Inversion Read online

  INVERSION

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  CHRISTOPHER YOUNG

  Copyright © Christopher Young 2020

  All rights reserved. The right of Christopher Young to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs, and Patents Act 1988.

  No part of this publication may be altered, reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form, by any means, including, but not limited to, scanning, duplicating, uploading, hosting, distributing, or reselling, without the express prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of reasonable quotations in features such as reviews, interviews, and certain other non-commercial uses currently permitted by copyright law.

  Disclaimer:

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, locations, and businesses are purely products of the author’s imagination and are entirely fictitious. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, places, or events is completely coincidental.

  Inversion by Christopher Young.

  Cover design by Ida Fia Sveningsson.

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FORTY

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  For my brother, Caleb

  CHAPTER ONE

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  HIS SENSES WERE ON fire. Everything about the small, cluttered room worked in unison to make him feel as uncomfortable as possible. The cracked yellow leather sofa. The overpowering smell of roses. The incessant ticking of the clock.

  The clock was what was really getting underneath his skin. No matter how hard he tried, Carson couldn’t keep his eyes away from it. He tapped his foot along with each passing second.

  “Carson? Did you hear me?”

  His foot stopped tapping. “What?”

  The middle aged woman that sat across from him sighed loudly. She pulled off a pair of thin-rimmed glasses from her face and carefully set them on top of the small table beside her. Strands of her long, blonde hair fell in front of her face. She brushed them aside with a swipe of her hand.

  “We don’t have a lot of time this morning,'' Dr. Taylor said. “I need you to try and stay focused.”

  “I am,” Carson said defensively.

  He shifted his body in a vain attempt to find a more comfortable position.

  Carson absent-mindedly ran his hand through his short, black hair, making sure that it was still styled correctly. Dr. Taylor wrote something down in the journal she held against her lap. Carson watched her pen move, gritting his teeth. He reminded himself to be careful. She was scrutinizing every move he made, no matter how small.

  “Have you been taking your anxiety meds?” She asked without looking up.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Good.” She continued to write.

  “And home? How are things with your mom?”

  Carson sighed. He nervously buried his hands into his lap and stared down at the room's ugly brown carpet. Usually he was better at lying but something about being in this room with Dr. Taylor took that ability away. He could feel her eyes burning a hole through him.

  “Everything’s fine,” he lied.

  “Carson?”

  He looked up to meet her intense gaze.

  “We’ve talked about being honest during our sessions, haven’t we?”

  “It’s fine, I promise,'' he said, a little too harshly.

  “Alright then,'' she said with a fake smile on her face. A minute of silence filled the room. No writing or talking. Just silence and the steady ticking of the clock.

  Finally Dr. Taylor readied the pen in her hand.

  “Last time you were here you started to tell me about the new nightmare you’ve been having. Tell me more about that dream.”

  ***

  The dream started with a whisper.

  Help me.

  Carson shivered. The ethereal voice sent a chill down his spine. He stood perfectly still, too afraid to move. Even with his eyes closed he knew that he was dreaming. The cold wind that blew against his skin didn’t feel like any other that he had felt. It was a hollow feeling.

  The voice called out to him again. It came from everywhere at once.

  Help me.

  Carson slowly opened his eyes. As his eyes adjusted to the muted grey light he found himself standing in a large, empty field. Thick green grass danced back and forth along the cool breeze that covered his arms in goosebumps. The sea of green didn’t seem to have an end. Dark clouds loomed overhead. Sweat dotted Carsons’ forehead despite the chilly air.

  Carson focused on his breathing. In and out. It was all he could do to keep himself from laying down and curling up into a ball.

  Help me.

  The voice whispered into his ear. Carson instinctively swatted it away like an annoying fly.

  No matter how afraid he was he knew that there was only one way out of this nightmare.

  He was going to have to go through it.

  Carson took a cautious step forward. The world around him certainly looked beautiful, peaceful even. He took another tentative step, testing the ground.

  The disembodied voice grew impatient. It yelled at him from somewhere on the wind, its tone angry.

  Help me!

  Carson bolted forward. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him. Searing pain tore through him with each step. The clouds above Carson grew darker as he ran. His shadow slowly faded into the grass as an inky darkness descended on the field.

  Carson stole a glance at the malevolent clouds above him. The soft grey sky had become a sickening mixture of green and black.

