?" he asked quietly.

"What?" she asked, squinting one eye.

Ryan knew it wouldn't make sense to her so he decided to start at the beginning.

"Do you know what's wrong with you?"

She just looked at him, trying to digest the question.

"What I mean is, do you know why all this happening to you? The panic attacks, the anxiety, why is it happening to you?"

She understood and the fire was back in her eyes.

"Don't give me that bullshit lecture, I've heard it all in therapy. Fight or flight response, the amygdala and all that garbage. Spare me the psychological mumbo jumbo, it didn't help then and it won't help now."

Ryan was glad she at least knew the basics. Now he had to find out if she had any underlying mental condition prior to all this. He knew his way around anxiety but he wasn't stupid enough to think he could treat any other conditions she might have had.

"Before all this started, were you ok? I mean, did you have any mental problems or anything?"

She shook her head, "No, none that I can think of."

Ryan nodded, going over it in his head. He sighed then started speaking again,

"I'll tell you what I think and you might have heard it all before but just bear with me. It seems to me something happened to you, something terrible, and it must have triggered your initial panic attack. The problem is that whatever happened to you passed but your mind remained stuck in that place and is perpetually in the fight or flight mode."

The look she was giving him assured him he was at least somewhat right.

"In the beginning your panic attacks were almost always about that incident, whatever it was, but gradually you started getting them out of the blue, for no apparent reason. Soon, you started getting anxious because you didn't know when the next attack would hit, so you were always in a state of high alert. You were getting anxiety about getting anxiety. You feared you'd get it at work, or outside when you were around people so you slowly started avoiding situations that made you feel unsafe and exposed eventually you stopped going out at all."

"I did get it at work," she said quietly, "it was one of the worst feelings in the world. I was surrounded by people and I've never felt so utterly alone or so terrified. I barely made it to the washroom before I threw up. I quit the next week."

"And after that, you slowly cut yourself off from all outside contact," Ryan said, more of a statement than a question.

Allison nodded, staring down at her hands.

"How long have you had this disorder for? A year?"

She nodded.

"And how often do you get the panic attacks?"

"Almost every day now, though some days are worse than others."

"And yet here you are," he said, spreading his palms.

"Have your panic attacks ever harmed you? Have they physically hurt you in any way?"

She shook her head slowly.

"Don't you think if something bad was to happen, it would have happened already? I mean, it's been a year,"

She tried to answer but couldn't come up with anything.

"But... you don't know how it feels. It's horrible," she said, feebly, "you can't possibly know what I go through every day, every waking moment..."

Ryan sighed tiredly, looking down at his feet.

"Impending sense of doom, heart threatening to burst out of your chest, intense chills, dry mouth, feeling like you're going to die, frantically trying to look around for any kind of escape?"

The way Ryan recited the symptoms, as if he had actually felt them, rather than read them in a book, made Allison look at him suspiciously. He had a faraway look in his eyes, like he was remembering something he shouldn't.

"I know, Allison," he continued softly, still looking at the floor, "I know the nights, crying yourself to sleep, waking up in the dead of the night, chilled to the bone but somehow still sweating, knowing that this was the end, that this was the night you were going to die. I know the feeling of going crazy, the desperation, when you look around for someone, anyone, to pull you out of that hell hole, but there's no one there," he shook his head slightly, "there's never anyone there..." he finished quietly.

He jerked his head up, as if remembering where he was and found Allison giving him a surprised and knowing look.

"You too?" she asked softly.

He gave her a sad smile, "That obvious, huh?"

She smiled back and this time it actually reached her eyes, "No textbook or friend could ever put the feelings into those words. Why didn't you tell me?"

Ryan shrugged and scratched the back of his neck, "I don't know. I've never talked to anyone about it. Except my first psychiatrist, but I soon figured out that was useless and stopped mentioning it altogether. It's still difficult remembering it, I try to avoid thinking or talking about it at all costs."

"So you got better?" she asked hopefully.

This was the first time he had seen anything close to hope in her eyes. He couldn't let her down. He knew how important that flicker of hope was, it was like lungful of air for a drowning man. He would have to fan that flicker and make it grow until it was a full blown blaze that would carry her through this nightmare because in the end, hope is all we have.

"Yes Allison, I did get better, and so will you."

"How?"

"I'm going to ask you one question, and it all depends on your answer."

She nodded somewhat hesitantly.

"Do you want to get better?"

"Of course I do," she said indignantly.

"Allison I'll ask you again, do you want to get better?"

"Yes!" she almost shouted, "what kind of a question is that?"

"I'm asking because it's all up to you. I can show you the way Allison. I'll even walk it

with

you, but always remember, I can't walk it

for

you. No one can."

She eyed him quizzically, "What do you mean?"

"I mean you need to stop looking elsewhere for a solution and instead look at yourself. The problem with this disorder is that it feels so bad that we focus all our energy on trying to get away from it or trying to find something that will gain us relief from it. Here's the newsflash, no one can make it go away. Not me, not your therapist, not even the drugs you take. The only one who can help you is yourself."

The look she was giving him clearly said she didn't understand and he didn't blame her. It took him forever to get it as well.

"You told me you've tried everything right?"

She nodded.

"Why don't you just stop trying? You've clawed, you've scratched, you've fought and you've lost. Why not stop trying? "

"You want me to give up?" she gave him an incredulous look.

Ryan shook his head, "Not give up. Accept."

"Accept?" Allison looked at him like he was speaking Cantonese.

"Yes, accept. Allison anxiety is a part of you. It is a mechanism designed to protect you but in certain cases it malfunctions, kind of like a glitch in a computer, but in its truest essence it is there for your benefit, it's just trying to get you to safety. Your anxiety is stuck in a loop, a vicious loop that you keep feeding every time you get anxious."