Scarred Knight

Dear Diary...

Chapter 1

Lake

I woke up drenched in sweat even though the chill permeated the air and had goose bumps rising on my skin. And even as my mind knew that I was in my flat, perfectly safe, I still looked around myself, unsure if the monsters from my dream had followed me here or not. My bedroom was bathed in light just as I leave it every night before going to sleep, no corner was left in the shadows but still darkness surrounded my foggy brain.

As I breathed and shed the terror from my nightmare, I gradually relaxed. And, when I felt the eyes watching me, making me realise I wasn’t alone I forgot about the nightmare and looked around my room again. I took notice of the still curtains and closed windows, but despite that I knew he was here. I could feel him in the air around me. My very personal ghost.

I breathed through my nose trying to settle my racing heart— still remembering the fear from the nightmare, as I thought about the phantom that seemed to follow me around wherever I go. It should scare me more, but the nightmare I had woken up from was more terrifying than the phantom I felt watching me. In fact, it felt like the phantom, the ghost, had pulled me out from the trap I was in. My nightmares. Or my memories that I'd somehow lost and had no recollection of, I really didn't know.

It was always dark in my nightmares. Pitch black. A little girl crying. A woman screaming to leave her daughter alone. Deep down somewhere I knew it was related to my past. The past that I didn't remember. The only thing I remembered was fear. Fear, so much of it, that sometimes it leaves me screaming in my sleep, wanting to open my eyes and see the light but unable to.

But just like now my ghost comes, and without talking, without touching me, he seems to pull me out from the dark. I hadn't ever seen him. Sometimes I wonder if it was just me, imagining things, may be I wanted a Knîght to come and protect me and I had made him up. It could be possible. Maybe, all the therapy sessions with Mrs Wilson had finally caught up to me and instead of getting better, instead of remembering what I had forgotten, maybe I was just going insane.

Still, a part of me believes that he was real. My ghost. I just wanted a small sign that he was real. So that I know that I wasn't crazy. And then what…? I don't know.

The alarm went off at my bedside table, startling my already chaotic heart. I looked at my phone and pushed the stop button just as at the same time Crook and Fudge jumped on the bed, coming to snuggle on either side of me. Crook was a small dog with a crooked ear and a limp in his front leg, I had adopted him six months ago when I'd realised that someone had broken into my old apartment. I knew I shouldn’t have adopted a dog who already has this big of a disadvantage but I couldn’t make myself ignore him when the intern there told me that they were going to put him down. So, I brought him with me. And with him I brought this vicious cat, Fudge, who loved to attack people. She was blôody thirsty little thing and I had many scratches to prove that. I was just grateful that she hasn’t went for my face yet, may be because I’m the one who feeds her.

I patted Crook as I unlocked my phone and saw a text from Liam and I quickly opened it. “Be ready. I’ll be there in thirty, had to pick Ice Princess up.” I rolled my eyes at the mention of Trace, Liam’s soon to be step sister.

Hopping out of the bed, I switched off the lights before I made my way to the bathroom for my morning routine. And as I stood there in front of the mirror brushing my teeth, I looked into my grey eyes and wondered how could they forgot what they had seen. In my nightmares only the voices, dark and scary, were heard but I never saw the faces— they were never visible, thanks to the black hole that was my past. I rinsed my mouth and looking back at my reflection I repeated the promise I had made to myself, to not let this last year go to waste and wallow in self pity. The summer vacation had done me good, I was no longer overweight and even my skin didn’t have that paleness which made me look like a ghost. It was time to leave my past where it belongs, and enjoy my present.

I walked out of the bathroom and padded toward my nightstand for my diary, which, as I stood near my bed I realised wasn’t there anymore. My brows furrowed and I pursed my lips as I walked out of the bedroom with my two little companions following me and as soon as I was in the hallway I saw the red leather bound diary on the kitchen counter. Open.

Crook and Fudge whined and meowed simultaneously as my feet moved quickly across the wooden floor until I stood beside the counter and looked down at my diary. I shivered as I saw the entry I'd made a few weeks ago when I had written about him— my ghost.

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Dear Diary,

There’s a ghost. He watches me, I can feel his eyes on me. But he never lets me see him. He’s there in the shadows hiding and watching. And sometimes I wonder if it is just my imagination, if I am going crazy. Does he exist at all?

.

I swallowed. My pulse sped up. And my heart fluttered. Where was the fear? Nowhere to be found. Instead, I felt… excited. Closing my eyes for a moment, I pursed my lips to control my reaction and looked around my small apartment. “This is not funny.” I called out as if I knew he was here somewhere, still watching me. But there was no reply and even as hard as I tried I couldn’t tell if he was there or not.

I exhaled a gust of air as I closed the diary with a snap. I will think about something. One way or the other I’d meet my ghost. It had been two months since I started to feel his eyes on me. Since the day I turned eighteen— the day I felt my ghost and the day that was another nightmare I didn't ever want to visit. But visit, I do. Often. For a reason, I didn't want to admit.

Rounding the kitchen counter, I opened the cabinet over my head and pulled out Crook’s and Fudge's food. Fudge’s little paws scratched at my legs as I walked to their pans to give them their food, but my mind was still on the ghost that haunted me or maybe haunted wasn’t the right word as I wasn’t scared of him the way I should be. I was just restless and wanted to see him, to know that he truly exists. Because, except the feeling of his eyes on me there was nothing else that would give me an idea of him being real. And now… my diary.

I knew I had put it beside me on the bedside table. Every night before going to sleep I write something on it, like a regular habit— afraid that one day I’d forget all this too, just like the past that I didn't remember. So if it moved, there was no other explanation for it other than the Ghost himself.

I patted Crook and tried to pat Fudge a bit before I went to my bedroom, taking my diary with me. I had only twenty minutes to get ready before Liam came to pick me up for my first day of the last semester. And after this, I’ll be free to do as I please.

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Thank you,for being patient...

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A. Gupta