  Not long after he had started running Carson came to a hard stop. His breathing was short and ragged. He held onto his side, trying to contain the painful stitch that was pulsating just beneath his skin. Carson waited for the voice to call out to him again but it never did.

  The light breeze suddenly picked up. Carson fought against it, trying to stay upright. An ear-splitting crack of thunder called his attention towards the sky. He watched in terror as the clouds drooped towards the ground, blobs of grey falling onto the field in front of him. Carson backed up, too afraid to do anything else. More and more blobs followed the first, each one combining with the last.

  The grey vapor started to take shape. The thing looked like a man but it was far from it. Long, bony fingers jutted out from what Carson assumed was its hands. The monster's mouth hung open as if it was permanently screaming. Still parlayzed with fear al
l Carson could do was watch.

  Without warning the beast stood on its bent legs and threw its head back. The blood curdling roar it let out snapped Carson out of his trance. He ran as fast as he could. The dead air crackled with electricity. Flashes of lightning jumped between the clouds above him. The grass quickly became slick with rain. The thing wasn’t far behind him. It growled as it ran, clawing at Carson’s ankles. He could feel the warmth of its breath.

  Adrenaline burned through his veins, pushing him to run faster.

  Just as he had managed to put some distance between himself and the monster Carson’s foot slipped on the grass. He tumbled onto the ground with a hard thud. His breath was painfully knocked out of him. He tried to stand but immediately fell back down. Carson pulled up the cuff on his pants. His ankle was twisted at an unnatural angle. He closed his eyes and waited for the monster to catch him.

  Only it didn’t.

  Minutes passed by and all he could hear was his own cries of pain. Even the churning clouds above him stopped moving. Carson tried to slow his breathing. Nausea crept up in the back of his throat. He swallowed it back down.

  When he finally opened his eyes he found himself face to face with the nightmare. Hot, rotten breath oozed out of its mouth. The thing just sat there, staring at him with dead eyes. Carson stayed as still as he could. Blood pulsed behind his ears. Slowly, the monster reached for him and wrapped its hand around his face. Carson’s vision blackened and his mouth filled with a viscous liquid. He tried to spit the goo out but more took its place. The bitter taste of rust overtook the rest of his senses. Carson could feel himself slipping into unconsciousness, his lungs screaming for air. The monster refused to give in, pushing its hand deeper into his throat.

  All at once everything went black.

  ***

  Carson fidgeted with the watch that was tightly wrapped around his wrist. He toyed with the bright reflections it made on the wall with the sunlight caught on its face.

  “How many times have you had this dream since we last spoke?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe four or five times?”

  Dr. Taylor scratched his response onto her notebook.

  “I know we covered your anxiety meds but what about your sleeping pills? Have you been taking those?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “You have to be taking your medicine, Carson. None of them are going to work like they’re supposed to unless you are consistently taking them.”

  She flipped through her notebook, rereading the pages of notes she had been saving over the past year.

  “If I’m being completely honest, I don’t think that you’ve made much progress since the beginning of the year. You’re still having nightmares. Granted their content is changing but I still think that they are all stemming from the same source.”

  Carson gripped the arm of the couch. He didn’t want her to start talking about the so-called source of his problems. Not today.

  “I have to go,'' he said, standing abruptly. “I have something important going on this morning at school. I can’t be late.”

  Dr. Taylor looked up at him with pleading eyes.

  “You have to help me to be able to help you. Take the medicine and do the exercises I taught you whenever you’re feeling stressed or angry. They will help, trust me.”

  “I will,'' Carson said. He knew the words were a lie before they even left his lips.

  “The human mind is both a blessing and a curse,'' she said to him as he left. “It’s such a powerful thing when it’s not working against us. I don’t want to see a great one such as yours go to waste.”

  CHAPTER TWO

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  CARSON WAITED ON THE concrete steps of Dr. Taylor’s office, hoping that she didn’t look out of her window to see him waiting. He picked at the weeds that were sprouting through the cracks, thinking about what she had said. How does she know how great his mind is? What was so special about him?

  He didn’t notice the black SUV that pulled up next to the curb.

  “Hurry,'' his mother called out to him from the open passenger window. “We’re going to be late.”

  Carson climbed into the car and slammed the door behind him. Ellie took off before he could even put his seatbelt on.

  “What’s the hurry,” Carson asked as they sped down Main Street.

  “I have a big meeting in Augusta today. I’m already going to be late.” It sounded like she was blaming him. “I need to be back in time if we’re going to go.”

  “Oh.”

