10. Madelyn #3
My eyes sting with unshed tears, but I force them back. I refuse to waste another tear on the man that turned my life into a living nightmare and still manages to haunt me, even in death.
It feels like almost every night brings the same nightmare, or some twisted variation.
I'm exhausted, desperate for a few hours of dreamless sleep, but every time I drift into unconsciousness, the darkness finds me again.
The sky turns black, and I'm back in those woods, running for my life, while blood drips from my skin.
It feels like each nightmare lasts longer than the last, growing more vivid and terrifying, leaving me more exhausted than the night before.
I pull away from Miles, desperate for enough space to breathe. My chest feels like it’s caving in on itself, each breath catching before it finally fills my lungs.
His expression tightens with worry as I slip from his embrace, but I have to move. If I don’t get air into my lungs soon, I’m going to lose it. As much as I want him to, Miles can’t save me from this. No one can. This is something I have to fight through on my own.
I pace at the foot of the bed, crossing my arms above my head and taking long, deep breaths. Miles doesn’t say a word, just watches me as his eyes fill with something I can’t seem to place.
He’s probably wondering what the hell is wrong with me. Maybe he thinks I’m crazy, since this is the second time in the last few hours I have woken up screaming. Or maybe he’s thinking last night was a mistake, wondering how he’s going to get rid of me.
“Do you want to talk about the dreams?” he asks quietly, pulling me away from my negative thoughts.
I shake my head in response and he drags his hands through his hair, making my stomach knot.
Maybe he’s frustrated because I won’t let him in. Maybe I’ve already pushed him too far. I can’t tell if he’s upset with me, and the thought sends another wave of anxiety crashing over me, so I force my attention back on Miles and my breathing instead.
Eventually, the crushing weight on my chest eases and I drop my arms, crossing them over my chest and look back over to him. Without a word he lifts the blanket, inviting me back into his bed as if nothing had happened.
Confused, I crawl back under the warmth of the blanket, facing away from him. He pulls me into his chest, pressing a soft kiss to my head and glides his fingers up and down my arm, comforting me in silence. The tension slowly melts from my body as I breathe a sigh of relief.
Maybe—maybe he’s not upset with me after all.
“I’m here whenever you’re ready,” he whispers, as if he can hear the thoughts racing through my head.
He doesn’t have to explain what he means. I’m grateful that he cares enough to listen, but he won’t understand. No one will. Some secrets are just too ugly to share, and this one dies with me.
A sharp ding cuts through the silence from across the room and I realize I must have left my phone on the couch earlier, before we stumbled to the bed.
What time is it, anyway?
The room is still cloaked in darkness, so it can’t be too late in the morning. Regardless, it’s Monday and I have class soon, so I should probably get going before I miss it altogether.
My phone dings again, Miles and I both exchanging confused glances before looking back toward the couch.
Who would be texting me this early?
Miles gets out of bed and I notice that he’s wearing nothing but black boxer briefs that hug him in all the right places.
I don’t know when we fell asleep or when he got undressed, but seeing him practically naked again after knowing what all he can do with his mouth has my entire body feeling like molten lava.
He picks up my phone, but instead of bringing it to me, he freezes.
His eyes are locked on the screen, the color completely draining from his face.
His expression is enough to send my pulse skyrocketing.
I throw the covers off and hurry across the room, barely registering my feet against the hardwood floor, before I'm standing before him.
“What?” I ask, my voice already shaking.” What is it?”
Without waiting for an answer, I snatch my phone out of his hands, my face falls as all the oxygen in my body escapes from my lungs.
Unknown: How could you let him touch you and put his mouth all over your body like a fucking whore?
Unknown: You’re nothing but a fucking slut, just like your mother.
My phone slips from my trembling hands, clattering against the floor. I can’t breathe. My fingers tangle in my hair as I crumple to the floor, hot tears blurring my eyes. The same eyes that watched the blood drain from my father's lifeless body without a shred of remorse.
This can’t be my father. He’s dead. He’s supposed to be dead.
Strong arms wrap around me, lifting me from the cold floor before I ever realize what’s happening. Miles places me on the bed as my anxiety crashes over me in relentless waves like an unforgiving ocean.
He’s saying something. I can see his lips moving, feel his hands trying to steady me, but his voice grows more distant with every passing second. The room blurs as the darkness closes in around my vision.
And then it swallows me whole.