Hillary_Tail of the Dog by Angel Gelique Page A

can’t talk but I know she’s begging to be set free. There’s blood on her face, cuts, bruises. She’s wearing shorts and a tank top even though it’s cold in the house. She has goose bumps on her skin and scrapes and marks all over her arms and legs. Her hair is dirty, greasy. It looks like she’s been there for a long time. Her pants are wet and she’s sitting in a puddle of her own pee. It smells, old and strong, much worse than that bag over there.” Hillary motioned to the drainage bag at the side of her bed. Dr. Bentley nodded.
    “It smells like other things too,” Hillary continued, and lowered her eyes. “It smells like she made a mess in her pants—like crap, and something else too, something that smells rotten. She’s crying, she’s been crying a long time. Her eyes are red and puffy. She’s trembling, either from the cold or from being scared—both, I think. I...I....”
    “It’s okay,” Dr. Bentley assured. He held her right hand. His hand was soft and warm. She smiled as she ran her thumb along the palm of his hand.
    “Please,” he said softly, “what else do you see? What happened next?”
    Her hand gripped his tightly as she resumed thinking about her nightmare.
    “I thought it might have been me sitting there, scared like that,” she said quietly, a tear fell from her eye.
    “How do you know it wasn’t?”
    “Because someone had a small knife, and shoved it into her upper arm and twisted it in. The girl screamed in pain. She didn’t even move. Even through the tape I could hear her shouting in pain, begging for her life. Blood poured out from the hole in her arm. Then I saw something stick a dirty finger into the hole, playing in it as if trying to fish something out of it. The girl continued to scream, but she didn’t move. She just sat there screaming. It was a monster, that monster cutting her. It sucked its bloody fingers and licked her blood off. Then...then....”
    Hillary grew visibly upset. Her breathing was labored as she became hysterical.
    “It’s okay, you’re doing a great job, Hillary. You can do this. It’s not real. It’s just a scary movie. What else happened?”
    “The monster…started biting her,” she shouted, gasping for her breath. “It took bites…from her arms…and legs. The girl shook her head…but she didn’t move…she didn’t try to get up…or run…or hit the beast away from her…or bring her hand up to protect her face…she just sat there.”
    Hillary was sobbing as she recalled the horrific details of her nightmare.
    “Go, on Hillary, continue,” Dr. Bentley prodded, he clasped his other hand over the one Hillary was now squeezing tightly.
    “The monster licked up the blood as it poured out of her wounds. The girl’s eyes were wide and looked crazy. She was barely screaming now, just moaning and crying. I think she was giving up. I think...I think she knew....” Hillary’s voice cracked as new tears flooded her eyes.
    Dr. Bentley patted her hand to let her know that she was all right.
    “She was going to die,” Hillary said frantically. “The monster just kept biting and picking at her cuts. It was eating her slowly. Then it tore the tape off the girl’s mouth.” Hillary closed her eyes as if she couldn’t bear to see anymore of the “movie.” She shook her head as she sobbed.
    “What happened, Hillary? What happened to the girl?”
    Hillary continued shaking her head. She did not want to talk about the dream any more.
    “You’re doing such a great job confronting your fears,” Dr. Bentley said softly. “Don’t stop now.”
    Hillary continued shaking her head, adamantly refusing to discuss the dream any further.
    “You know, it sounds like an awful dream, really horrible…but it’s not all that different from the other horrible dreams you’ve had. I’ve read Dr. Morrison’s notes…that beast, that monster…it’s in many of your dreams. Why are you so afraid of it now?”
    Hillary stopped shaking her head