  Ellie kept her eyes on the road. “You’re going to go with me right? You promised that you would.”

  “I know but I haven’t had a good week. I don’t want to make it worse.”

  Ellie scoffed.

  “What?”

  “You’re always having a bad week,” Ellie said.

  Carson turned to stare out of the window. “I don’t want to fight about this right now.”

  “Fine. I’ll go alone like I always do.”

  Carson pressed his head against the cool window and watched as the town passed by. With a population of less than six thousand people, Bishop Bay was by far the smallest town in Maine. Lying dead center between the Atlantic Ocean and Durham State Forest it was the perfect location for sightseers, especially those who enjoyed watching the trees change colors. Fall was an especially busy time.

  At least it had been.

  Bishop Bay had just come out of its slowest season in decades. To say that the sudden drop in tourists hurt the many family owned businesses that had grown dependent on them was an understatement. Carson had lost count of how many sleepless nights his mother had endured over the past year. All eyes were on the mayor to find a solution that would save the town. He could see the toll it was taking on her.

  The further they drove through downtown the more he could see sheets of red paper flashing by. Each one had the word EVICTION printed on it in bold letters. His heart dropped when he saw a matching sheet on the door of his favorite pizza place.

  “When did Richard’s close,” Carson asked, finally breaking the silence.

  “Friday night was their last.”

  Carson shook his head. “Damn. I really liked that place.”

  “Watch your language,” Ellie said sternly.

  Carson lifted his head from the window to look at her. “You couldn’t have done anything to keep them open?”

  Ellie pursed her lips together. It was the same question she had heard over a hundred times in the past week alone.

  “I would have loved to but if I give Richard’s special treatment then I have to help everyone else. The town can’t handle that right now. Electricity and gas prices just keep climbing. People can’t afford to pay the bills that are required just to keep the building running. Now that the tourists aren’t coming out in the fall. . .”

  Ellie trailed off, losing herself in her thoughts. Carson imagined what was going on in her head. It scared him just as much as it scared her. The world was changing too quickly and not in a good way.

  Desperate to change the subject Ellie pulled a white envelope from the center console.

  “You got this in the mail yesterday,” Ellie said. She held it up high enough for him to see.

  The top had already been torn open. The name Stanford was printed on the corner in bold red letters.

  “You’re going through my mail now?” Carson snatched the letter out of her hand.

  “I wouldn’t have to if you’d actually talk to me about things.” Her expression shifted to something a little more sad. “You got in by the way.”

  “I did?” He excitedly tore the letter from the envelope, scanning over the words. He let out a sigh of relief. She wasn’t lying. He had been accepted.

  Ellie tightened her grip on the steering wheel. She wanted nothing more than to scream but she knew that it would only make things worse. Carson could hear the leather creaking under her hands.
r />   “What about going to school in Augusta? I thought you had that engineering internship over the summer.”

  Carson groaned. “That was your choice. It’s not like I wanted to go to that school anyways.”

  The thought of moving hundreds of miles away to an unknown place with unfamiliar faces filled him with a strange excitement.

  Ellie turned too quickly onto the next street. Carson fought against the pull of the car.

  “I don’t get it,” she asked.

  “Get what?”

  “I don’t get why I spend hundreds of dollars a month for you to see a therapist and still haven’t learned to just tell me the truth. I don’t know why you’re so scared to admit that you are running away.”

  Carson stifled a laugh. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

  “Maybe when you admit that you do the same.” Carson instantly regretted what he said. It was a low-blow and he knew it. He could feel the sting of her glare even though her eyes weren’t on him.

  “This isn’t about me. Your future is important and I don’t want you throwing it away.”

  “Why can’t you just let me make my own decisions.”

  “Because you aren’t going to make the right one,'' Ellie said.

  Carson let out a throaty laugh. She was being ridiculous.

  “This isn’t a joke,'' Ellie said. “You need to find a school closer by Monday.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Then you’re on your own.”

  Carson jumped out of the car before Ellie had the chance to fully stop. He slammed the door behind him without saying another word to her. He couldn’t believe that she was threatening to cut him off. Carson walked across the large grassy field that led to the main building of Bishop Bay High. With the town being as small as it was, everyone from grades eight through twelve were crammed in the four buildings that made up the school. Spending the last five years attending the same school made Carson feel trapped. He was more than happy to be moving on to a far away college. He just needed to make it through graduation first.

  He felt someone pull hard on his backpack.