Band-Aids On Bruises

Dreams

My mum shuffled over to me and placed her hand on my should, giving me another sad smile.

"I just got off the phone with the police. The trial's on Friday." she tells me quietly.

My face goes white, and I can't seem to speak. Any words I try to make come out as soft squeaks and whimpers. Friday. That's only four days from now. I'm not ready.

My mother pets my hair as I have an internal freak out.

"Do you need to be alone right now?" she asks softly, and I nod. She nods back and quietly exits my room, giving me one last sympathetic look before closing the door.

I curl into a small ball under the blankets. I don't want to be alone, but at the same time I do. Thoughts race around my head, appearing then disappearing rapidly as I try to find the answers for all of them.

One stays prominent though : Should I tell Fisher?

I can't find an answer. I want him to be there, I might need him to, but I'm worried. I'm worried that he will do something or say something that will cause him to get into trouble. The fact that it's also getting harder for me to not think of Tyler around him terrifies me, and I can't make an accurate guess on what would happen if they are in the same room together. Would he even come? He said he would, but...am I worth it?

I shake my head. I need to rest. I can't decide when I'm tired. I uncurl my body and try to relax myself as much as possible, begging sleep to find me.

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[The Next Day]

I wake the next morning, gasping for air and cold sweat trickling down my forehead. Once again, from the moment I fell asleep, to the moment I woke, I had had nightmares.

They were memories of the party, like usual, but they were distorted. Made worse by my stressed mind.

I tried not to think about them too much, as I got ready for school, but they crept back into my mind as I tried to do other things. They made their way into my thoughts as I was brushing my teeth, getting dressed, eating breakfast and packing my bag.

I couldn't help it though, these ones were just felt so real. I could smell the scent of alcohol and smoke when I woke, and I heard the ringing of people talking and loud music in my ears as well. The worst part was that it was one memory, played over and over in different distorted ways to torture me.

It was the moment when I saw that girl kiss Fisher.

At first it was just like the memory, then it got worse, it became Fisher was the one who started the kiss, then Fisher looking at me with hatred and triumph in his eyes, then Fisher being by my side and leaving me for the girl, and finally, Fisher shoving me away and causing me to fall into the arms of Tyler, who clamped his hand over my mouth while pulling me away as Fisher made out with the girl, watching me, making no attempt to stop anything.

I was pulled out of my thoughts when I heard someone coming down the stairs. I turned away from the half eaten toast I had just been staring at, to see my father there.

"What are you doing up this earlier?" he asked me while making himself some coffee.

"What are you talking about? I was just about to ask you why you're up this late." I respond.

"Dustin, it's five forty." he pulls out a mug.

"Oh."

"You alright?"

My response was to meekly shrug my shoulders.

"You can talk to me about it." he says while he pours some coffee.