On The Other Side

Chapter 28 - Nightmares

GEORGE
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"I'm gonna get you, George," Pablo chuckles, that ever-present grin etched across his face.

I try to turn around and escape, but his hand snatches mine and pulls me back. He begins removing my clothes, and now there's an overwhelming surge of tears. They cascade down my face in torrents.

I can feel his length against my bare skin, I gasp as he pushes inside, and suddenly, I jolt awake from the dreadful nightmare.

Tears flow freely down my cheeks, and I'm gasping for air, my frantic fingers searching for the tent's zipper in the dark, desperately craving the fresh air outside.

"George, what happened?" Clay's voice sounds distant, blurred by the adrenaline surging through my body.

I don't respond, my sole focus on finding the tent's zipper. Then, a light flickers on, and Clay unzips the tent, allowing me to rush outside. I sprint towards a nearby tree, leaning against it for support, trying to shake off the remnants of the terrifying dream.

Fear courses through my entire body and adrenaline surges through my veins, leaving me trembling and on edge.

"George?" Nick mumbles sleepily from the hammock before getting up, his concern evident in his drowsy voice.

Clay rushes over to us, his face filled with concern. The surroundings become increasingly foggy, and before I know it, I'm sitting on a log with Nick beside me while Clay paces back and forth in front of us.

"Breathe, George," Nick says soothingly and takes a deep breath, signaling for me to do the same with a reassuring gesture.

I take a deep breath, following Nick's lead, and then we both exhale. We repeat this two more times, and gradually, my vision begins to clear up.

I'm trembling, and Nick wraps his hoodie around me, but it doesn't provide much comfort. My shivers aren't because I'm cold, they're because I'm scared.

"It was just a bad dream, alright?" Clay says gently, crouching down in front of both me and Nick.

I take another deep breath and nod in acknowledgment, trying to steady my racing heart and regain my composure.

"You can talk to us, George. We're here for you, and we'll always be," Nick reassures, his words causing my heart to swell with gratitude and comfort.

A faint, grateful smile forms on my lips as I nod in response. Nick pulls me into a comforting hug, and Clay joins in, enveloping us both in a warm embrace. In that moment, their support means everything.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" Nick asks as we pull away from the hug. I meet his gaze and nod in agreement. However, I notice a peculiar exchange between Nick and Clay. Nick gives Clay an odd look, and when I turn my attention to Clay, he shakes his head.

"Someone should stay here," Clay suggests, "you know, to keep an eye on the camp and ensure it's safe." He adds with a hint of humor, and Nick chuckles in response.

What are they up to?

Nick and I get dressed and make our way to the river, taking a stroll along it.

For a while, we walk in silence, and with each passing moment, I feel a growing desire to tell him everything. His presence makes me feel safe.

"I had a dream about Pablo..." I begin, finally breaking the silence and opening up to Nick.

Nick falls into a thoughtful silence, likely searching for the right words to respond. It's a situation with no easy answers, and I understand how challenging it can be to find the right words to offer comfort or understanding in such a moment.

"He's always in the back of my mind," I whisper, revealing the scary presence of Pablo's memory in my thoughts.

"Look, I promise you that when we get to Florida, Clay and I will find you the best therapist, and you'll get better, I promise," Nick reassures me with genuine concern. I appreciate his support, but deep down, I'm unsure if any therapist can truly help me. It feels like an impossible battle.

"Were you using before you met us?" I ask, changing the topic, and he nods.

"Yeah, and I never stopped. I just haven't had the time to think about it much because of everything going on," he explains. Then he turns the question back to me, "What about you?"

I let out a sigh and nod. "Yeah, I did. That's actually how Clay and I met," I admit. "It was at one of the recovery meetings."

"When I saw how you both wanted to survive just for each other when you were locked up, I actually thought you two were a couple," Nick chuckles, lightening the mood with a touch of humor.

"Wait, why?" I smile, curious about his perspective.

"You both didn't care about what happened to yourselves, only about what happened to each other," he explains, and his insight makes me smile even wider.

I like how Clay cares about me.

"We're not a couple." I chuckle.

"You two would be cute together, though," he remarks, and his comment sends a rush of butterflies through my body.

I fall silent, getting lost in thoughts of Clay and me being a couple. However, as I consider the idea of intimacy, a wave of nausea washes over me, and the intrusive memory of Pablo creeps back into my mind, darkening my thoughts once more.

"He really likes you..." Nick says, picking up on the change in my mood and attempting to offer some reassurance.

"I know, and I really like him too. It's just..." I sigh and cast my gaze downward at my moving legs. "We kissed, and it was incredible. But I'm scared because I can't stop thinking about Pablo, and I don't want to hold Clay back..." My voice trails off as I voice my concerns about my trauma affecting our relationship.

"George," Nick stops and turns to face me directly, his eyes filled with empathy. "You need time and space, and Clay will understand, I know he will. What you two have is special."

I smile a little and nod. "Let's go back."

He nods and while we're walking back, he tells me about his rich uncle and the collection of luxury cars that he has.

When we return, Clay is fast asleep in Nick's hammock, snoring loudly. Nick sighs and shakes his head.

"You can sleep in the tent," I whisper to avoid waking Clay.

"You can join me." he teases with a grin.

I shake my head and respond, "I'm not tired," as Nick nods and makes his way into the tent.

I steal another glance at Clay, my lips curving into a smile. Swiftly, I retrieve my phone from my pocket and snap a picture of him. Afterward, I settle onto a nearby log, comfortably leaning against the tree.

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