Ayla

Nightmares Make Me Grumpy

Ayla (Present Day)

I woke up in a cold sweat, the sheets were soaked and my hair was wet…as if I had just taken a bath. I let out a loud labored breaths and tried to calm myself.

It’s been eight years, Ay. I whispered to myself.

After minutes of talking to myself, I got up from the bed and went to brush my teeth. Took my shower, got dressed and headed downstairs.

“Morning Cheryl.” I greeted my sister, whose blonde hair was sticking out of her bonnet.

“Hey, Ay.” She smiled at me with soft eyes while using her hands to flip the pancakes she was making. Cheryl was always better at cooking than I was.

I loved her, she was soft and pure, I admired her kind words, her soft smile and her forgiving heart. But that was gonna get her killed…like our parents. I shook my head to get my mind off the thought that just crossed my mind. I already had a nightmare, I wasn’t going to worsen my day with my own hands.

“I heard you screaming in your sleep.” Cheryl said as she dished out the pancakes into the plates.

I froze. I didn’t realize that I screamed in my sleep.

“It was nothing.” I said. An obvious lie. I didn’t want her getting worried about anything. She didn’t need that right now. I wanted her to be happy.

Sighing deeply, I picked my plate and sat at the table to eat.

“I know you had a nightmare, Ay. It’s okay you don’t have to lie to me.” She looked at me intently.

“It’s fine. I’m gonna be late. You’re fine getting to school yourself, right?” I replied, putting the plates in the sink.

“Yeah, I’m going with Tamia.”

With that I gave her a quick peck on the cheek, took my bag and left the house. College wasn’t far from the house, I could take a taxi but I chose to walk. I had to clear my thoughts.

There was no way I was going to talk to Cheryl about my nightmares. I didn’t want her to worry about me and treat me like a baby, which is funny because I’m the older sister. She’d already helped me out a lot, plus this was her final year in high school.

The morning breeze brushed against my face as I strolled down the street toward campus. The sky was clear, and the sun wasn’t too harsh yet – just warm enough to make me glad I didn’t bring a jacket. I passed the usual sights; students rushing, someone eating a sandwich while walking, a group laughing too loudly for that early hour. It all felt familiar, almost comforting.

By the time I reached the lecture hall, most of the seats were already taken. I slipped into one near the middle, unpacked my notebook, and tried to focus as the lecturer started talking. His voice droned on about theories and definitions, but my mind kept drifting to the window beside me.

The trees outside swayed slightly, and for a while, I just watched the sunlight dance on the leaves until the scrape of a chair snapped me back.

The next class was a bit livelier. The professor liked asking random questions, and somehow I got picked twice. I answered the first one fine, stumbled through the second, and earned a small chuckle from someone behind. I didn’t mind – it actually woke me up.

By afternoon, the day had slowed. In my last class, the room felt heavier, the air a little too warm. I doodled in the margin of my notebook, pretending to take notes. A few rows ahead, someone had dozed off completely. I fought back a yawn, counting down the minutes until the clock finally freed us.

“And do not forget your projects.” Professor Lane, my history lecturer said.

The clock chimed to signal the end of the lecture, I packed up, slung my bag over my shoulder and walked out of the hall. The only thing I was looking forward to was meeting Kylie, my best friend. She had curly brown hair, brown eyes and glasses to frame them. And the one thing she always had, was a solution to my problems.

I proceeded to hunt for Kylie through the school hallway. It was packed with students, jockeys, cheerleaders and freshmen, making noise about the latest game our soccer team won.

Ughh. I don’t want to be here. It’s so noisy, I feel sick. I said to myself.

I spotted Kylie’s bun and rushed up to her.

“Hey boo.” She said with a grin.

“Oh my God! Professor Lane is after my life…he gave us this huge history project. Ugh, it’s terrible Kylie, we have to do research and interview the locals.” I groaned at my best friend.”

“Good thing I’m not doing history.”

“Yeah yeah, rub it in my face o great mathematician.” Giving her a few eye rolls here and there, I linked my arm with hers as we walked down the hall.

The hallway spilled out into an open courtyard – the unofficial headquarters for students who’d rather do anything but attend lectures. Some claimed they came here to “clear their heads” but everyone knew it was just code for “I’m skipping class again”.

Kylie and I sat on the grass and soaked in the afternoon sun. After a few minutes of silence, I finally told her:

“I had a nightmare.” I let out a huge sigh of relief, I hadn’t told anyone about it yet and it felt good to finally talk about it.

“About your parents?” she asked.

“No Kylie, about the history project.” I replied sarcastically.

“Haha, very funny.” She frowned with an eye roll.

“Yes about my parents. I still don’t know why it happened and who did it.” I bit my lip “Plus I haven’t had a nightmare in years… it caught me off guard.”

“I get it.” She placed a caring hand on my shoulder.

“Honestly, no you don’t.”

The courtyard was quieter now, the last bits of laughter and chatter fading with the setting sun. I sat there, staring at the grass between my shoes, feeling that heavy silence settle in. My best friend didn’t say anything at first. She just sat beside me, close enough for our shoulders to touch.

“You know,” she started softly, “you don’t always have to keep it together.”

That was all it took. My throat tightened, and before I knew it, tears were slipping down my cheeks. She sighed, not the annoyed kind – the soft, knowing kind – and pulled me into her arms. Her hoodie smelled faintly of coconut oil and the cheap body spray we always joked about.

“It’s okay,” she murmured into my hair. “You’re okay. Whatever happens next, we’ll figure it out, alright? You’ve still got me.”

I nodded against her shoulder, the world suddenly felt a little less sharp, a little less cruel. She rubbed my back like she was brushing the sadness away, and after a while, when the tears slowed down, she grinned.

“Come on,” she said, standing up and stretching dramatically. “Before I start crying too and embarrass us both in public.”

I actually laughed – small and shaky, but real.

We picked up our bags and started walking toward the gate. The sky was streaked with orange and purple, the kind of evening that makes everything look softer. She kept talking – nonsense mostly – just to fill the space, and I listened, grateful for every word.

By the time we reached the road, I felt lighter. Not fine, not yet – but lighter. And as we headed home side by side, I realized that maybe that was enough for now.