The Pain That Grows Us

Chapter Thirteen

The thing no one likes to talk about is that dreams can turn into nightmares, and nightmares can turn into dreams. Our brains are funny that way. My problem is I don't know which one I am in. I mean anyone would take one look at the girl in my arms and tell me this is the best fucking dream they have ever had. But I take one look at the girl in my arms and wonder if this is all just some sort of cruel joke.

The worst part is I know I am dreaming. She can't be here, not when she doesn't know that I am in a recovery house. Not when the rest of the world is convinced that I don't deserve to speak with her. Not that I could argue with that statement. I wasn't exactly in my right mind the last time I talked to her.

But right now, this feels nice. My fingers trail up her bare arms slowly, goosebumps rise on her arms at the same time she shivers at my touch. Fuck. I wish this was real.

"I miss you." the words leave my lips as if they are a dying man's last statement, I need her to know that, even if she isn't real.

"I know." her fingers trace the tattoos on my chest, and that simple touch has me hard.

"I want this to be real." so damn bad.

"Me too." she sighs, sitting up so her blonde hair falls around her shoulders, the moonlight makes her hair look like golden fire. "Too bad this will never happen, Jack."

"What?" my breath hitches.

"You killed me, remember? Ryan even told you that." she says tilting her head.

Fucking dream turned into a nightmare.

"No. You are alive. I just can't find you." I whisper, closing my eyes. I can't look at her now. Not when my brain is turning such a perfect moment into a living hell.

"You don't really believe that do you?" She laughs, "Do you remember what you fucking said to me? Let me remind you what you said to me. You said and I repeat "I don't love you. I never want to see you again. I never want to hear your name ever again, Ruby."

I don't want to think about that. Not when the thought of what I said to her makes my throat close up, and my heart pound in my chest. Is this what a panic attack feels like?

"Hurts doesn't it?" She mocks.

Hot salty tears stream down my face as I fight to breathe. I can't fucking breathe. I can't fucking think.

"You did this to me Jack. Remember that." She says with a laugh and just like that she is gone. I am in the room and Jason is only a few feet away from me peacefully sleeping, if only I could wake him up. He would be able to help me.

"Jack." I try calling out as her voice rings in my head. "Wake up Jack." Doesn't she know how badly I want to?

"Fucking wake up Jack!" She shouts at me, as the world around me starts going black. I didn't think there could be so many different shades of black. "He is turning blue."

My eyes fly open and I am met with two very worried faces hovering over mine and the fucking sun.

"I don't know what the fuck you were dreaming about but I don't think I want to know." Jason shudders, wrapping his arms around Talia.

"I think you should see my dad." She leans into Jason's touch as if my panic attack physically affected her.

"I am fine." No I am not. I am the furthest thing from fine. But seeing her dad isn't going to help me. No, the only thing that could calm my still racing heart is seeing Ruby. But that is fucking impossible right now.

"Jack. You stopped breathing." Jason tightens his hold on Talia.

"Just think about it." Talia whispers disentangling herself from Jason as if she just realized how she was clinging to him and he was clinging to her.

Jason's face falls as she walks out of the room. A few days ago I thought it was pathetic the way he looked at her. But if I was in the same room as Ruby right now and she walked out, I would probably have the same reaction.

"Breakfast is in twenty minutes." Jason sighs walking out of the room.

↞↞↞↞

Somehow Jason and Talia- mostly Talia convinced me to see Dr. Jeffery after.... After the dream turned into a nightmare. I should have known they wouldn't give up as easily as they did before breakfast.

"Jack. Dr. Jeffery is ready to see you now." This is the first time I have ever seen a receptionist here, then again I haven't been here on a Saturday.

Amara was unnaturally silent on the way here and it seems she isn't going to change that now as she wheels me into the office.

"Jack. I assume you aren't here to talk about your homework assignment. Although I can definitely help you with it." His words are free of mocking, as if he knew I would be back. As if my outburst yesterday was just a part of the process.

"No. I am not here about my homework assignment." My answer is almost drowned out but the click of the door as Amara closes it behind her. One day I will be in this office and I won't be in this fucking wheelchair. "Jason and Talia said I should see you, after the panic attack I had this morning while I was sleeping."

His pen taps against the closed notebook in his lap, as if he is desperately fighting the urge to take notes. That small act makes me smile on the inside.

"Do you know what caused the panic attack?"

"My dream. It..." it just repeated what I said to a girl that did nothing wrong.

"Was triggering?" He supplies as if he didn't already know the answer. "Was it a person? Or a place Jack?"

A person. Most definitely a person. Fuck I need a drink. I am not ready to jump back into that dream.

"Jack."

"A person." I swallow the lump in the back of my throat.

"Who was it?" He asks, his pencil tapping again.

"My...." Girlfriend? But that doesn't seem right, as if the word isn't large enough to capture what she is to me. But friend definitely isn't the right word either. "Someone I know." I finish lamely.

"And what did this person do?" He asks, tilting his head to the side.

"Told me I was the reason she is dead. Told me that the last thing I said was the reason they killed themself." I practically choke on the words.

"When did they die?" He asks quietly, realizing this has nothing to do with my drinking. What I said has everything to do with my drinking problem, but the nightmare itself doesn't.

"I don't know. I don't know if she is even dead." I shake my head knowing I sound like a crazy person, "My brother told me she died a few days before I woke up."

But I do know. It's been eleven days since her supposed death. Alice made sure to tell me that much before she left yesterday. Maybe that's why I had the nightmare. Fuck. It's been eleven days since I last talked to her. I don't think I could live with myself if I was the reason she killed herself, or if the last words I spoke to her were a lie.

"Death is heavy to handle, especially when it comes to someone we love. Or care about."

"I just want to talk to her." I whisper hot tears running down the back of my throat.

"I know that phones are prohibited, but I think in this case it might be beneficial for you to have yours. When you get home find a spot and call her. Listen to her voicemail and say what you want. Or just listen to her voice." He looks at the table separating us. "I think writing a letter would also help. People as a whole find it easier to write words down rather than say them out loud. So write a letter Jack. Write a thousand letters if you have to. The pain doesn't ever fully go away but it does get easier with time. I know it sounds cliche, but it's the truth Jack. Everything takes time, and unfortunately you don't dictate the timeline."