Burnt

Chapter 4: Stares and Murmurs

Alison's POV

I wake up in the early hours of the morning. My chest is heaving and I'm drenched in sweat.

I had a nightmare. He was pushing me down and telling me to get up over and over again, taunting me to tears. That happened last year. I was working a cleaning crew shift, minding my own business when he happened upon me. He said I wasn't doing a good enough job, pushing me down before telling me to get back to work only to push me back down when I stood.

My head turns to look at my other mate. He's sound asleep behind me, spooning me against his chest. Tears continue to drip down my face as my throat tightens. I lift his arm off me gently and put it down on the bed next to him. I'm as quiet as I can be getting out of bed, desperate for some water and to be somewhere where I don't wake up Cameron over a silly dream.

The packhouse is silent at this time of night. It's almost comforting as I make my way to the kitchen. Most of the lights are turned off throughout most of the packhouse. The only light in the kitchen comes from the under cabinet lights. It's dim but light enough for me to see my way to the cupboard that has the glasses.

I'm always numb after a nightmare. My hands are shaky and my face is pale, tears still dripping down them slowly. I can hold back a lot of the tears but I can never quiet make my lip stop trembling. Emotionally, I'm fragile. I'm still feeling the hurt and anger and fear that I did in my dream. Physically, I'm literally numb. It's as if my body is still dreaming, adrenaline pumping through my veins to help fend off the monsters in my mind.

My body still feels numb as I reach up into the cupboard, stretching to reach the back of the shelf. The over head lights come on suddenly, startling me. I retract my arm from the cupboard and spin around, settling onto the heels of my feet. Once I'm facing the doorway I came in through, I see Chris standing next to the light switch.

"Alison?"

The shock is evident in his voice. "Are you okay?" He walks towards me slowly. I stay where I am, backed into the counter and too numb to care. He stops in front of me, his green eyes staring down at me.

I look up at him, but not in his eyes. My eyes dart around his face, eye contact too much for me to handle. "I'm fine." I say, looking down when my voice breaks.

Chris lifts his hand slowly and rests it on my shoulder. The movement is timid, as if he thinks he'll burn me. "No, you're not. I can feel it." He tells me. "Earlier, you were scared and angry. Now, you're just...exhausted." He continues."Was it a dream?"

I nod my head. My voice has proved itself to be untrustworthy.

"Do you get them often?"

His hand starts rubbing my arm gently. I nod again, looking down at my feet. He stops moving, his arm stills completely as if something terrible just occurred to him. "Are they...are they about me?" He asks softly.

My eyes close, trying to think of something to say. I don't have anything to say though. There isn't anything that I want to say. He knows what he's done. He knows that I'm scared of him and when I'm not scared I'm angry at him. There isn't any extra information that he needs. He asked but, he already knows.

He takes his hand off my arm and steps back. The extra space between us helps me to breathe a little easier.

I look back to his face, my heart involuntarily sinking when I do. He looks like he's in pain. His eyes are sad and missing their usual spark. "I know that I've told you already, but I'll keep saying it until you believe me. I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do to really make it up to you but I want to." He says, his sincerity shocking me.