Cthulhu Lies Dreaming: Twenty-three Tales of the Weird and Cosmic by Salomé Jones & Peter Rawlik & Lynne Hardy & Mike Davis & Lynnea Glasser & Leeman Kessler

Author:Salomé Jones & Peter Rawlik & Lynne Hardy & Mike Davis & Lynnea Glasser & Leeman Kessler
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9780957627178
Publisher: Ghostwoods Books
Published: 2016-02-20T07:00:00+00:00

He Sees You in His Dreams

by Samuel Morningstar

My new therapist was young and pretty, but her office was a dive. The college diploma on her wall looked like it had been printed off a computer. It was the only decoration on the blue, peeling walls. We were sitting on cold metal folding chairs. “And how long have these nightmares been plaguing you, Mr. Hewlett?” she asked, from across a very plain table.

“Nine months,” I answered. “Ever since...”

“What?” the therapist prompted.

She was court appointed, which probably explained the cheap sparseness of the office. The last thing I wanted to be doing was talking to a therapist, but I couldn’t get disability without someone signing off that I was mentally unfit to work. I’d forgotten her name two seconds after she’d told it to me, but she resembled Betty from the old Archie comics, right down to the ponytail. She was my third therapist in as many weeks, and I was determined to give her the same amount of information I’d given the last two.

“I can’t.” I swallowed hard. “Talk about it.”

“Mr. Hewlett,” Betty said, in what she probably thought was a no-nonsense tone. Her voice was too squeaky for any authority figure. “You describe symptoms which are textbook Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Almost too textbook, if you catch my drift.” She picked up a manila folder, opened it, and leafed through. “The problem is, there’s no precipitating trauma in your chart. Interviews with your co-workers indicate everything seemed fine until one day you just stopped coming in to work. No family or friends that you’ll tell us about. No police reports. There’s no corroborating evidence that you’ve suffered any kind of trauma that would cause PTSD. Unless you can give me something more than vague nightmares, I’m going to have to recommend denial of your claim. You can appeal with a judge if you want, but I wouldn’t be optimistic.”

Damn. For a second, I considered getting up and leaving. But my savings were just about gone. When my father had died a couple of years ago, I’d inherited his house and a stack of unpaid bills. He’d been more of a drinker than a worker. Selling his house and car, I’d ended up with about twenty grand after paying off his debts. I’d been living off it ever since I quit my job, but even being frugal I could see the end of my green coming. I’d heard getting disability for mental issues was easier than for physical problems, but so far that wasn’t bearing out.

Fuck it. It wasn’t fair to blow Betty’s little mind with my story, but I hadn’t chosen this path. She’d never believe me, but if she wanted evidence I was mentally unstable...

“Fine,” I said. “You remember those disappearances last year? Those girls?”

“Yes,” she said, carefully.

“I saw the last one. I don’t remember much, just flashes, but I was there when she was taken. I saw what happened to her.” I was staring into Betty’s widening blue eyes.

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