• Troublesome • Rhett x Reader •

• Chapter Twenty One•

"Do you wanna go lay down?" He starts standing up, urging me up as well. "C'mon, let's get you to bed. You're probably tired."

"I am so fucking exhausted." I mumble, almost like my body was answering for itself, not consulting my brain first. "You can leave now. I don't want to impose."
I don't want to see you upstairs, let alone in my bedroom after the intense dream I had.

"I'll come right back out here, I just wanna make sure you get in there safely."

".... Fine." I grumble, allowing him to take my hand and I lead us to the stairs, where he stays behind and takes a ready-to-catch stance.

Nearing the top of the stairs, I have an actual wave of nausea shoot through me and I nearly puke on the floor before I could react. Instead, I held it, picked up the pace and made a dash for the frilly trash bin just in my bedroom doorway. Rhett's footsteps catch up with my disgusting, sweaty pathetic body hallway in the hall and halfway in the bedroom.

"Come on, come on, your beds only a few feet away now." I lift my head, hair that's still drying from being drenched in sweat plastered to my face. I catch a glimpse down the hallway, into my dad's dark room. I stretch my leg out and fling the door shut before letting him lift me off of the ground and half-carry me to my bed.

Alas. My sweet, sweet bed. I flop back onto it, in a much more pleasant manner than I did at Nicky's party. I hug my sheets close and pull them over my body, nuzzling my face in the familiar, comforting smell of home. I turn my head to look at Rhett, but see that he's already went back downstairs. Link probably came out of the bathroom to an empty living room, that would be funny to watch.

But enough thinking for now.

It takes me a solid 10 seconds to fall into a deep sleep.

My tight shoes dig into the back of my ankles, rubbing the skin raw. Dad joked about me having to stop growing so he doesn't have to go bankrupt buying me new shoes every month. But have you tried to stop growing? It's impossible. Even skipping on veggies and milk doesn't help. I still grow. But I won't ask for new shoes.

Walking home from school is the worst part of the day, though. I usually catch a ride with dad in the morning, and during class I can just slide the backs of these ugly little shoes off to stop the pain. I even sit out during recess, too. But the walk home is always the part I hate the most. And getting home to ice the blisters is a close second.

I turn down our block, picking up the pace now that our building is coming up. I can almost see it.

I slip my shoes off, grabbing them in one hand before booking it. I nearly drop my backpack from running so hard.

"Hey, dear. In a rush to get home?" Miss Carol from across the street waves from her car. "Don't forget homework, am I right?"

I smile at her before turning to our apartment building's lobby door.

"Oh- oh my God!!" I hear Carol scream, and I look back at her from the steps. She stays in place, planted still like a statue. She looks terrified.  I drop my shoes on the step before walking across the street.

"What?" I ask. Her eyes flicker onto me and widen.

"No! No! Go inside, go-"

I turn my back to her, looking at where her eyes keep darting to.

I see a figure on top of our building. Dark, against the blinding sky.

"Go inside!" She starts walking me across the street while ringing the police.

"T-there's someone standing on the ledge of the apartments on 17th and W-Wentworth!  I think they're g-gonna-"

My eyes stay plastered on them, and the closer we get to my building the more shade we step into, the more clearly I can see that it's mom.

"Oh, oh!!!! Hurry!!!!"

She steps back from the ledge. Her silhouette is gone, and I can't help but wonder why she wanted to stand up there.

But then, she reappeared. Running. She jumps and I my mouth flies wide open in a scream. I feel violently shaky hands grab me and turn me away. Miss Carol forces my face away and holds me still.

I hear a sickening sound, and Carol screams again, but doesn't stop.

I slowly fade back into consciousness, and immediately start sobbing. Quiet at first, but they slowly evolve into loud, howling weeps. I pull my blankets up and squeeze them for dear life, and it soaks up my steady stream of tears and snot. My body jolts in shaky, panicked breaths to ease my burning lungs.

My door bursts open, and suddenly Rhett is standing beside me.

"What happened? What happened? Are you okay?"

"Nightmare!" I cry out, it being all I can manage to say. I sit on the bed, rocking in place.

He sits on the bed with me, and firmly wraps me up in a hug, running that soothing hand of his through my tangled hair. I am unable to stop myself from crying long enough to explain, but I really don't care about what he thinks of me at the moment.

"It's gonna be okay." He kisses my forehead and another long weep escapes my miserable form into his chest. "It's just a dream. Okay? It's not real."

Yes, it is.