Iris

03 | brothers

      I squeezed my eyes shut once again in another miserably failed attempt to go back to sleep. It was dark. And it would've been considered silent if the heart rate monitor wasn't beeping in my ears. And if my brother — Elliott — wasn't talking to someone on his phone.

I couldn't feel any pain, probably because of the painkillers. But I had apparently spent too long hours sleeping during day that I couldn't sleep now.

I sighed for what felt like the millionth time in both frustration and annoyance. I was getting bored from staying in the same place and position for too long.

It wasn't that I hadn't spent a long time in the same position previously. Because that was something I had obviously done for many times. It was just that I had never been awake for most of the times.

My eyes travelled to the window as I stared at the sky. Stars were scattered across the dark sky, making it look like a masterpiece. It looked so calming and mesmerising.

But then again, even the most beautiful masterpiece would have a bitter truth hidden beneath its deceptive covers.

It was a night like this when it all happened. I thought that the sky looked beautiful and that nothing could possibly go wrong. And well, here I am. In a hospital with bruises and wounds scattered all over my body.

I found myself panicking once again at the mere thought of that night and at all the flashbacks that had started to replay over and over again right before my eyes.

My hand clutched onto my chest and started rubbing it in circles in an attempt to ease the pain that had taken over. My breaths turned ragged and heavy, as if every breath I took was a torture. I scanned the room through my teary vision, searching for any source of comfort. Or anything I could focus on to distract myself.

A grip on my shoulder startled me, making me flinch away with horror and fear. All I could imagine was James' figure. All the anger, rage, and hatred swirling within his dark eyes. And the sickening smirk his lips had always held.

"I won't hurt you, Iris." I heard a voice say. A voice that sounded familiar.

Through the corner of my eyes, I managed to see Elliott's figure sitting on the edge of the bed beside me, his eyebrows furrowed in both concern and panic.

I wanted to comfort him. Tell him that I was fine, even though I wasn't. Or perhaps tell him that I'd be fine. That I had dealt with this before. But the lump in my throat stopped me from doing so.

"Shit. I'll c-call the nurse," muttered Elliott, nothing other than stress and panic lacing his deep voice.

I stubbornly shook my head. If he called one, she'd give me more medications. Ones that would make me fall asleep once again. And even though I loved darkness, it was never the sleep's darkness that I loved. It was filled with horrors and nightmares.