Veiled By Nightmares

• Caitlyn Butt, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2016

At the age of twenty six, my lifelong dream of enlisting in the police force came true. A fresh, crisp uniform, an ‘A’ elegantly etched on my exam page and a polished badge heralded the beginning of my new career. All of those dreams as a young boy were becoming my reality. I spent hours honing my skills: fashioning my own pistols; innocently restraining my mother with plastic handcuffs and playing ‘cops and robbers’.
My childhood impressions of this occupation couldn’t be further from the truth. It was when I looked into the pale lifeless eyes of another; cradled a limp body in my arms; faced a grieving family, that I turned the page to the most devastating part of my life, the life that ruined my future.
I sit on the edge of my bed, grasping the sheets with my sweaty palms. Fears engulf me. A typhoon of worries suffocate me, like hands, clasping my neck, gripping tighter and tighter. I feel the desperation to escape into reality, to escape into the serene beautiful, tranquil world. Though as much as I try, the memories clutch onto my clothing, and wrench menacingly at me. I feel alone. I feel so alone.
I attempt to clear my mind and let go of the pain hauling me vulnerably into emptiness. I focus on the setting outside. The thick torrents of rain are blown off course by the wind. Heavy, bullet like raindrops ricochet off my windowsill, violently peeling off flakes of paint with each collision. I gradually drift off into a restless sleep, dreading what I might find.
As I sleep, my nightmare resembles a horror movie. Images of limp bodies, heart wrenched families and brutal crimes flash through my nightmare. I suddenly sit up in bed and gasp, filling my lungs with cool night air. My pale face resembles that of the dead. Beads of sweat coat my body and bed sheets. I look over to Maria’s side of the bed. I watch her delicate, motionless eyelids, seeking comfort and forgiveness for what I’m about to do, but receiving neither.
“I’ve had enough,” I cry wearily. “No more.” I jump out of bed. The murders, the victims, the crimes and the threats all overwhelm me. A sudden realisation hits me. Now I know what I need to do. I grasp the knife firmly in my trembling hand. A tear rolls down the crevice of my cheek. I position the knife.
Suddenly a delicate hand grips mine with immense strength. It doesn’t feel like the strength of a weightlifter or an athlete, it feels like real, pure strength. It feels like strength that will never give up. It feels like the strength that I’ve needed all of these years to overcome my past. It feels like the strength that has been here all along, by my side. A sudden realisation hits me, a real realisation. I was never, truly alone.