Dreamsicle

4- Nightmares and Nicknames

Clementine POV-

Burning.

Everything around me is burning.

I try to see around the smoke but it's too thick and my eyes are too watery. I stumble around the house, hearing the screams of my family pulling me upstairs. Running up the burning steps, I can feel the soles of my shoes sizzling and melting into my skin.

The walk to my parents' bedroom felt like trying to walk through quicksand. Hurry. When I finally get there, I couldn't help but scream when I see them on fire. Almost like a switch was flipped, they were dead and the fire was gone, the charred remains of the room surrounding me like a prison. They opened 

"Why didn't you save us, Clementine? Why weren't you quicker? You could've saved us. YOU COULD'VE SAVED US!"

My brother came in and joined the chanting, holding his scorched hands out towards me to emphasize his point. They start to walk towards me and the fire started up again, I could feel it charring my shoulders and running up my face. I try to scream but the sound get stuck in my throat.

"Mom, Dad, Henry please. I'm sorry. It's all my fault"

~~~

I woke up with a scream, still smelling smoke. I can't breathe. I scream for my uncle but remembered that he's in Milwaukee and won't be able to answer calls. I try to get my breathing down by myself but all I can  hear is my family taunting me and my scars are burning and all I can see are the walls and the walls are on fire and-

Stop. Please stop.

I scramble for my phone on the nightstand and call the first number I see pop up. While it's ringing I tell myself that nothing's burning and I'm fine but I can't even hear my own voice anymore.

"Uhm, hello?" the voice on the other end said, startling me. Why does my uncle sound like that? I must've called Ego by mistake. Shit.

"Sorry, sorry," I manage to get out in between sobs. "I know I don't know you but I can't breathe please help me. It was my fault and they're dead and I all I can smell is smoke and my uncle isn't here and I can't breathe."

"Shit. Okay. Just listen to me, okay? What are five thigs you can see? I know it's hard, but trust me, it'll help," he said, sounding he was rustling things around on his end.

I looked around my room, still hyperventilating. "I-I can see my-my bed. I can see my desk, it has my journal on it. My r-rug, my curtains, and my hamper."

"Good. You're doing really well. Now what's four things you can feel? Try to describe them to me as well," he said gently.

"My comforter; my uncle got it for me last year and it has flowers on it. I can feel my pajamas, they have mushrooms on them," I said, getting a small chuckle out of my friend. "The wall. I painted it myself and it's a sage green color. One more thing... my necklace. It's gold heart pendant; it was my mom's. She gave it to me a few weeks before she dies, it was the her last gift to me. I don't take it off."

"Three things you can hear."

"You, the AC, and traffic. Why is there so much traffic at like one in the morning?" I say absent-mindedly, already forgetting about my panic attack.

"New York. City that never sleeps. Ring a bell?" he drawls teasingly, going back to Dad Mode™ almost immediately. "We're almost done now. Two things you can smell."

"My coconut shampoo and the general NYC stench."

He snorted, finding the word 'stench' appropriate. "Sounds about right. Last one. What's one thing you can taste."

"Easy," I state. "My toothpaste. I'm feeling a lot better now mister. Sorry for bothering you this late and thank you for helping me."

"It's not problem at all, okay? I get panic attacks too. Was your dream about the fire? It'll help if you talk about it."

I took a deep breathe before replying, "Yeah. It was about the fire. They kept saying it was my fault and I could've saved them. I tried so hard but I couldn't get to them. It hurts, ya know?" I was sniffling again, trying to keep the tears at bay while I talked. 

After a few seconds, Ego replied. "I know. My parents died when I was 21 in a car accident, I couldn't imagine being there for that. I will say this though: it wasn't your fault, kiddie. At all. Unless you were the one that started the fire with gasoline and a match, which I doubt. Yeah, it sucks that you couldn't save them, but I'm sure happy that you're still here, wherever they are now. It's easy to lose yourself in the what if's, but it's not healthy."

I took his words in, letting them settle in my brain, eventually smiling when I realized that he was right. "I guess you're right. Anyways, what about you? I'm sure I woke you up," she added that last part guiltily, thinking about the inconvenience she was probably causing him.

"Nah, you're good. I'm in my lab right now.  My sleep cycle is pretty fucked up, I probably won't be going to bed for a couple more hours. You need to get some sleep though. It's a school night and it won't do you any good to stay up all night."

I laugh, feeling lighter than I have in a while. "Alright Dad, I'll go to bed now," I say teasingly, emphasizing his point with a large yawn. I heard a noise of surprise come from his throat at the name, but I elected to ignore it. "Thank you again for your help. Seriously. Sometimes My attacks get so bad I pass out so I'm glad you answered."

There was a pause before, "That's... concerning, but I'll let that statement slide for now. Goodnight Fruit Cup, I'll check tomorrow to make sure you eat your greens and make your bed." Yep, definitely leaning into the whole dad thing. I smile at the nickname, deciding that it fits well enough considering my real name.

I smile before saying goodnight, hanging up and getting under the blanket that I had kicked off in my panic.

Tomorrow's gonna be a good day.