CHAPTER TWENTY
ADELAIDE
It is as if sleep and I have an old grudge. After three consecutive days of running, you would expect me to be completely worn out, sleeping like a dead person but I've not been getting more than three hours of sleep in a couple of days.
My insomnia is acting more than usual. I'm very aware of the purple bags under my eyes and almost colorless skin. And now-a-days, when I go for a nightly stroll in the Gardens, Nick is not waiting for me. I sit there in solitude, often crying in self pity. I spend the night staring up at the bright twinkling stars, wondering if my mother is doing the same too and in the morning, I release my pent of frustration when I practice archery and vigorous exercises which often results in bruises and scratches.
One night, I was almost asleep. My eyelids were so heavy. Suddenly I hear some faint screaming. At first I think that I'm in a dream but then the screaming doesn't stop.
Who is screaming?
Not me. As my head gets clearer, I finally understand that it's not in my dream or in my head and l recognize the voice. I keep stumbling until I reached the room, cursing my disorientation.
"Newt!" I bang on the door. "Open up!"
He keeps yelling and sobbing. I twist the knob, hoping it to be unlocked and pushed the door open.
The light of the room is on and the boy is on his bed, his face shining with sweat and tears. He is hanging on the edge of his bed. I stride to him, steadying him on his bed, clutching his hands, that is in a very tight fist. Tears roll out from the corner of his eyes and an unbearable pain shoots through my heart.
"Newt, wake up. Wake up." I sound raspy. He starts to cry more. I wipe his eyes with the pad of my thumb. "Please wake up. It's okay. I've got you. It's just a dream."
I cradle him in my arms, hugging him close. I stoke his hair from his forehead.
What is happening to him? Why isn't he waking up? Should I call someone? Or slap him awake? What should I do?
"No!" he mumbled in sleep. "Please don't!"
Why? What is he seeing? Is someone hurting him?
" Wake up." I yell louder, hoping he would hear me, "It's just a dream."
His eyes shoots open and his frantically darted everywhere. He sits up and I cup his cheeks in my hand, "Its okay. It's just a dream." His sees me and his eyes softens, his shoulders sagging in relief.
"Addie." He whimpers. He grabs my hand, like a guarantee that he is out of his dream; into the reality. He looks so scared. So vulnerable that it brakes my heart into million of pieces.
"It's okay. You're okay. It's only a dream. It's not real." I say, soothingly. He tries to smile but fails miserably. Whatever he dreamt of, had shaken him real bad.
"I'm sorry. I woke you up." He says, sniffing.
"No, it's not your fault. You were having a nightmare." I really want to ask him what he dreamt of; what made him so scared, but I don't. If I don't tell him my dreams, I can't expect him to tell me his too.
"You should go back to sleep." I say. I know it was impossible after the kind of nightmare he just had, but there is nothing else I can do. He looks at me, hesitation flooding his eyes. "Can you stay with me here? I mean it's okay if you don't-"
He doesn't has to ask me twice.
"Okay."
He blinks in surprise and scoots back and I lay beside him. I wrap my arms around him and hesitantly pull him closer to me. I can hear his heart beating loudly.
Or is that mine?
I snuggle closer to his warmth and he sighs against my hair. He buries his head in the crook of my neck. My breath gets hitched and my skin tingles. I am thankful that he can't see me blushing.
"You know, you've never told me how you got that bow and arrows." He says smugly. "You always avoid that topic."
Ah shit!
I press my face against his soft hair. He smells of freshly mowed grass and damp mud, obvious because he stays in the Gardens the majority of his day.
Wow.
"I'm still waitin' for it ." I hear Newt say in an amused voice. I want nothing more than the ground to swallow me as whole. I want to dig a pit and sit into it, forever. Maybe they will take me as a stone and leave me alone.
"I borrowed one from the weapon room in the Deadheads." I mumble.
Newt is silent for a moment. "It is locked." He says, confusion clearly in his voice.
"I may or may not have picked the lock."
"I'm not even gonna ask why you learnt that." He chuckles. My heart explodes.
What is happening to me?
"Maybe I was a part-time thief."
"More like the Robin hood." He yawns.
"I'm not," I copy him, remembering my dreams and flashbacks, my eyes suddenly feeling heavy, "I'm not a good person."
"Don't say that.. you are the one of the best person I've ever known." He says in a drowsy voice.
"I hurt people. Emotionally and physically. I have got some memories...... It's no wonder that I know about .....weapons and my flashbacks are usually....." I blink slowly, each of my eyelids weighing like tons, "-of blood and pain." I don't know why I was saying it, but somewhere I am glad that I did.
Newt was saying something, but I am pulled under.