Shattered

Chapter 8: Nightmares

Violet's POV:

Trigger warning: This chapter contains mentions of/flashbacks of abuse and nightmares

"To understand another person, you must swim in the same waters that drowned them." - unknown

The weighted blanket was wrapped around me so tight, it was almost uncomfortable. That was exactly how I liked it. For the life of me, I couldn't hold myself together. I couldn't, but I sometimes convinced myself if I wrapped up enough in something that was supposed to comfort me, it could hold me together even if I couldn't.

I laid on my couch with that blanket and a cup of hot cocoa, watching the same movie I always watched when I needed comfort, needed to at least try to relax, needed to not be dwelling on everything so much I couldn't breathe. A shudder ran through me as I thought about why it was worse, why I needed the blanket. I held my blanket tighter as another shiver ran through me, but it wasn't because I was cold. It was because my nightmares were so bad the night before, I screamed loud and long enough that someone called the police. It was an entire ordeal I had to explain to both my neighbors and the dumbass officers was nothing. Nothing but my mind fucking with me, forcing me to remember things I didn't want to remember through twisted and convoluted images. Explaining that never went well.

Sorry officer, I swear I'm not crazy or lying, I just have horrible night terrors that feel so real I can't help but scream. I used to wonder why I always screamed when I should've known it wasn't real. Eventually I decided it was because at one point, it was very real.

It wasn't exactly an explanation I wanted to give, and so the interrogation went on painfully long until I started wondering if there was a way for me to never sleep again so I'd never have to go through that again. I was mortified, especially because it wasn't the first time it happened and it probably wouldn't be the last. If I were to ever find a safe place to settle down where I wasn't terrified of being found, I would get soundproof walls. That way no one would hear me scream. Thinking that caused another shudder.

No one ever heard me scream.

I hadn't drank as much last night because after being with Kaden, I felt lighter. I never felt light. I never felt okay, but after spending time with him, I felt okay. It was a strange but nice feeling, and by the time I got home, the alcohol had worn off and I didn't want anymore. I stupidly thought if I went to bed feeling okay, maybe the nightmares wouldn't come.

It was a stupid plan. I should've known better. Without the alcohol to disturb my REM sleep and make it so I couldn't dream, I was left with nothing but pain and quickly decided I would not be trying to sleep without it again.

I tried to focus on the movie and not let the tears escape. You are not going to cry over this shit again, Violet. You will not give them that power, I told myself. Easier in theory than in practice. Having a photographic memory wasn't as fun as movies depicted it to be. It meant I remembered everything. Every moment, every pain, every touch, every punishment, every single damn thing.

My chest tightened as my brain refused to get off the train headed to nightmare-station. The walls in my apartment suddenly felt too confining as the nightmare resurfaced to the front of my mind.

Trapped, I was always so trapped. That particular nightmare, it was an actual cage and I was an animal, an animal beaten into submission to perform for a circus. I did all the tricks I was supposed to, but no one ever wondered why or where I learned those tricks, they only wanted to see me perform, they didn't care what happened when I wasn't in the spotlight, what happened behind the scenes. They guessed it was as perfect as the fake performance I put on, they thought they knew, but they had no fucking idea. The crowds cheered and cheered. We love you, they chanted, not caring that once the show was over, I was back in my cage, back with...