I say that I hate Timothée, that I hate seeing him in my dreams, that I hate how he's even in my dreams at all. Perhaps there is a portion of me that does. However, there's also part of me that prefers those nights where he creeps into those animated parts of my brain as I sleep. This is because he replaces the nightmares, like the one which comes tonight, and sends me spiraling back into consciousness with its denseness of anguish.
I am gasping for breath like I'm underwater. I've forgotten where I am, I've forgotten that it's safe here because I suddenly feel that it isn't. My heart is still in my throat, my fists still clenched from my dream, where I hear the banging on the door, the pounding, the yelling coming from behind it, while I sit rolled up in a corner, every hair on my body standing up. Then, the door being pounded, kicked, one more solid time, so hard that it comes flying off the hinges.
It's the same nightmare nearly every time. I am screaming so forcefully each time, that I always awaken myself at the same part.
Now awake, the screams are actually cries that sit in my throat, now spilling out from my lungs in gaping pants. I'm drenched in sweat, my body warm, vibrating off the rhythm of my racing heart.
The hysteric pants emerge into choking sobs, spraying my cheeks, my shaking legs curling into my numb, heaving chest. I'm safe. I'm safe. I'm okay.
And like a routine (one which I hate and feel guilty for, every time), Lara's dark silhouette is at the door and by my side in no time. She doesn't have to say much, because she knows it doesn't help.
"You're okay. You're here. You're okay," she whispers tenderly, echoing my thoughts, grounding me, reminding me of where I am. I prop myself up shakily, quieting down as Lara climbs in next to me, stroking my perspired hair. She hands me a pill from the bottle on my nightstand, and I take it with the glass of water she brought with her, drinking the whole thing down.
She already knows about that same nightmare. I don't have to tell it to her again. Soon, she falls asleep next to me, and it's enough to knock me back to sleep, although I'm terrified of the nightmare happening again.
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author's note
mini-chapter for some exposition. also, lara is the best friend that deserves the whole world, and we don't deserve her