𝐒𝐢𝐝𝐍𝐚𝐚𝐳 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬

IUS: 2

The room was enveloped in the quiet of the night, the soft hum of the ceiling fan the only sound breaking the stillness. But my mind was far from peaceful. The nightmare came again, as it had every night since that horrible evening a week ago.

I was back on that highway, the sun setting in the distance, casting long shadows across the road. The memory played out in vivid detail: the sound of the gunshot, the man falling at my feet, blood pooling around him. I could still see the panic in his eyes, feel the cold terror that had gripped my heart as I stood frozen, unable to move or scream.

I woke up with a start, gasping for air, my throat dry and my body drenched in sweat. My hands were shaking as I reached for the glass of water on my bedside table. The cool liquid soothed my parched throat, but it did nothing to calm the fear that had taken root deep inside me.

Laying back down, I closed my eyes and tried to will myself back to sleep, but the images from the nightmare kept replaying in my mind. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that man's bloody legs, the blood pool on the road and the man who had saved me.

With a frustrated sigh, I sat up in bed, hugging my knees to my chest. My room was a sanctuary of calm, decorated in soft pastels with fairy lights draped around the window, but tonight, it felt like a prison.

"It's been a week," I whispered to myself, my voice trembling. "A week, and I still can't get that image out of my head."

The fear was overwhelming. Every night, the same nightmare, the same terror. It was like a shadow that I couldn't escape. During the day, I could almost forget, but at night, it all came rushing back.

I thought about the man who had saved me. His face was etched into my memory just as clearly as the rest of that night. He had been calm, composed, and utterly terrifying with a gun in his hand. He had shot that man without hesitation.

I was grateful to him for saving my life, of course, but I couldn't help but wonder about him. Who was he? Why did he have a gun? My mind was filled with questions, and I couldn't shake the feeling that he was involved in something illegal. He had to be, right? Normal citizens didn't carry guns, they didn't shoot people in the street.

The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became. Maybe he was part of some gang, or worse, part of the drug trade. The thought sent a shiver down my spine. I hugged my knees tighter, trying to ward off the fear.

Despite my assumptions, a part of me was drawn to him. There was something about the way he had held me, the way he had spoken to me that night. It was confusing, this mix of fear and fascination.

I looked at the clock. It was past midnight, and I knew sleep wouldn't come easily. I got out of bed and walked to the window, looking out at the quiet street below. The city seemed so peaceful at night, a stark contrast to the chaos that had erupted on that highway.