Symbiosis - Dreaming part 2

2543 (23-3rd-6) New Calendar - Prima Centurai

“Why won’t you talk to me, Arla?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

The answer was short, and left Baroth feeling distinctly Told. It disturbed him deeply. Overnight, Arla seemed to have been transformed from the innocent child she had been into something old and bitter; and worse, she was trying to block off her emotions again. She seemed to be succeeding, too.

“Will you listen to me, then? Just for a minute?” Baroth pleaded. “Then, if you’re utterly not interested I can go again.”

Arla glanced at him briefly, her eyes unreadable. She shrugged, hunched into the corner, her legs drawn up to her chest. Baroth nodded heavily, and lowered his massive frame to the floor.

“Right,” he said, ordering his thoughts. “Something has happened to you that is hurting you deeply, inside your mind. Do you agree?”

She remained motionless and silent, staring at her feet. He took it as a ‘yes’.

“And now you’re trying to avoid it,” Baroth continued. “Because you’re understandably afraid of ‘reliving’ it, and by talking about it you’ll have to think about it.”

Arla buried her head between her knees, hiding her face.

“The problem with emotional pain, Arla, is that it’s like a poison,” Baroth said gently. “It gets in, and it hurts. But getting it out would hurt slightly more – so people try to ignore it, and push it further inside where it hurts less. But although they don’t feel it as strongly anymore, it still hurts them. It carries on doing damage, deep inside. Do you understand?”

He knew she did, but he needed her to admit it herself. There was a silence, as neither of them moved. Finally, Arla pulled her head back up and looked at Baroth, her cheeks stained with tears. She crawled towards him and curled up by his side, child-like and vulnerable, and he threw an arm around her and drew her close. They stayed like that for a while, whilst Arla cried into his chest.

Eventually she shivered, and looked up at him.

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered, her eyes red. Baroth hugged her tightly.

“Please, just talk to me,” he said quietly. “Tell me about it. You only have to relive this once, in this way.”

“But I don’t want to,” Arla choked, her voice breaking. He could feel her trembling in his arms. “I don’t want to think about it.”

“Let’s start there,” Baroth said. “Tell me exactly why. What are you afraid of?”

“It…” Arla trailed off, but Baroth recognised the cogs turning in her head, and stayed quiet. “It felt so real, when I saw it,” she managed. “Or not… not entirely real, but I was as scared, and it hurt as much. And I thought it was real, at the time. It was only when I woke up that it wasn’t anymore.”

She paused, thinking again. Baroth wiped a strand of dark hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

“I think that – I’m scared that if I think about it now, I’ll see it again tonight,” Arla said, her voice slightly stronger with the new application of logic. “If I tell you about it now… you’re right: it’ll hurt, but I know it’s just a memory. But when I dream I think it’s real.”

Baroth squeezed her close. “I see,” he murmured. “Well… unfortunately, you’ll dream about it whether you talk about it or not. But if you do talk to me, you’ll stop dreaming it. You see?”

Arla nodded.

“Okay,” Baroth said. “First of all, I want you to imagine that the whole thing has happened to someone else who you can see. Imagine the first image in your mind, okay?”

“Okay,” Arla said.

“Don’t see it as you. See it happening to another girl.”

“Okay.”

“Good,” said Baroth gently. “Now: tell me what happened to that girl.”