Another night of broken sleep. Another morning she'd woken up feeling exhausted. The nightmares ever present. Each night, it was the same. She would find herself in that box again. She would kick, scream, and shout to no avail. She would feel the soil raining down on her as the box gave way and she would be buried alive. She would awaken shaking, sweating, and terrified. Her mind in a state of confusion and disorientation.
She had been sitting on the sofa for three hours that morning when Thomas rang at 8am. He wanted to see how she was. He inquired about the progress of her therapy and whether she had sorted out her medication. Her mouth was dry, and her mind was distracted, so she didn't speak much. Nikki's thoughts turned to Jack after the call ended. She was desperate for him to be there, to hold her, to assure her that everything would improve. They hadn't spoken since returning from Mexico three months earlier.
Taking her phone in her hand, she walked upstairs to the bathroom. After taking off the baggy grey t-shirt and floral shorts she had worn during her sleep, she used the loo and then proceeded to shower. Nikki's phone lit up while she was drying her hair. Jack! She thought and made a grab for it. Her excitement was cut short when she realised it was Clarissa who had sent her a message.
How are you doing? C x
Nikki considered her response carefully. She didn't want to be the recipient of other people's pity and sympathy, but she also didn't want to alienate anyone. She opted for something relatively simple and nonchalant.
I'm doing ok, thanks for asking 🙂 N x
She went into her bedroom and pulled on a pair of black leggings and her favourite aqua blue tie-dye sweatshirt. She then picked up her phone again. She needed him. Her finger tapped his name, and she held the phone to her ear. It rang out. She ended the call just as his answerphone message started. She rang him several more times but got the same result each time. This, she realised, was the very definition of madness. Sod this, she thought, I'm going to his flat, then he'll have to speak to me.
Around twenty minutes later, she was stood outside his front door. She psyched herself up and pressed the buzzer. The intercom crackled.
"Who is it?" said the familiar Irish drawl.
"Nikki" she said nervously. There was a pause.
"What do you want?" he asked gruffly.
"Jack, I... I'm scared" she stammered, "I need my best friend, I just want to talk". She swallowed audibly. There was a buzz and the door clicked open. She entered the building and headed up to Jack's flat on the second floor. Jack was waiting at the door when she got to the landing. He looked at her without emotion. His coldness made her feel small and unwanted.
"This was a bad idea" she said sharply before making a move back towards the stairs.
"Nikki", his Irish accent was very strong. She turned and looked at him.
"What?" she hissed.
"Don't go" he said quietly. Nikki took a deep breath and walked past him into his flat. It was fairly industrial with exposed pipes and concrete walls. The living space was open plan with the bedroom and bathroom accessible through a door to the right-hand side of the kitchen. Nikki stood, somewhat awkwardly, in the middle of space.
"You can sit down" said Jack gruffly. He pointed to the sofa. Nikki perched on the edge of it and removed her jacket.
"Tea?" he asked. Nikki nodded. Jack made two mugs of tea and placed them on the coffee table. He sat at the other end of the sofa.
