Dread Page #2

And he'd work late.

And by the time he'd get home,

my mom would always be asleep.

I'd lay there on my pillow

and listen to the sound of his boots

walk to my bedroom door.

I don't know if my mother

just pretended not to know

what the f*** was going on

or if she was just too weak.

You don't... You don't need to do this.

But...

What I remember the most about it

was the way...

The way his flesh smelled

when he'd come home from work.

This heavy, metallic smell

that would follow him home from the plant,

like warm blood on the grass,

cold fat in the freezers.

I can hardly stand to look

at a piece of meat now,

let alone think about eating it.

Looks like I'll be taking iron supplements

for the rest of my life, huh?

That's what I'm talking about,

some f***ing, honest-to-God trauma!

Yeah? I showed you mine,

now you show me yours.

Come on, Quaid.

How'd your parents f*** you up?

I just don't want...

Hey. I'm gonna go ahead and stay the night.

I've already missed the last train.

Wake up. Stephen, he's in the house!

Quaid, Quaid, Quaid, what is it?

What is it? You okay?

Hey, what is it?

Just a dream.

That didn't sound like just a dream.

No, it was nothing. Just go back to bed.

No.

You practically know my whole life story.

Yeah, but when it comes to you,

I don't know much at all.

My parents were killed

when I was six years old, Stephen.

They were murdered

right in front of my eyes.

Killed with the axe

from my father's tool shed.

Never caught the man that did it.

I don't know how I got away, but I did.

I ran and I ran,

and I've never really stopped.

Don't tell anyone, Stephen.

- Promise me.

- I promise.

Well, hello, creepy.

Quaid came in looking for you yesterday.

- Yeah, what'd he want?

- Don't know.

But he asked me if I'd model for him.

- What did you say?

- I said, "F***, no. "

Politely, of course.

But for a while,

I thought he might actually convince me.

- Can I pay for this?

- Yeah, sorry.

- Hey.

- What's this?

It's therapy.

- Why do you have this?

- You know why I got it. It's for you.

Find the beast. Drive it when you're ready,

not a moment sooner.

Come up. I think we got a good one today.

Joshua, what is your strongest memory

of feeling fear?

When I was six years old, I was hit by a car,

and the concussion left me deaf

for three years.

So, I went from being, you know,

a normal kid

to being completely cut off from the world.

When it got really bad, I had a prayer.

My mom taught it to me.

It's, "Gentle Jesus... "

Something...

"Look upon this little child and... "

You know, it was...

It was that sort of thing, you know.

I can't remember it anymore.

Haven't needed it in a while.

Then one day, my hearing came back.

I mean, you know, I... Still, you know,

I hear any volume of sound,

and the ringing comes back, and...

Even talking about it,

you know, it brings back

a feeling of dread.

I mean,

I suppose that is the worst part of it all.

You live with the notion

that the thing that causes you

the most terror

could come back at any time.

Yeah? Hi.

This way.

Hey. Will you sit for me tomorrow?

Same price as usual.

I can't. I have plans.

Just ask one of the other girls.

This is your mother.

Your mother.

So, I have a surprise for you.

- A gift?

- A necessity.

- Awesome.

- It's virtually indestructible.

At least shatter-resistant

and possibly waterproof.

Thank you, Cheryl.

So, I was thinking

that if you ever wanted me to interview

for the fear study, I could.

Yeah? Okay.

I'll talk to the guys,

and we can set something up.

I was kind of hoping you would just do it.

- I'd feel more comfortable.

- Sure.

- I can come by tonight after class.

- Great.

- Is this your family?

- Yeah.

My mom and my two older sisters.

- They're pretty, huh?

- Yeah, they're pretty,

just like their sister.

Should we get started?

You know, I can vividly remember

my first day at kindergarten.

I was wearing a light blue dress,

and I was there no more than 10 minutes

before some boy asked me

what was wrong with my face.

That was the first time I realized

I had something to be ashamed of.

You have nothing to be ashamed of.

Stephen, you're supposed

to be impartial, remember?

Yeah.

Listen, I could have a lot worse

than a birthmark covering my body.

But that's kind of hard to swallow whenever

I have to look in the mirror to fix my hair.

Or when I look at my sisters.

What that boy asked me

when I was five years old

is what people want to ask me

every day of my life.

And every time I have to meet someone

for the first time,

I'll always be that 5-year-old girl again.

I'm so sorry

you have to go through that, Abby.

Can I show you something?

Something that it takes a lot for me to do.

Something that I don't show many people.

Abby.

Abby, I can't.

Why?

My heart is somewhere else right now.

What does that even mean?

Abby.

Just go.

- Abby...

- Please, just go.

Will you just go pick up the camera?

You don't need to talk to her.

- Why didn't you just f*** her?

- Because I don't feel that way about her.

You're afraid Cheryl will find out.

- That has nothing to do with it.

- So, I can show her the tape, huh?

Can you just cut me a break?

Look,

Cheryl carries a lot of baggage,

and I don't wanna see you get hurt,

not to mention I don't like you

pissing in the well, but...

Quaid, it's a school project, okay?

It's not like we're curing cancer.

Is that all this is to you, Stephen,

a school project?

You know what I mean.

- We're friends, right?

- Right.

Right, so, of course I'm going to help you.

I'll get the camera, I'll toss the tape,

- after I've watched it.

- Thank you.

- Anything else?

- Yeah.

- I'm taking the car tomorrow.

- Good for you.

Look, I know you thought it was gonna be

some great cathartic challenge for me,

but it is just a car, Quaid.

Yeah, I know. It's just a car,

when you're trying

to get into a girl's pants.

Shut the f*** up.

- Do you want the tape?

- No.

- You are sexy, you know.

- No, I'm not.

Why?

Sexy is all kinds of things. It's...

It's short dress and high heels.

It's... It's morning breath and messy hair.

It's covered in dirt

from cleaning out the garage all day. It's...

It's a winter coat

that hides everything but this.

Sexy is unique.

So,

you wanna stop feeling sorry for yourself?

Will you paint me?

Will you paint me normal?

Hey.

- You're a f***ing psycho.

- No, you!

Go down on me. Please.

What's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?

What is your strongest memory

of feeling fear?

My life is a labyrinth.

A map of its complexities is etched

on my face in 1,000 tiny expressions.

Waking up at night...

Thank you.

What's your strongest memory?

There is an answer in what we're doing,

a remedy that no f***ing medication

or quack therapy could ever compete with.

Potentially losing my mother.

Sometimes I get discouraged.

- That's bad.

- See, everybody's like that.

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