A boulder choice

The Plot

   "Why not, Cara?" Chris asked, throwing his hands irritable in the air. For a moment his eyes sought backup in Ian who had yet to raise his opinion on the matter. "It's just for a few days. Besides," he added matter of fact, crossing his hands over his chest like he had when he was young and about to get his way. "Ian already agreed."

   Cara, raising her brow, shot a fleeting gaze at the fiancé before parting her lips to reluctantly agree. "How far?"

   Ian pushed himself off the counter on which he sat. "About 50 miles out. We'll have the site to ourselves."

   "Yeah," Chris chimed in. "It's a start up. A buddy of mine bought the place a few months ago. He'll appreciate the exposure with all the Instagramming you'll be doing."

   This made her even more hesitant. She adored her brother, admired him even, but like every bright star, he had shadows that stalked him. A particular demon was his friends. He had succumbed to them once before, dragged her to the ends of hell along with him. Miraculously they survived. As if a reflex the tip of her fingers brushed over her collar bone. The scar was less prominent.

   "Babe," Ian gently took her hands in his and brought them to his lips. The touch was warm against her cold, dry hands. "We deserve this. You worked your ass off this year, me and Chris too. It's free, and apparently picturesque. You'll love it."

   "We all will," Chris added.

   With a sigh, Cara agreed, nodding her head slightly.  She couldn't speak. The static hum in her ears echoed too loudly to find any words.

*

   She lay on the bed, the covers pulled to her chin. One by one the lights of the house went off. The silent flipping of switches sounded loud in her ears. It sounded like the dripping of water. Drip. Drip. Drip. She tried to scurry away from the falling droplets, blinking as each fell just above her brow, but she couldn't move.

   She watched as the house became darker. Ian's footsteps thudded against the wooden floor. He was humming a nameless tune her ears couldn't decipher. The thunderous hush, she guessed, was a debate as to what her fate would be. She tried to plea, bargain an escape, but only muffled whispers pierced through her cloth-covered lips.

   The clicks and thuds grew louder the closer Ian came to the bedroom. His humming became clearer, a song of loss. Her heart began to beat rapidly. A static beat drummed along. She couldn't breathe. Her head felt heavy, flooded with a nightmare she swore to have forgotten. It spun.

   She closed her eyes when Ian flipped their bedroom's switch, turning on her side as if asleep. She could hear him sigh. "It will be fun, Cara, I promise," he whispers in her ear before a gentle kiss brushed over her forehead.

   As he climbed into the bed and turned off the nightstand, a tear slipped through her closed eyelids.