PitBabeS2, Chapter 2 pg4

 pg4

   This was the worst nightmare I could imagine. The people who shaped my life, those I could no longer touch or talk to, were suddenly standing beside me again. Acting normal, speaking as if they still had flesh and blood, as if the events of two years ago had never happened.

   “I want to wake up,” I buried my face in Charlie’s shoulder, muttering like a prayer, even though I don’t believe in any religion or creed in this world.

   “Hm?”

   “I want to wake up,” I repeated. “Wake me up.”

   “Can’t do that.”

   “How can you not? Just wake me up.”

   “This dream… Babe, you have to wake up on your own.”

   Charlie’s voice was so warm, even though it was a rejection that should’ve annoyed me. I still felt comforted hearing him so close. He was different, at least better than the two standing nearby.

   “Leaving already, my boy?” Tony said.

   “Wait up,” Way added, as if he too wanted to say goodbye. His voice wasn’t as grating as that old dog’s, but hearing it over and over made me want to cry. “Come back, okay?”

   I didn’t want to come back, but I was certain I would.

   My heavy body gradually lightened. The parts of me that felt half-paralyzed slowly came back under my control. Not fully, but I could feel my body again. I tried to open my eyes, but that was still too hard, so I focused on moving other parts first. I shifted slowly, turning my body, then swung my hand to the side, searching for someone who should’ve been lying next to me. But no matter where I reached, I found nothing. That was what made my heart pound so hard it scared me.

   Charlie… where are you?

   The moment that thought flashed through my mind, my heart raced so fast I could barely keep up. My brain spiraled, imagining the worst possible scenarios—at least ten of them. Sweat broke out despite barely moving, even though the room was filled with cold air from the AC. From being groggy and unable to open my eyes, my body suddenly snapped to full alertness. My eyes shot open, my mouth about to shout, but before I could make a sound, someone’s hand clamped over it.

   “Right here, right here.”

   Charlie whispered softly, his expression showing no surprise at all when I nearly screamed before even fully waking up. Of course. He’s dealt with this behavior of mine hundreds of times. Charlie’s adapted to it, while I’m the one who still can’t manage it.

   “Told you you’d freak out. Was just about to wake you,” Charlie slowly removed his hand from my mouth. He gave a small smile, planted a gentle kiss on my forehead, and said, “Good morning, Babe.”

   I let out a huge sigh.

   He’s still here… Charlie hasn’t gone anywhere.

   “Nightmare,” my voice came out hoarse, but I forced myself to speak.

   “Yeah, I know.”

   “Were you sitting there watching me sleep again?”

   “Nah. I came in to wake you and saw you thrashing around on the bed. Who wouldn’t know you were dreaming?” His mouth teased, but his hands were busy fixing my messy hair, gently massaging my shoulders and neck because he knew those were the spots I tensed up most after a nightmare. Small things about myself I never paid attention to—Charlie remembered them all. Sometimes, he seemed to know me better than I knew myself. But other times, he was so honest it was annoying. Even now, I can’t quite figure out if this kid is dumb or smart. “Same dream again?”

   “Sort of… similar.”

   “Next time you see the doctor, tell them about it.”

   “I’m sick of it. I tell them every time.”

   “Tell them anyway,” Charlie’s tone got serious whenever it came to the doctor—my psychiatrist, that is. Because of what happened two years ago, plus the baggage I’ve carried since childhood, my mind’s not exactly in great shape. Charlie begged me to see a psychiatrist, and it’s actually helped a lot. I feel more stable, but that doesn’t mean I’ve completely moved past everything. At the very least, these damn nightmares are still stuck in my subconscious, refusing to go away easily. “I can’t help with this. You’ve got to try, Babe.”

   “Ugh… I know.” When he says it like that, how can I argue? In the end, I always give in. “I’ll tell them.”

   “Good.”

   “Nice job.”

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