Tough Love

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

My body is startled awake and a scream is begging to rip out of my mouth, but I manage to control the urge, thinking that Eli would come running in here. I didn't want to disturb him, so I try my hardest to calm myself down. I grapple with my senses and tell myself it was just a dream. I whisper, “But it wasn't just a dream, was it? These things really happened...” I freeze when I notice Eli sleeping on the chair in the corner of my room. My breath even hitches in the back of my throat. I don't move or make a sound. I just stare at him, watching for even the slightest movement. He looks so peaceful as he sleeps and my mind drifts. I wonder if my features have even a fraction of the peacefulness that he displays. Probably not. I probably look tortured and tormented.

I don't know how long I watch Eli, but eventually he stirs and stretches. When he notices I'm awake he smiles and whispers, “Morning.”

I mumble, “Morning.”

“What time is it?”

I glance at the clock, “4:30.”

Before I can stop myself, I ask, “Why are you in here?”

I gasp and cover my mouth, willing the words to go back into my mouth.

“You had a really bad nightmare and I didn't want to leave you in case you woke up again. I'm sorry if I scared you. You were pretty freaked out.”

I nod, my thoughts wandering to the nightmare. I didn't forget I'd had it; I just chose not to think about it whenever possible.

Eli watches me for a little while and then he whispers, “Dani? Do you remember what you said to me?”

My eyes widen and I find myself panicking. What could I have said? Did I reveal some disgusting truth? What could be much more disgusting than admitting you were a drug addicted prostitute? I realize Eli is waiting for an answer, so I shake my head slightly.

He hesitates and then says, “You asked me if I could smell the burning flesh. What was that about?”

I wrap the duvet tighter around me and stare at the foot of the bed. I muster up the courage to say, “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned it. Sorry sir.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart. I want you to talk to me. I want to help you. I don't know how else to prove to you that I want to help you. I hate seeing you so upset and so scared and I just want to fix it. Let me help you. What can I do to show you how much I care?”

I can't say anything. The thoughts from the night before come rushing back and I feel so confused. I don't know whether or not to believe him. I don't know if he's going to hurt me or if he's being genuine.

I feel a breeze on my cheek, which is strange because I don't open any windows. As the breeze hits me, I hear a whisper, “You're not listening to me, svetlyak. You need to listen. Just trust him. I can't keep telling you the same thing. I want you to be happy. He will make you happy.”

I gasp and whisper, “Poppa?”

Eli frowns and asks, “Dani?”

I look around frantically, trying to find some evidence that my poppa was here. I can't see or hear him; nothing to suggest he was really here. Maybe I am actually going crazy. Maybe all the years of drugs and malnutrition have caught up with me and I am losing my mind.

That thought worries me and I whisper, “Eli, I think I'm going crazy... I'm losing my mind...”

“What do you mean? You're not losing your mind.”