How Paris Changed My Life

9

The clock struck for the fourth time, its rhythmic chimes echoing through the stillness of the night. I was clad in jogging bottoms and James's blue sweater, an outfit that felt unusually comforting amidst the chaos of my dreams. I found myself in a forest, the trees casting eerie shadows in the dim light. My breathing was rapid, each inhale and exhale punctuated by the sense of urgency that pervaded my surroundings. There was a disconcerting presence behind me, its exact nature eluding me but its menace palpable.

"Go away! What do you want from me?" I called out, my voice strained and breathless, but the answer came only in the form of silence. I glanced over my shoulder, driven by a mix of fear and curiosity to see who, or what, was pursuing me. The moment I turned, my foot caught on a protruding tree stump. The world tilted, and I was propelled headfirst into the rough bark of a tree. The impact was jarring, and as consciousness slipped away, I could still hear the faint rustling of leaves and footsteps drawing nearer, but I was powerless to move or open my eyes.

"Who am..." The voice of the approaching figure trailed off, abruptly cut short by a sudden, sharp thud. It was as if someone had intervened, delivering a decisive blow.

A wave of relief washed over me, though my situation remained precarious.

"Everything okay? Noah?! Do you hear me?" The voice was familiar and reassuring, it was James. His concern was evident in his tone. "Of course, you can't hear me; you're unconscious," he added, a note of frustration and worry intertwined in his words.

I felt the warmth of his hands beneath my back and legs as he carefully lifted me. The sensation of being held so tenderly and securely made me feel safe, even in my disoriented state. Just as I began to find solace in his embrace, a loud shot rang out, jolting me awake.

I sat up abruptly, my heart racing. The dim light of the room and the sight of James sleeping peacefully beside me were a stark contrast to the vivid horrors of my nightmare. I let out a relieved breath, realizing it had been nothing more than a nightmare.

James stirred, his eyes fluttering open as he noticed my agitation. "Why are you sitting up? It's only two o'clock in the morning," he said, his voice thick with sleep. When he saw the tears streaming down my face, his expression shifted to one of concern. "Noah, what's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?"

I nodded, my voice trembling as I recounted the details of my dream. I described how I had felt pursued, how I had tripped and fallen, and the moment when I had heard that terrifying shot. James listened intently, his face etched with worry.

"So you heard the shot and thought I was hit?" he asked, his concern deepening.

"Fortunately not," I replied after a pause, trying to calm my racing heart. "I wouldn't have survived that." I offered a shaky smile, attempting to reassure him. The tension in his face seemed to ease slightly.

"Come on, let's go back to sleep. We can talk more about it if you want to," he suggested gently.

"Okay, sleep already," I said, though I felt a lingering restlessness. "I'm going to the bathroom first."

James nodded and settled back into the bed as I slipped out of the room and made my way to the bathroom. I closed the door behind me and stood before the sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror. The bags under my eyes were dark and pronounced, evidence of the sleepless night and the emotional toll of the nightmare. My eyes were red from crying, and I felt a pang of shame at the state I was in.

I proceeded to the toilet, my mind still racing. I pressed my finger against my throat, attempting to induce vomiting, a troubling habit I had developed recently due to a loss of appetite. I had been struggling with eating for a while now, but I hadn't found the courage to discuss it with James. I felt ashamed and didn't want to burden him with my issues. After a few moments, I flushed the toilet and made my way back to James's room.