Dark figures in cloaks. Everyone I love, standing watching, doing nothing. A shadow breathing down my neck. He’s cold, and his voice sends a shudder up my spine. I’m trapped in here with him, because they think I am what he is. A monster. I used the narrative to bring in the primary players, the cloaked members of the SDC—family, friends, and those in between—appearing in front of the frosted glass. Using my artistic flair, I added detail to my mother’s sad face, drawing in the crow’s feet around her eyes and the trembling of her lower lip as she condemned her daughter to a life of imprisonment. I did the same with my father, manipulating his face so that he had it turned away, his eyes lowered as if he couldn’t even look at me. For Tobe and Genie, I made sure they looked distraught, their eyes wide and glittering with un-spilled tears. I needed it to hit me hard.
It’s safer for everyone… As if I had pressed play on a paused screen, the scene began to play out as it did in my dreams. I didn’t have that nightmare as often as I used to, but it still popped in once a week, usually around the same time I Purged. I’d chosen the trigger most likely to set me off, as my psyche now associated the two things.
I was inside the box now, no longer seeing it as a projection but feeling as though I were actually, physically, painfully there. Everyone began to turn away from me, the jangle of keys rattling in my ears and giving the imprisonment a sense of finality. It played out familiarly. I screamed. I pounded at the glass. There was blood, sweat, and tears. And I was infinitely alone.
Except for one person, if you could call him that.
Persephone? Are you in pain? Leviathan’s voice boomed in my skull, but he wasn’t behind me, as he always was in this nightmare. This was the real Leviathan, making contact through my meditative state. Persephone, talk to me. Are you reaching out to me? Are you in trouble? I am here. I am always here.
I scrambled free of the image I’d crafted in my mind, using the skills Victoria had taught me to unravel what I’d built. It began with pushing my finger hard into the slight dip behind my ear, where there was a nerve point—a trigger method we’d worked on long and hard so I would always have a way out of the “re-experiencing walks,” as she called them. The box stayed exactly where it was, my family and friends still visible in the near distance. Utter terror seized me, freezing the blood in my veins. The nerve trick had never failed before, but my memory wasn’t fading.
Persephone? Your heart is beating too fast. Calm down, my darling. You must breathe… Leviathan urged.
I pushed harder into the nerve point behind my ear, still crying from the experience of the nightmare. I didn’t know if it was possible to get stuck inside a memory, but this wasn’t one I wanted to be trapped in.
I felt cold fingertips on my neck, brushing back my hair. I am here, my Persephone. You must calm down. Your heart is beating too fast and you have forgotten to breathe. I became vaguely aware of Leviathan behind me, his scaly arms wrapping around my waist until my back was flush to his armored chest. I am expending a great deal of energy to join you here, in this memory. You must listen before I have to go. Breathe with me. I need you to breathe, my darling.
My hands somehow held onto his forearms, my fingertips sensing every ridge and indent of his scales, as though he really were here. I… can’t. I can’t get out.
You can, and you must. Breathe with me. I felt his chest rise against my back, and instinctively took a breath to match his. I held it until he exhaled, following his example. Over and over, I copied the rhythm of his breathing, the panic subduing in my chest. I felt as though I were meditating all over again, but within my own mind, a Russian nesting doll of meditations. Now, release yourself from the memory, he said softly, and I felt the hiss of his breath against my cheek.
Lifting my finger, I pressed it into the dip behind my ear… and everything fell away. The glass shattered and the darkness erupted into light, my eyes flying open to find myself back in Victoria’s office, panting for dear life. She stood in front of me, her hands on my arms as though she had been shaking me.
“Persie, are you all right?” she gasped, paler than I had ever seen her.
I nodded uncertainly. “I got… stuck.”
“There were wisps of black smoke coming off you, but I couldn’t snap you out of it!” She sounded as panicked as I’d felt. “You were shaking and mumbling and sweat was pouring off you. I really thought you might have cracked it, but then I wasn’t able to stir you...”
I pressed the back of my hand to my forehead. Sure enough, I wiped away a slick of sweat. “There was smoke? For real?”
“There was, but… I don’t know if we should try that again.” Victoria straightened up, masking the panic with her usual brand of firm confidence. “What was the memory, if you don’t mind me asking? Perhaps it held too much emotion.”
“It was my box dream,” I admitted. I’d told her about it many times before, though I always left out the part where Leviathan spoke to me. I didn’t want her thinking that was a regular occurrence.
Victoria pursed her lips. “Let us leave it there for today. Next time, I think we ought to use a slightly less perturbing memory. Something that still sparks sadness or anger or panic, but nothing quite so volatile. I did not enjoy seeing you like that. One should never be trapped inside their own mind.” She unleashed a strained breath. “I thought I was going to have to get some of the Scholars in here to try and release you or use a spell or two of my own. But I do not like to meddle in the affairs of another’s mind.”
I nodded, getting up on unsteady legs. “I’ve got to go and clean the dojo floor anyway, but I’ll make a note of this in my monster journal so I know what to avoid next time.”
“Good idea.” Victoria leaned against her desk, gripping the edges tight. I’d evidently concerned her. It was the closest to rattled I had ever seen her, and that, in turn, rattled me. If Leviathan hadn’t managed to get me to breathe, would I really have gotten stuck in my own mind? I didn’t even want to think about it, but as I left Victoria’s office, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of gratitude toward the monster who had given me this curse.
Leviathan and I were quickly developing the epitome of a love-hate relationship. Sometimes, when I needed answers, he gave me the silent treatment or became the master of evasion tactics. But then there were times when he showed up like that, making it impossible to decide what to make of him.
For now, I chose to be thankful, until he gave me a reason to hate him again.
Three
Persie
I swept and scrubbed the dojo for a good half-hour, wiping clean every trace of my failures and the dread that my session with Victoria had left in the pit of my stomach. I wanted to start fresh the next time I walked into this room and hers. Maybe that was why Marcel got the biggest loser to clean house after the session. It looked, to the unknowing eye, like a penalty. But it was actually an opportunity to reflect on where I’d mis-stepped and where I could do better, going over the very ground where I’d made my mistakes. I supposed it made a poignant parallel to my work with Victoria, too. My mom would have laughed herself into a burst blood vessel if I’d admitted this to her, after the arguments we used to have about the state of my bedroom—paints and pencils and papers and canvases everywhere—but there was a serenity and a meditative quality to be found in sweeping and scrubbing.