Gabbie Hanna- Out Loud
Hope's POV
The stiff cold air pierced my face and I wrapped my black jacket tighter around me. It was dark, and only years of walking down this street to tell me where I was. I squinted in the dark, annoyed that the streetlight was busted. A faint light was up ahead from the next one.
I turned to look at my cousin but she seemed unfazed by the cold. Even in winter she manages to look stunning without making her look like she was taking a trip to Antarctica.
"Remind me why I let you drag me to that horrible movie again," I whined and not for the first time. Isabelle had convinced me to see this horrible chick flick that had just released in theaters. I had slept during most of the part and when she finally noticed, near the ending, she had woken me hastily, claiming that I was missing all of it.
"Because it's an amazing movie! You just have horrible tastes."
I rolled my eyes. "I can say the same for you." I wrapped my arms around my body in a failed attempt to keep warm. The jacket wasn't helping much. "It's too cold. Let's take a shortcut," I said. Isabelle nodded in agreement.
We cut through an alley. It was all dirt and shadows. The smell of alcohol empowered the pavement, and it was all I can do not to gag. We ran through it, taking a deep breath before we passed through.
A group of guys were huddled around an old apartment's stairs. As we exited out the alley, they turned to look at us. One of them whispered something to his friends and strolled toward us. There's a tattoo of a lion and fangs longer than it's face on his arm. That's when I realized he wasn't even wearing a jacket. White people.
"Hey. Where you off to? Come hang out with us." He was looking at Isabelle when he said it and even though I was sure this was a dangerous situation, I felt disappointed that he wasn't talking to me. He was cute, after all.
Isabelle didn't look flattered.
She glares at him. "No thanks."
"Come on. It's all good, Ma." He moved closer to her. He smelled like alcohol, the smell was strong and nauseating. She stepped back but he moved closer to her, a grin marking his face. He grabbed her hand, but she recoiled. His hands squeezed her wrist as she tried to pull it back and she gasped.
Fear imprisoned my body, forcing me to watch. Isabelle, however, raised her chin, defiance in her eyes. I've always admired her fearlessness and bravery. Even though I wasn't the one in immediate danger, I couldn't move or speak.
When she kicked him in the groin, he released his grip and stumbled, clutching himself.
"Fuck!" His friends laughed. He turned to look at them before he turned back and advanced toward us. Something awakened inside me then, and with my heart hammering in my chest, I grabbed her hand and ran.
But the guy was too fast. He grabbed both of us by the back of our jackets. "Yo, chill," One of his friends yelled.
"Shut the fuck up!" He snarled before he turned to us. "Where you think you going, huh? You better come with us if you know what's good for you."
"Fuck off!" Isabelle yelled, squirming against his grip. He barely seemed to notice.
"The fuck you said to me?"
She stomped on his feet and he finally let go, anger masking his face. "Go to hell," She spat. "I'd rather die."
"Oh yeah? You sure about that?" He snarled. He pulled a black metal object and pointed it at her. A gun. I screamed and started retreating my steps. Her eyes widened but she remained in place.
"Yo! What the fuck?" One of his friends yelled.
"Shut up, Vice. Stay out of it." This isn't happening. This isn't happening.
I took her hand and dragged her along with me. My eyes focused on the ground, careful not to fall. "Hurry! When we reach a few more blocks, we'll hide and call the-"
The sound of a gunshot rang in my ear. "Hurry!" I yelled again, until I realized her grip is no longer on mine. I turn and find her gasping on the ground.
"Isabelle, get up. Get up, now!" I order as I run back to her side. I kneel down next to her. Her face is wet with tears as she frantically shakes her head.
"Help me," Her voice is shaking to the point that I can barely make out what she's saying. "I don't want to die. I... I'm not ready." Her body is heaving up and down and I shake my head, mirroring her.
"You won't. Get up. Now." I grab her shoulders before I hear another shot, right behind me. I flinch hard and when I open my eyes, her face is unrecognizable. My head is still shaking. "Get up! Get up!" I can barely recognize my own voice.
"Isabelle. Isabelle!" But she isn't responding. Why isn't she responding? My hands are shaking involuntarily as I hear movements behind me. I finally turn and see a guy tackling the one with the gun. I turn back and whisper, "Isabelle. If we run now, he won't catch us."
Her body is too still and I shake her shoulders. There's red everywhere. Is it blood? Why is it so much? Why can't I see her face? Why do I only see red?
