The Lullaby Nights

♥ 20

NIGHT SIX

HARLEY

Wood crackled in the fire place. Except for the smoky scent of burning logs, there was a wet feel to the air as the French balcony doors stayed wide open. Gauze curtains billowed inwardly, welcoming rain drops onto an old oak flooring.

I shut my eyes and set a rocking chair, which I was relaxing on, into motion. This moment felt blissful. All I could hear was the sound of wood popping and a melancholic howling of the wild wind.

'Harley,' a voice spoke, somewhere near.

I ignored it.

'Harley,' it said again, making me frown.

I stayed determined at keeping my eyes closed.

'Can you not hear it?' the voice quizzed, making my head loll to the side in another attempt of ignoring it. 'Harley!' Whoever it was, stopped my chair from rocking. 'Can you not hear it!?'

My forehead creased. The voice was right. There was some noise coming from near far. It sounded like a person sobbing. A very tremulous and faint cry of sadness. But where was it coming from?

I tried to open my eyes. My heart thumped arythmically in my chest at the realization that I couldn't do it. It felt as if my eyelids were glued together.

The sobbing grew in strength, turning into a very high-pitch lamenting. It sounded horrifying. My pulse kicked up. Not only could I not open my eyes, but now, I also couldn't move. I was paralyzed.

And the sorrowful screams amplified, occurring closer and closer to my ears until I could feel a puff of hot air on my cheek.

My eyes snapped open. Disoriented, I stared at the ceiling, which seemed greyish in the darkness of the night. The dream was gone but the bawling continued. A sudden realisation struck me.

Nina.

I shifted in the bed, which we shared, and cupped her wetted face into my hands. 'What's wrong, babe?' I asked in a raspy voice.

Hearing me, she started crying even louder. It was an uncontrollable way in which she did.

'Nina,' I said softly. 'Please, baby, talk to me.'

Her baby-blue eyes, now stormy in the dark, flickered in my direction. Her lips then parted and released a dejected sound. 'I don't want to die, Harley.' She bawled again, obscuring her face with her hands. 'I don't want to die.' She howled like a beaten dog.

One part of me deceased with her words. The other one knew that I had to do something. I had to say something. But what could I tell her? She didn't want to die. It was clear as a day, and no matter what speech I would come up with, it wouldn't change the inevitable.

I exhaled a shaky breath. Seeing her this cast down was crushing my chest. Unable to say anything, I scooped her into my embrace and began to fondle her arm and cheek. It was all I could do. I could only hold her tight and make sure that she wouldn't feel alone like I knew that I would once she becomes nothing but the most prominent of my memories.

#

I couldn't believe how fast the time had flown. We were already into the sixth night out of nine. I would have lied if I said that it didn't make me queasy. I was worried sick. Worried that she could pass away any minute, which noticing how exhausted she felt today, had become a sinister possibility, hovering above our heads like a dark cloud.