A Whisper

12: Death Before Decaf

The grass was tall. I could smell the salty ocean air. My hair swirled in the breeze, tickling my face. I tilted my head up the sun bathed my face. It was exactly the kind of place Hadley and I used to talk about visiting. All of a sudden, I couldn't breathe. My eyes opened and I reached for my neck, trying to claw away whatever was wrapped around my throat. It just kept getting tighter and tighter. The more I struggled, the darker the world became.

"Take it, bitch. Tell me you fucking like it." A deep voice I didn't recognize growled in my ear. I felt panic fill me. My knees went weak and my body started to sag. All I wanted was to breathe.

"Pel... pelican," I choked out before everything went black.

I sat bolt upright in bed and screamed. My arms and legs flailed around, trying to get away from whoever was strangling me in my sleep.

"Sookie?" Eric said sleepily, rubbing my arm.

My head whipped around toward the sound of his voice and I realized I wasn't being choked to death on the beach. The panic was replaced by an overwhelming sadness and I burst into tears. I couldn't breathe for another reason after that. No matter how much air I tried to suck in between sobs, it wasn't enough.

He didn't say anything or hold me too tightly. He scooted a little closer and rubbed his big hand up and down my side. I had no idea what set me off. It had been so long since the last time I had a nightmare. They were rarely fun, but they weren't usually so violent. I never felt like I was being killed in my dreams before that moment. My heart was pounding and my head hurt... hell, my neck was even sore like I had actually been strangled.

It took what felt like hours to calm down.

"I'm sorry," I apologized.

"You don't have anything to be sorry about," he whispered.

"I didn't hit you or kick you, did I?" I knew I was flailing around. I'd kicked Bill once in my sleep and he wasn't as understanding or patient.

"It doesn't matter. I'm not hurt," he assured me. He reached up to run his fingers through my hair. "Are you okay?"

"No," I sniffled. "Ever since Hadley disappeared I've been having nightmares once in a while. This one was so violent. I was on this beautiful beach and then I was being strangled. It was awful. I felt myself dying."

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "You're safe as long as you're with me." He kissed my forehead.

I took a few more deep breaths and reached up to rub my sore neck. It felt a little too hot. I scooted off the bed to go to the bathroom for some water. When I flipped on the light I looked in the mirror above the sink.

"Oh my god," I gasped. Angry red scratches covered my neck. I must have done it in my sleep. A fresh wave of tears filled my eyes. I found a washcloth under the sink and dampened it with cool water, hoping it would soothe my skin. It was the worst nightmare I ever had.

Eric stepped into the bathroom. "Sookie... what the... what happened?" His expression was a mix of confusion, worry, and anger.

"I was trying to stop it from killing me," I explained. "I had to get his hands off my throat. I was fighting so hard and he was killing me."

He frowned as he stepped up behind me. He tilted my head to the side to inspect it.

"That must have been terrifying," he said empathetically.

"It was." I moved the washcloth away from my neck so he could see it.

Eric brought his hand up to run his thumb over the scratches. The look of anger and hurt was still clouding his face as stroked my neck.