"Isabelle, you're bleeding," I finally realize. I can almost hear her laughter as she sarcastically responds no shit. but she doesn't make a sound. "Say something, it's okay." I stroke her hair, to calm her down. I hear yelling behind me and turn to see the guy named Vice on top of the man.
"Run!" I think he's saying. He's repeating it over and over but why should I run? My cousin is injured and I'm not leaving without her. I try to explain but my lips aren't moving. Frustrated, I turn back and shake her shoulders.
"Let's go! Or I'm leaving you!" I threaten. She still doesn't answer.
Suddenly I feel cold. Wasn't it hot a few moments ago?
My legs is soaked. Isabelle hates being wet.
I try to lift her but when she drops back down, my eyes suddenly see. I see. There is blood everywhere. It's too much. And her face... Her face isn't there? Where did it go? What's happening?
My vision darkens and I wave my hand in front of me. Is this a dream? I must be dreaming. Isabelle wouldn't just lie on the floor like an idiot when someone was trying to kill us.
A laugh escapes my throat. What a stupid dream.
My vision goes black.
Darkness.
***
I didn't realize I was screaming until I opened my eyes to find my parents bursting in the room, frantic. I recoil, surprised by the sudden guests. Sean and a few securities are behind them but when Sean realizes the situation-now a routine-he leaves with the others and quietly closes the door behind him.
I close my eyes but the images starts playing. I quickly open them.
"It's okay, honey," My mom says as she sits beside me on the bed and strokes my hair. My chest is heaving heavily and it feels like weight has been pressed on it. I press my hands to my eyes and release a shaky breath.
"It's just a dream," My mom softy says. I feel the bed sink on my other side, and I know my dad has joined me. What time is it? Did I wake them? Of course I did. This happens all the time, it must be frustrating to have such a busy day and then to be awakened by screams in the middle of the night.
I grit my teeth in anger and despair, trying to bite back the burning sensation in my eyes.
I feel my dad's arms around me. I release another shaky breath. In. Out. In. Out.
"Are you taking your pills?" My mom quietly asks.
I don't answer her. Why should I take it? Maybe I should suffer like this. It happened three years ago, and yet I was still being punished by revisiting those memories. If it wasn't for me, Isabelle and I would've made it home safe. If I hadn't decide to take a shortcut, we would be fine. If I hadn't stood there like a fucking idiot, we would probably be fine. I don't even know how I made it out alive. I didn't deserve it, anyway. I should've-
"Stop it," My mother gently commands, lifting up my chin. I train my eyes on the wall. "I know you blame yourself but it's no one's fault. You hear me? You couldn't have known that it would happen."
I stay silent. If she were there, she'd blame me too. It should've been me, I want to tell her, but she won't understand.
"Maybe we should call Dr. Stein. It's been a while. We thought your dreams had stopped," I hear my mom say.
"I'm fine," I whisper but my voice betrays me.
"You're not," My dad says firmly. "How often has this been happening?" I stay silent. Sometimes I wake up in cold sweat without screaming. It's what's happening lately, so my parents are unaware of how frequent it's been. For some reason it was getting worse. I went without that horrible nightmare for 6 months straight. And then something oblivious to me triggered it and now it occurs frequently like before.
It's been three years and yet it feels like yesterday in my sleep. It's weird because I hardly remember the events of what happened unless it's in my dreams. Except the ending. It replays in my head, awake or sleep, until my mind has had enough.
"If this happens again, I'm calling him, okay?" My dad's voice is low as he pulls me into him. After a few moments of silence, he asks, "What do you need?"
"I just want to sleep." My voice is sore and raspy.
"I'm staying here tonight," My mom informs me. She doesn't wait for an answer as she climbs in and pulls the cover over her.
My dad scoffs. "What? So I can be lonely tonight? Scoot over." I offer him a weak smile as he stretches out beside me.
I settle in between them and close my eyes. I have to admit, it helped having people sleep next to me. It makes me feel safe in a sort of way. It's probably why I usually sleep peacefully when my friends are over. Or when I fall asleep talking to someone.
"Thanks," I whisper. My mom nods. I close my eyes while she gently strokes my hair. It's relaxing and distracting, and my mind finally stops playing those awful images.
Listening to my mom softly humming, I can pretend I'm 6 years old again and I close my eyes, knowing sleep won't come again tonight.
*****
The chapter is called, "Is But A Dream Within a Dream." It's part of a quote. Anyone get the reference?
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