Truth be Told

The leaves crunched under his feet as he walked through the woods. It was too quiet for a fall evening, and the chill felt unnatural. The twigs and leaves felt strange underfoot as branches brushed his skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Something was wrong. He was looking for something but didn’t know what. A darkness falls behind him, pushing him through the pathless brush, through brambles tearing at him. A scream sounded, and he began to run. In the distance, he could see a clearing… a figure hangs in the middle. Aspen! She hung by her wrists by invisible bonds, her long blond hair streaked with mud and blood with leaves and twigs stuck in it. Her thin frame was covered in gashes and bruises, and blood ran down her limp, nearly nude body to form a pool beneath her toes as she stared at him. One bare foot hung at an odd angle. Her unfocused gaze found him, and a tear ran down her cheek. “Connel. I’m sorry.” Her face fell. He tried to run to her but couldn’t reach her. Her body began to jerk, and screams ripped from her as her head shot up and fell back. Her screams, never ending, were loud and piercing, chilling him to his core. “Aspen!!” Connel sat with a start. Sweat poured down him as he fought to untangle the sheets around him. He twisted to hang his feet off the side of the bed thinking about the dream, the nightmare he had just woken from. The nightmare he’d had some version of every night for over a year. He couldn’t close his eyes without seeing her. Every spare moment, he heard her screams echoing in his head until he felt he was going insane. He hadn’t seen his ex in six years, but now he saw her every time his eyes closed. Crazy, wild, beautiful Aspen. Her long blonde hair flowed around her as she ran through the trees. Those shining-with-life ice blue and deep purple eyes, both distorted in his dream. He had the urge to call her, check on her, and find her. He refused. He thought about how she’d broken his heart and slammed his hand on his bedside table. This was supposed to be their home. He had bought it to surprise her, only to be contacted by a mutual friend and told she was cheating on him. He spent every spare moment renovating the old victorian in an effort to keep his mind busy now. Connel stumbled to the window, thankful for the moonless, stormy night, as he subconsciously fiddled with the ring on his right middle finger. The ring was his lifeline, and a part of her he couldn’t let go of for his own safety. He stumbled down the stairs as lightning flashed and thunder roared outside. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and then went to sit in the living room. He opened his laptop to check for work emails, but there were none. Connel paced up and down the room thinking about the nightmare, still. He brought his beer to his lips just as he heard a knock at the door, and the thunder cracked overhead overhead.