Hostel | Auckland, NZ

My scream jolts me awake, and seven pairs of eyes stare at me from the darkness. 

“I’m so sorry,” I mumble, my body shaking like a leaf as I try to get my bearings. 

Audible sighs echo from around the room. 

“It’s ok.” The woman in the bunk below mine pops her head out to look up at me. “My husband served in Iraq. He does that all the time. Are you ok?”

If I’m honest, no, I’m not. I can barely breathe, and my heart is hammering so hard it feels like it’s about to smash out of my chest. The last thing I remember is being crushed between two concrete slabs. And she was there. She’s always there. Staring at me, watching me die.

“Yes I’m fine,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry, everyone. Please go back to sleep.”

Beds shift, covers are pulled over ears, and I’m positive I will have at least six fewer roommates tomorrow.

* * *

The first time I discovered my mind castle was when I was trying to figure out why I kept having night terrors. I thought maybe if I could understand what was going on in my subconscious mind I could get to the bottom of what was triggering such horrific dreams, with the added bonus of being able to sleep in the same room as someone without traumatizing them. I decided that the first step would be to create a safe place for my subconscious to stay while I dreamed. 

Every night, I’d close my eyes, take five deep breaths and picture myself in an elevator lowering into my psyche—one flight for every exhale.

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During the descent I would picture my surroundings in detail. I’d start by seeing my hands in front of my face, then the gold grated doors of the elevator rattling as it dropped further into my subconscious, and finally the blood red carpet under my bare feet. 

*ping*

The door would slide open and I’d walk into—

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