No One But Me

Chapter 7 - Dreamscapes

Joel had been the one coaxing Oscar into downing one drink after the other until he was just about falling off the bar stool. Oscar vaguely remembered staggering home sometime last night, Joel firmly gripping his bicep to ensure he wouldn't stumble. He wasn't sure exactly how he got inside the house and into his room.

But atleast Joel was right about one thing - being drunk had made Oscar's brain stop racing and replaying memories of the past over and over, even just for a few hours. The dreams of last night were not ones of screams or bloodshed but a blur of random scenarios all blending into one another. It almost made the hangover worth it. Almost.

He dared to open his bleary eyes again. His gaze wandered over to the small window opposite his bed and he watched the rain pouring down outside.

No library duty today, Oscar randomly thought.

He was grateful that he didn't have to work while nursing a hangover, partly because he didn't want you to see him this way. Oscar didn't want you to think he was a drunkard, a weak man who couldn't hold his liquor. He certainly wasn't an alcoholic - he didn't drink every day like some of the other men did. And he hadn't planned to get hammered last night, either. Oscar screwed his eyes shut and groaned again.

This fucking headache.

Oscar drew the blanket over his body and burrowed underneath it's warmth, where he eventually fell back to sleep.

******

Your body instinctively roused from sleep at your usual wake up time, unaided by the tinny clang of the alarm clock you forgot to set the night before. Your internal body clock had adjusted to this time after years of an established daily work routine in Jackson, and even after a fitful nights sleep, you were able to wake up around the same time every morning, sometimes only a minute before the alarm clock rang. You weren't necessarily an orderly person who relied on strict routine, but like many others in the town you found regularity helped instill some kind of purpose and stability in your life. It didn't matter if you weren't working every day of the week. Adhering to even a lose kind of structure and keeping yourself busy was key - this was something Maria and some of the older residents had taught you as you grew up in Jackson.

You yawned and scrubbed the sleep from your eyes. It took a few lazy seconds for your mind to properly wake up but when it did, the first coherent thought it conjured was Joel.

Joel.

Your eyes flew open and you bolted upright in your bed.

"Joel?" You spoke, voice rough from sleep.

Was he still here in your room?

Your head swung around in search of him dumbly, as if his hulking frame could be hiding somewhere in your small bedroom. But it was clear from the stillness and deflated energy of the room that he wasn't. There was no sign of him.

He was gone.

You couldn't help the pitiful way your heart sank inside your chest. Despite knowing just why Joel was absent from your bed this morning, you felt wretchedly alone. You felt used. Like you had been abandoned.

You swallowed thickly at the familiar pang of emptiness stabbing into your stomach.

Joel had to go. It was his duty, part of his role in Jackson to protect the town. You knew this. He would return once the mission was over, safe and sound.

Your hands smoothed over the empty expanse of the bedsheets where he had been, as if searching for evidence, some kind of memento proving his earlier presence. Instead you found nothing physical amidst the tangle of the sheets, only the lingering scent of his body, his musk.