Ghastly Wonders

Chapter Six : If Only I Could.

It's three in the morning. The kitchen, dimmed and rightfully quiet. I get out of bed, because the sourness I have retreated from my constant night terrors have somehow revived me. My usual, worrisome nightmares flare up once again.

I securely wrap my robe over my silk, finely thinned pajamas. I then step out to the kitchen. Where it's lifeless. And only the unthoughtful pandemonium from the refrigerator motor and the oh so dreadful, poorly constructed dining room clock is the only sound throughout the room.
I poor milk into a ceramic mug and place it, preciously in the aslant - looking, almost retired microwave.

The warmth consoles me from the purifying milk as I glance over to check the time.
Bridget approaches me. She clearly looks quite exhausted and distressed. "What are you doing?" She flicks on the kitchen light as she tilts her head, slightly with some form of security and sympathy.
"Don't you know what time it is?" She questions as she gathers a chair and locates herself beside me.
"Yeah." I husk as I graciously drift away into space.
"Well. Why are you up?" She groans as she snatches my hand and holds it, loosely. "Because.. the nightmares, they've come back!"

Bridget appears to look confused. "What nightmares? Well, what do you mean?"
I glare down and then peer back up at her pale, acned complexion. "Well.. a while back I was with my boyfriend. Become he became my boyfriend he raped me. He claimed if told anybody, especially the authorities he would kill me and dump the body somewhere. I purely thought he was joking. Now.." a tear flows down my cheek. "You know about that, I've told you. Well, if I can recall I have not told you about my nightmares. They are mostly more like night terrors. Very rarely I awake in deep puddle of sweat from anger and distress. One of those rare occasions was this morning. You see. I have the same reoccurring dream haunt me. Him attacking me. Him stabbing me. It's not real, it never happened. Although somehow it feels so close to life. So close to reality."
I rub my eyes with my trembling fingers. And then gulp the last of the warming milk. "If only I could I would forget about him. He was a dangerous, vindictive and cruel man. And the worse thing was he told me he actually would go to parties, spike girls drinks and rape them in the bathroom without any condominiums. They were lifeless. They had no clue. They would awake with their skirts or pants covering their knees. He was..." I bring myself to say it. "He.. was... a.. molester!"
Bridget rubs my back and makes some sympathetic remark. I push her delicate, thoughtful intentions away as I cry with minor misery.

These night terrors are frightening. I feel so isolated and hurt. Nobody knows what I went through. The pain, the agony and the constant bickering I survived throughout my relationship with him. Him, the man I thought, at the time was my boyfriend. He cheated on me. He did it with no shame. I'm glad I am away from him as his cruel and inhuman acts. That unfortunately triggered my anxiety.