It Could Happen...Someday

The Memories That Haunt Me.

Macyn.

Let's make love, Whore.

Nobody else will have you but me, Whore.

Whore....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"OH MY GOD!"

I wake up out of a nightmare, sitting up quickly. Panic causes my heart to beat wildly.

A cold sweat covers my body.

I look around to find myself still in the comfort of my room with my hands gripping the sheets underneath me.

Goosebumps cover my arms, I can't stop shaking.

I thought these days were over.

I thought these dreams were over...

"Macyn?"

A quiet voice causes me to gasp.

"Hey, it's all right. It's just me."

Andrew's sillhouette carefully walks towards me, soothing my fear as he approaches.

I search for his eyes once his face is close enough to see.

"I..." my voice was shaky, "I had that dream again."

"Oh, Mace."

His whisper is so full of concern as he runs a hand down my arm to my own hands, which finally release their tight grasp on the sheet.

"That horrible, horrible dream! I-"

My emotions lose control as the sobs shake me violently.

I grab Drew's shirt and bury my face in his chest.

His deep voice tries to soothe me while running a hand through my hair.

It was a good thing my dad's room was downstairs, he would not be too happy if I had woke him up.

Andrew bends down and wraps my arms around his neck whispering, "Come here," as he scoops me up in his arms and carries me to his bed.

When he lays me down I glance at his alarm clock.

It's 3:30 a.m.

Once he finally situates himself to where he is laying on his side and holding me close to him, I whisper, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"I don't know why it happened again."

"You wanna talk about it?"

I wipe my eyes and sniffle, shrugging.

"It's kind of late..."

"If it will help you sleep I'll stay up and listen."

"I don't want you to be tired all day."

Truthfully, I didn't want to talk about it at all. That would be breaking my promise to myself.

"I wish you would tell me Macyn." I could hear the disappointment in his voice.

I felt bad that I didn't want to tell him even though I trusted him with everything.

Maybe if I tell him some of it, he'll go to sleep satisfied, I debate with myself.

So with a sigh I explain, "Well, the reason I had the dream in the first place is because..."

I look down. It was so much harder to say it to him out loud.

"Because?" he urges.

I swallow in attempt to push away my nerves.