Unwanted Blessing

The biting chill of the apartment air did little to settle the frantic pounding in Aiden’s chest. He lay sprawled on his bed, sheets tangled around his legs, the lingering dread of the nightmare a physical weight. Three monstrous figures, a ritual, and the agonizing plunge of a sharpened stick into his left eye – it had all felt horrifyingly real.

He blinked, the familiar sight of his cluttered desk and religious books a small comfort in the pre-dawn gloom. His hands flew to his face, confirming his eyes were still there, still intact, though slick with cold sweat and tears. "More nightmares. Great. Just great..." he muttered, the words tasting like ash.

His phone screen glowed 7:00 AM, a stark reminder of another typical day about to begin. Another day of pretending, another day of hiding the purple irises that now stared back from the bathroom mirror, a disturbing echo of the dreams. Cold water splashed his face, a futile attempt to wash away the terror, but the trembling in his hands persisted.

Just as he reached for his phone to check the time again, a text message pinged, jolting him. It was Veronica. "Bitch, we going or not?"

Aiden sighed, a familiar, exasperated smile touching his lips. For a brief moment, the real world, and the prospect of Veronica’s chaotic energy, felt like a much-needed escape from the darkness that plagued his nights.