~𝒜𝒹𝒶~
Nightmare. A noun. Meaning, a terrifying dream in which the dreamer experiences feelings of helplessness, extreme anxiety, sorrow, etc.
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I gasp for air as I fly up out of Gilbert's bed. The room is filled with an oppressive tension, and my heart races with each second. I look around for any sign of forced entry. The dresser is back in its original spot, I lean over to find that the drawers are indeed full of trinkets. The bed is still covered in Gilbert's letters.
Relief washes over me as I take in the familiar surroundings of the room. The anxious feeling continues to course through my veins through. The haunting echoes of Nate's laughter fade away, replaced by the soft hum of the night. My hands shake as I touch the dresser, confirming its solidity. It was all a dream, a vivid nightmare that felt too real.
I run my fingers through my disheveled hair, trying to ground myself in reality. The moonlight spills through the window, casting a calming glow on the room. Slowly, I rise from the bed and approach the mirror, searching for any lingering traces of fear in my eyes.
As I meet my own gaze, the truth sinks in – it was just a dream. Gilbert's room was empty, and I was alone. The weight on my chest begins to lift, and I take a deep breath, savoring the reassurance that the nightmare was not real. Yet, the haunting whispers of his voice linger in my mind.
"I definitely need a dog or something." I whisper to myself.
The floorboards creak loudly from outside, causing my heart to leap into my throat once more.
"You can't hide forever, Ada Faye." Nate's voice creeps into my mind once more. Panic grips me once again as the nightmare's tendrils refuse to fully release their hold. I glance around the room, my eyes searching for a makeshift weapon, a desperate attempt to protect myself from an unseen threat.
My fingers close around a heavy book and a candlestick on the nightstand, and I hold them tightly, ready to defend. I make my way into the kitchen, not looking away from the door once. I sit down the heavy book, find the drawer with the knives and grab the first one I feel. I won't go down without a fight. The sound of the front door opening intensifies the tension in the room, and I stand poised, adrenaline coursing through my veins. The knife feels both comforting and inadequate in my trembling hands.
As the door swings open, I quickly yell. "Don't come any closer!" I throw the candlestick towards the door, hitting Nate in the head.
I hear him hiss in pain before slowly standing back up. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out something. The tiniest light flickers, a flame and lights the candle. I can't see much through my blurred vision.
It must be another trick. He takes a step closer, I take a step back and trip backwards, falling on my bum. Gosh I'm very clumsy. I hold out the knife as my heart pounds in my chest. "I said don't come any closer!" I shriek.
"Ada?"
The revelation hits me like a sudden storm, and my grip on the knife falters. The knife drops from my grasp, clattering to the floor, as I release the breath I didn't realize I was holding. Confusion and vulnerability linger in my eyes as I try to compose myself, the lines between dream and reality still blurred in the aftermath of the vivid nightmare. Staring wide-eyed at Gilbert, the lines between nightmare and reality blur once again. The candlelight dances on his concerned face, replacing the sinister image I had painted in my mind. He places it in an empty holder before sitting by me on the floor.
"I... I thought..." I stammer, the adrenaline-fueled panic still coursing through my veins. Gilbert reaches out, concern etched on his features. I yank him towards me to make sure this is truly real.
"Ada, what's the matter? What has happened?" Gilbert's voice is a lifeline in the aftermath of the chaotic scene. He gently takes my trembling form into his arms, offering solace in the dimly lit room.
The weight of the nightmare, now mingled with the overwhelming relief of reality, crashes over me. Tears stream down my face as I cling to him desperately, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt. "Please," I plead, my voice quivering, "don't ever leave me again." The words spill out, a raw expression of fear and vulnerability that the vivid dream had stirred within me. "Promise me." I sob uncontrollably.
"I promise. I promise." Gilbert holds me tighter. The candle flickers, casting a warm glow on the scene of shared vulnerability. Between sobs, I try to articulate the lingering terror that the nightmare left behind, the palpable fear that he could disappear as quickly as he did in the dream.
In that vulnerable moment, words become inadequate. The depth of my emotions pours out in tears and shaky breaths, a cathartic release from the haunting echoes of a dream that felt too real. As the seconds pass, the room becomes a sanctuary, and the assurance of Gilbert's presence becomes the balm that soothes the wounds of the night.
This isn't how I expected our reunion to go. But I am grateful to have him here now.
A shadowed figure comes to stand over us making my nails dig into Gilbert. "It's okay! It's okay!" He whispers. "This is my friend, Sebastian."
My eyes could be deceiving me. But there is a colored man in Gilbert's kitchen. Not that I care. I've just never seen one set foot in Avonlea.
"Evening, Ma'am. I'm sorry we gave you such a freight." He holds out a hand. His accent is amazing. I reach out to shake his hand.
"Hello, Sebastian." I continue to struggle through tears but he seems understanding. "You must be the one that Gilbert writes about all the time."
"And you must be the pretty girl he talks about all the time." He gives a warm smile, bringing me comfort and a blush to my face.
"Why don't we get you back in the bed?" Gilbert asks, changing the subject. "And you can tell me what is bothering you." The thoughts run through my head again making me violently shake my head. "Hey. Hey. That's fine we can do whatever you want to."
"I'll leave you two alone while I bring my things to my room." Sebastian looks to Gilbert.
"Ah. Last room on the right." Gilbert points to the hallway. Sebastian nods and walks off. He looks back to me and brushes the hair out of my face. His dark eyes stare into my sad ones. He runs his hand over my cheek before cupping it. "What's happened to my Ada Faye?" He whispers, his warm breath hits my face and warms my heart. "I hate seeing you like this. Especially when I've been expecting a very different scenario for our long awaited reunion."
I give him the best giggle I can muster up. "This isn't my cup of tea either." I run a hand through his brown locks. "I can't believe you are here."
"I've missed you so much." He gives my ear a small squeeze. "Why don't I carry you to bed?" I go to object but he cuts me off. "I promise I won't leave you." I hesitantly nod. He takes me by surprise when he stands up with me in his arms.
"How are you-"
"I might've gained some muscle while I was away." He insists proudly.
We make it to my room and he gently places me on the bed. I pull the blanket over my body while he walks to the other side. My shoulders shake as I try to calm myself down. After a minute or so I feel the bed dip and Gilbert is across from me.
"You're shivering-" he leans forward and places his lips on my forehead. "-but you're burning up." Well I wonder why?
"I don't want to talk about it right now." I whisper. My eyes meet his. This still doesn't feel real.
He nods slowly. "That's okay. There's no pressure."
With a gentle understanding, Gilbert rises from his side of the bed and moves closer. He lies down beside me, his presence a reassuring anchor in the dimly lit room. Carefully, he pulls me into his arms, enveloping me in a comforting embrace.
The warmth of his touch and the rhythmic beating of his heart against mine offer a sense of security that words couldn't convey. I nestle against him, finding solace in the shared quietude. The room, once filled with the echoes of a haunting nightmare, transforms into a haven of peace and comfort.
As we lie there, the weight of the night slowly lifts, replaced by a serene calm. The touch of Gilbert's fingers tracing soothing patterns on my back becomes a silent promise that I'm not alone anymore.