Yours Truly

Losing You

I wake up, slightly confused. Groggily, my first instinct is to glance at the clock: 2:46 am. Subtly, I hear small sobs. Peering through the darkness, I see Audrey's small form.

"Audrey?" I grab my glasses off the nightstand and Audrey's figure comes into focus. She sits with her legs folded under her nightgown and her head buried in her knees. Her shoulders rise and fall shakily with each quiet sob. Her arms are wrapped tightly around her, and she rocks herself.

Immediately, I understand what's happened. Another nightmare. I sit up slowly and gently put my hand on her shoulder. She startles and instinctively pulls away. But she soon relaxes, registering that it's me and that I'm now awake. Even so, she still doesn't uncurl herself from her ball. This worries me slightly. Normally when she has a nightmare, she snuggles up right next to me and we talk through it together. But now she still sits in her little ball and cries. Something's definitely not okay.

And I immediately start to internally panic.

But I can't panic, she needs me. I scoot over to her and tenderly put my arm around her shoulders. Realizing she's shaking, I move closer and lower my head next to her shoulder.

"Audrey? Honey, what's wrong?" I asked, gently rubbing her shoulder, trying to bring her back into the present; where she's safe.

She whimpers and leans into me, pulling my arm down from her shoulder and across her chest. She holds my hand in a death grip.

"It's okay Audrey. You're safe," I stroke her hair softly.

"It's not me, it's you," she mutters into my collar. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you,"

This startles me. I've never really contemplated that. After all, she was the one who nearly met her end in the jaws of a giant plant, not me. But things are better now. The plant is gone. It can't hurt anyone. I take a deep breath and continue.

"You don't have to worry about me, Audrey. Or yourself anymore. Things are okay now," She looks up at me, her eyes sparkling with tears. As another falls down her cheek I wipe it away.

"Okay?" I ask, brushing her hair out of her face. She nods as if my words alone make all she's been through better.

Slowly, she lifts herself over my knee. She sits, still sniffling, between my legs. She rests her back against my chest and tucks her head in the crook of my neck. I wrap my arms around her torso protectively. Holding her, I sway back and forth softly, whispering words of comfort and occasionally kissing the top of her head. We sit like this — battling the darkness — until I hear the songs of the morning birds and the first relieving rays of light fall through the crack in the curtains.