12. Nightmare
1197 Words
Jamie He kissed her neck, running his fingers through her hair… She laughed and pushed him away, taking a drink from her cup. She looked behind him, at me, as he reached for her hair again.
Her eyes widened. Bright green. And then she fell. The fall took so long, I tried to run forwards to catch her but my feet were melded to the floor.
He looked at me, eyes blood-red and hungry. His hand stretched out, grabbing her wrist and hauling her limp body from the floor. He kissed her, lips moving over her motionless mouth, eyes fixed on me, gleaming. Just try to stop me, they said.
“No!” I yelled, lunging forward. Moving fast across the room, but they were just out of arm's reach. He leaned down and bit her throat, blood spurting out. Her eyes opened and she wailed, a terrible chilling scream that cut deeply into my soul.
I jumped at him again, this time making contact and pushing him into the wall. CRACK. I froze. Staring. His neck broken, blood dripping from his mouth, eyes watching me with desperate hunger. Not a hint of pain in those eyes.
“You can’t kill me, brother, you can never kill your demons. I’ll always be there.” His voice was strangely slurred, but so loud and everywhere. His voice was everywhere.
I backed up, my eyes falling on her body. Bree? Was it Bree? Those eyes… They had been Bree’s eyes. But now it was her, the girl who’d almost been drugged by Titus. She opened her eyes, and all at once it was Bree.
“You didn’t protect me. You failed! You failed, you didn’t save me, so much pain all because of you.” Her voice grew louder and louder, thundering in my skull, until I closed my eyes and grabbed my head just trying to get the words out, to stop the echoes from punching holes through my brain and bones.
“Stop!” I yelled, but I could hardly hear my voice. They laughed, louder and louder, invading every bit of my brain and vibrating through my body…
It all stopped. My eyes snapped open, a sudden silence inside. No laughter. No voices. A dream, just a dream…
I looked over at Bree, holding my breath. Besides the bite marks on her neck, which were always there now, she was okay. She was awake. She wasn’t dead, or hurt, or mad at me. It’s okay, she’s okay, it’s okay.
I sat up, finding that my head felt heavy and it hurt. Like a rigid balloon was trying to expand inside my skull. I held in a groan of pain and leaned against the wall. I couldn’t get those images out of my mind… Those words.
I sighed, imagining that all the details of the nightmare were leaving with my breath. It didn’t work.
“You look pretty awful… You okay?” Bree asked. My shoulders loosened a little at her voice, the words convincing me that everything really was okay. She wasn’t dead, she didn’t hate me, things were okay.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Bad dream.” I said, noticing only now how my breath was coming fast and I was doused in sweat.
“What was it about?” She asked. I didn’t want to answer… But her bright green eyes, so wide and innocent, unaware that I might not want to talk about it.
“It’s, well, I dunno… Kind of…” I muttered, stumbling over my words.
“You don’t have to tell me.” She said, but I could tell by the way she was leaning forward and watching me closely that she was much more curious than she was letting on.
“It was… Well, about something that happened… In the past.” I said, feeling lame.
“Well, I’d sure hope it didn’t happen in the future! Especially if it gives you nightmares.” Bree grinned.
I couldn’t help but smile a bit at that, and my stomach got that twisty, fluttery feeling again. I could tell she wanted me to elaborate, but I didn’t know if I could… Or should.
Bree looked at me for a long moment, before saying calmly in a more serious voice than before, “I’ll tell you about mine if it makes you feel better.”
“You don’t need to…” But I did want to know. What were her nightmares? Maybe I could use that information to help her be happier.
“No, it’s fine. Talking about them helps me get over it.” She paused for a moment before continuing, “I dream about the people I’ve killed. All the things they might say to me, the last images burned into my mind of the blood bubbling from their throats and mouths. And my dog. Princie. He died because of me.” Her voice picked up a blunt flatness as she spoke, so different from the funny, optimistic girl I was used to… It was so easy to forget she was here for a similar reason to me. She’d killed people, seen and done such mentally scarring things. Maybe even hated herself too.
“I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say. What can you say to that?
“Don’t be. I… I saved Mom, and Dad, and Alex. That’s… That’s what matters, right?” Her voice cracked, and I saw tears leaking from her eyes. Not right, not really, not to her. I held out my hand, and she took it without hesitation. I squeezed it, and then began to speak…
“I dreamed about my brother… And a girl… That they died, and it was my fault. Except they didn’t really die. Just…” I fell silent, I couldn’t go on. What’d I been thinking, telling anyone about my dream? I felt a surge of frustration, angry frustration. I almost pulled my hand away from Bree, but it wasn’t her fault. I was the one who messed up. “I’m sorry. I just can’t talk about it.”
“Are you scared?” Bree whispered. I avoided her gaze as I considered how to answer that. Was I scared? I was. But what if she asked why? I clenched my fists, why did everything have to be so hard? Why couldn’t I be honest? And why did she have to ask so many questions? I thought quickly, for anything I could say…
“Yes.” I said, the words barely audible even to me. But she heard it.
- Writer
