Page 107 of Plaything

“Dominic?” I placed my hands on his arms. “Dominic, you’re squeezing me.” I tried to push his arms off of me, a new panic settling in. “Let go!” With all my might, I broke away from him.

Stumbling forward, I turned to snap at him. When I turned, I was no longer my six-foot self. I was much closer to the ground than before. Dominic was nowhere in sight, and the room had changed. What was once a room used for storage was now a blurry room.

A sinking sensation washed over me as I saw three large figures standing a few feet away. Squinting my eyes changed nothing; I couldn’t make out anything but shapes.

“What if she wakes up?” An echoing voice asked.

“Who?” I asked, but my voice wasn’t heard. “Who are you talking about?!” I screamed into the open air. As much as I shouted, I couldn’t even hear my words.

I was trapped in this dream. I tried pinching myself, but my arms wouldn’t move. Once again, I was asleep; only this time, I was conscious of the dream playing out in front of me.

The body I was in was my younger—apparently sleepwalking—self. The shapes around the room mimicked Charles’ wing from my nightmare yesterday.

It’s not real, Odette. Wake up!

One of the figures turned to the other two. “He’s been giving her sleeping supplements. She’s never woken in the handful of times I’ve come for a business meeting,” another voice responded.

“Get away!” I screamed, trying to step back from the men, but I couldn’t make my past body move. I was stuck.

“He only leaves for twenty minutes,” the same voice echoed. The middle figure moved towards me before I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder, touching the strap of the cami I wore.

“Charles said no touching?”

“Who’s going to tell him? Come on, it’s just a little touching.”

I was screaming, but not even a whisper left my lips as the strap was slid off my shoulder.

The other two figures moved closure, touching their waists. “Just remember to clean up any mess you make,” the man behind me instructed.

With a gasp, I opened my eyes. I was my adult, usual self again, lying in Dominic’s bed. Quickly turning, I examined Dominic’s sleeping face. In our sleep, we’d somehow shifted to our own sides of the bed—though our legs were intertwined. I envied the peaceful expression he wore. He surely wasn’t having sick, demented nightmares like I was plagued with.

My imagination couldn’t possibly be that dark. Charles had always been the villain in my life, but for my subconscious to paint him in such a sick, corrupt way... it was beyond unsettling.

As much as the mere thought of it made bile rise—I began to worry there was truth in the dreams.

I lay there pondering the possible and impossible. If the images were true, why was I recalling them now? If not, what triggered me to create such horrific scenes?

Most of me, the rational part, knew there was simply no possibility that Charles would ever stoop as low as pimping out his child daughter. The paranoid, self-loathing part of me was saying what if.

Feeling dirty from the dream, I let Dominic sleep as I showered in my bathroom. It took great effort, but eventually, I forced myself to think of anything other than the dream.

Instead, I pushed the thoughts out of my mind and busied myself with making breakfast. Luckily, when Pops fixed the stove, it stayed fixed, and I didn’t almost catch myself or anything else around me on fire.

I’d finished making one pot of coffee and three pancakes when Dominic appeared in the kitchen. “I didn’t hear you get up,” he said.

He was dressed very formally, in black slacks and a navy blue button-up. Examining his outfit, I lifted my brows. “What’s on the agenda for today?” I pried.

Making himself a cup of coffee, he leaned against the counter. “I have a meeting.”

“I thought Tuesdays were your day off?” I recalled while flipping a pancake. “I’m not going to eat all of these myself,” I invited with a smile.

Stepping behind me to grab a plate of pancakes, his hand slid across my waist. Pathetically, the gesture made my stomach flutter.

“They are. Many students taking my class are on the path to becoming doctors. Every few years, I get a doctor to come into class to talk about what he does. This guy’s the best of the best; every other anatomy, biology, or anything health-related Professorgets jealous when he chooses to present in my class,” Dominic explained proudly. “He’s speaking in my classes tomorrow, and he’ll be here soon to go over topics that’ll be covered.”

“Oh, I heard something about this! My thermodynamics teacher had a guest speaker last quarter,” I smiled. It was cool because we basically had a free day without any assignments and a better understanding of what life actually looks like from someone with an occupation in the field I wanted to go into.

“I’ve had students quit after his lectures before. He doesn’t sugarcoat anything. It weeds out the students that don’t have what it takes,” he deadpanned.

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