Falling For The Opponent

Chapter 18

Marie's p.o.v:

I flew up in bed, screaming my head off. I felt a hand grab my arm tightly, and I flew around in panic. My eyes instantly met with those of Carter, and my panic levels dropped. "Marie," Carter gasped, "are you okay?" I nodded, but felt myself shaking violently.

"I'm so sorry for waking you up," I say.

"Don't be," Carter says, almost cutting me off. "I was screaming right there with you." I suddenly realize that Carter, too, is shaking and struggling to breathe. Sweat is pouring off his forehead and his eyes are wild with panic.

"Carter," I say, "are you okay?" He looks up at me, fear clear as day in his eyes. Suddenly, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me tightly to his chest.

"I'm just glad you're okay," Carter says, sadness and relief choking his voice.

"What do you mean?," I ask. "What are you talking about?" Carter pulls me onto his lap, cradling me like a small child in his arms. He looks down at me, his one hand resting on my cheek. For the next few minutes, he describes in discrete detail a nightmare he'd been having. How he was in an insane asylum and how he had killed a person, but he had chosen the electric chair over life, only to find out that the person wasn't actually dead and was in great danger because of their father. However, Carter couldn't escape and was killed.

"The worst part is," Carter says, swallowing, "is that you were that person." A tear rolled down his face. "I failed you." I pull myself up and wrap my arms around Carter's neck, kissing his tear stained cheek.

"Carter," I say, "you can never fail me. Besides, it was only a dream. That will never really happen." Carter leans down and gives me a small peck. "Now that you mention it," I say, "I had a nightmare too. Ironically about you." Carter's face presumes a look of worry.

"What did I do Marie," he asks.

"Nothing," I say, "it was my fault." Carter listens intently while I explain the person who looked like him, but had empty black eyes and wore the grey cloak. I explain our encounter, which makes Carter grimace, as if in pain. "In the end," I say, "he just ended up. . .disintegrating. . .or. . .something like that, but he only did that when I screamed out my love for you."

"He said that's what you really see when-"

"It's a lie," I say, cutting him off. "Nothing but old paranoia trying to get at me." Carter's about to say something when I smash his lips to mine. He holds me tight, pushing away the after effects of my nightmare. I feel his hand cup my cheek.

Later on, we just sat there , me nestled into his chest, watching Rob Dydreck (I think that's how you spell his last name) Fantasy Factory. If you've never seen this hilarious reality TV show about this skateboarding clown, then boy have you been missing out!

Carter's arm is curled around my waist, his hand messaging my side. "So what are we going to do today?," I ask Carter.
"Well it's supposed to rain all day," Carter says. "You want to just hang out here?" I nod and burrow deeper into his sweatshirt, listening to the rain pound on the roof above.
A little while later, Carter and I are sitting, looking at the rain as it hits the window. Soon, Carter turns away from it. "Carter," I say. "Are you okay?" I come up behind him and gently rub his shoulders. He shakes his head, as if coming out of a VR game.
"I can't look out that window," he says. He pauses for a few moments, taking a deep breath, his eyes closed. His eyes open with liquid streaming from them. "It reminds me to much that you tried to kill yourself," he says, his voice cracking. I just keep rubbing his shoulders, pulling his back close to my stomach.
"Oh Carter," I say softly, laying my head on the back of his neck. I feel his back inflate as he takes another deep breath. "It's okay Carter. Go ahead and cry. I'm right here." A small, high-pitched sound escapes Carter, the first sign that someone's about to cry. I move around Carter so I'm facing him, and his arms immediately embrace me. I kiss his cheeks and neck as he cries. "There you go Carter. Just let it out."
Carter cries for a little bit, stroking my hair and saying he's never letting go, then takes one long, deep breath, and his tears stop. He still doesn't let go of me, and I'm fine with that. So we just sit there on Carter's bed, holding each other tightly.