(18+) RED (Complete)

Ch. 41: Like embers after fire

I heard her whimper in her sleep, and in the faint light from her lantern I could see her eyelids flicker a bit. She was dreaming. But right when I started to imagine what she was dreaming about, her body twitched and she whimpered again. A nightmare. No doubt. And knowing what she'd just been through yesterday night, I now felt pretty sure what the reason was. Maybe it was some kind of delayed panic attack, triggered by her dream?

"Mia?" I whispered and shook her ever so lightly. I knew you shouldn't wake up a person who was neither sleepwalking or having a nightmare, but I couldn't stand to see her in pain, obviously going through whatever happened with that piece of shit who had drugged her.

"Mia? Wake up."

But she kept whimpering and even crying, and turned her head from side to side.

"Noooo..." she groaned. "Please stop. Please..."

"Mia! Open your eyes. You're safe, babe. Wake..."

"NOOO!" she screamed and abruptly sat up. She was boiling warm and when I stroked her back, I noticed her shirt was damp.

"You're safe, Mia. No one is going to hurt you."

Her eyes flew wide open and she turned to look at me like she'd seen a ghost. I thought maybe she was embarrassed. But...

"Get away from me!"

"What?"

She crawled away and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at me with eyes full of something in between pain and sadness.

"Mia, I..."

"No! Stay away!" she yelled. Then she looked around and recognized her surroundings, and as soon as she knew where she was, she jumped up and stormed out.

I called her name, but she didn't answer, so naturally I searched for her in her tent. But she wasn't there.

"Mia?"

I spotted her sitting on her knees in front of what had been the bonfire. She sat hunched over with her head lowered into her hands, and her body spoke in clear volumes; she was crying.

"Babe. It's okay. Do you want to talk about it?"

She shook her head and wiped her cheeks, but new tears came rolling down, accompanied by sobs that tore at my heart.

"Was it him? That guy? Do you remember what he did to you? Was it..."

"No!" she exclaimed hoarsely. "You!"

"Yes? What about me? I'm here f..."

"You don't understand! It was you, Michael! Every time... I see you with her, my so-called friend. I see you smile, but it's not a smile. And I see you spank her, and feel the sting on my cheek as if you'd slapped me in the face. Every time it's the same dream! Over and over..."

She was digging her fingers into her hair and cried, and I wanted so desperately to hold her. But I couldn't. It was all my fault. So when she got up and left me standing like the idiot I was, all I could do was to watch her disappear into her tent and listen to the depthless sorrow in her voice as she cried.

I sunk down on the ground on the spot she'd been sitting, and threw dry grass and tiny sticks on the few pieces of embers that tried their best to stay alive. I felt empty. I could wringe my brain and come up with the best of ways to win her heart back, but it would never help. This was beyond what I could fix, and I wasn't used to that. Every impossible task was a challenge waiting to be conquered. The hairy goal I set for Thriller was reached and then some, and I was still climbing career wise. Only my love life was a sad chapter.