STRANGER THINGS

Nightmare

Eleven tossed and turned in her makeshift bed, tears flooding from her closed eyes. She’d had nightmares a million times over, but none like this, where Mike was the one hurting her where it should have been her father. The shift in roles felt worse than she had ever imagined. Mike was slapping her, kicking her, telling her that he didn’t want her. Somewhere, deep down, she knew it was a dream. She knew that Mike could never treat her like that, but it didn’t stop her from crying out when he hurt her again.
“No. Please, Mike,” she begged. “Please stop!”
“El.” His voice sounded closer now and more urgent, and he was looking down at her with wide eyes as though he had realised what it was he had done. Eleven was covered in her own blood, her skin littered with bruises. “El, wake up.”
He was shaking her, and then she was back. She had been woken, thank God, and Mike was leaning over with eyes that appeared just as worried as they had in the dream. He looked out of breath, as though he had ran too quickly to get to her. She cowered away from him with tear-stained cheeks, her whole body shaking.
“It was just a dream,” he whispered, his arms stretched out in front of him cautiously. “It wasn’t real.”
She relaxed ever so slightly, wiping her eyes and looking down at her body, which was no longer marked with blood or bruises.
“You were shouting my name,” he said hesitantly. “Why? What happened, El?”
“I…” She wasn’t quite sure what to say. How could she tell him that it had been he who had hurt her this time? How could she hurt him that way? But then, how could she lie to his face? “You were like my papa,” she said finally, her voice cracking.
“What do you mean? How could I be like him?” He didn’t understand; that was clear by the way he frowned, shuffling closer to her in the process.
“You hurt me.”
Hurt flashed across his features, and his eyes lowered guiltily, though Eleven knew it should have been her who was ashamed. She reached out for him, her hand finding his. It was clammy, but she didn’t mind, for hers was too. “It wasn’t real,” she said, repeating his earlier words.
“I would never hurt you. Never.”
“Promise?” she questioned, despite knowing that he was telling the truth. Still, it would comfort her to know that he would vow never to hurt her. Any promise Mike had ever made to her had been kept.
“Promise.” He crawled beside her, his back against the wall, and took her hand in his again. “Nobody will ever hurt you again, El. Not your papa, and especially not me. I swear, you’re safe here.”
She nodded and leant his head against his shoulder, glad when he wrapped his arm around her the way he had not quite been able to once before.
“You should try to get some more sleep,” he mumbled, his own fatigue clear in his hoarse voice.
“Okay,” she agreed and lay down again, already feeling more relaxed than she had. “Will you stay?”
He didn’t hesitate. He lay beside her silently, his body facing hers as he looked at her sadly. “You know, I would take all of your nightmares away if I could. I wish you didn’t have to have them. I wish there was something I could do.”
She allowed herself to smile, wishing that she could tell him that him being here was more than enough but not quite knowing how. “Thank you, Mike.”
“What are friends for?” he questioned softly, though both of them knew that perhaps they were a little bit more than friends. Still, it made her feel safe, and she buried her face in his chest to feel his warmth and listen to the sound of his heart beating.
Just before she fell asleep, he whispered, “I’m here.”