You Are What You Love Not Who Loves You

Lost and Lonely

I jolted upright in bed, unable to catch my breath. I looked around frantically, my heart practically beating out of chest. I rested my hand on my chest, trying to control my breathing, while reaching over to the nightstand with my other hand. I grabbed my glasses and posisionted them on the bridge of my nose. I then glanced over at the clock.

3:17am.

Great. I thought to myself. I have nightmares quite often nowadays which really sucks because I have school. And when I wake up in the middle of the night, unable to fall back asleep, I have a very crappy day. More so than normal.

After I had somewhat calmed myself and slowed my breathing to a steady pace, I turned my lamp on.

I felt very alone and frightened, even though my older brother, Pete, was right across the hall in his room.

We lived together. Just the two of us. He had always planned on moving out when he turned 18. I was 7 at the time, and I can remember crying and begging him not to leave. I guess that's cause he was the only one who could calm me down and make me feel better.

He had to get out of that house though. And although it made me sad, I understood why.

Our parents were constantly arguing. And when I say constantly, I mean it. There was never any peace in that house. Always yelling, screaming, and occasionally things being thrown out of anger.

During these fights that my parents had, I would always hide in Pete's room with him. He would always reassure me, telling me it would all be okay someday.

I guess that's why it upset me when he left so much. Even though he was still in our small hometown, it felt like he was a world away when he wasn't at home with me.

The day he finally moved out, he promised me that when I turned 15 I could move in with him. At the time, I didn't understand why I had to wait that long. But now I do. Although he loved me, he didn't want to get in trouble by trying to take me from my parents at such a young age. He did however, tell me that I could spend the night with him whenever I wanted. And I did.

Whenever things would get too much to handle at home, I would always go and stay a couple days with Pete. And he could also always manage to get me to school on time surprisingly.

Now I'm 16, and he's 25. And I've been living with Pete for about a year and a half. I moved in with him when I turned 15, just like he promised.

Its nice to finally live somewhere comfortably without worrying about chaos. I do however, still have the same anxiety I've had since I was a little girl. Now with depression added on, I'm kind of a mess. Pete tries to help me as much as he can, and I appreciate him for that.

After a few minutes of sitting and thinking about the dream I had just had, I decided to yell for Pete. I always make him come in my room when I have a nightmare because he can always make me feel better about it.

I cleared my throat a little and rubbed my eyes.

"P-Pete?" I half whispered, half shouted.

I heard him groan and move around under the covers across the hall.

He soon turned his lamp on and sat up, looking over at the clock.
In a matter of seconds, he was stumbling through my doorway, rubbing the sleepy out of his eyes.

"Yes?" he asked, sitting down on the edge of my bed.

"I.. I had another nightmare." I said, sniffling and looking up at him.

He sighed and pulled me into a hug.

"I'm sorry.." he said squeezing me a little. "What was it about this time?"

"The same as always.." I replied quietly.

I always have the same dream, never any different. In the dream, Pete moves away again. Except far away from me. And I'm left alone with no one in my life except my shitty parents.

After I wake up, he always reassures me, telling me that he'll never leave me. And that if he does move away for some reason, he'll always bring me with him.

He does this again, telling me everything will be okay in a soothing voice while rubbing my back.

After a few minutes, he looks down at me.

"Do you want me to stay with you until you fall back to sleep?" he asks.

He asks this question every night and yet, my answer is always the same. No.

The reason I tell him no, is because even though I would like for him to stay with me, I feel like I shouldn't be relying on him as much anymore. I'm 16 years old, I should be more mature, or independent.

Except, curled up next to your big brother at 3am because you had a bad dream, isn't exactly mature.

"No.. I'm okay." I sigh and pull away from him slowly. I crawl back up to my pillow and lay my head down. He stands up slowly and grabs the top of my blanket, pulling it over me gently. He tucks it around me, before telling me goodnight and leaving my room again.

I sigh and flip over on my side. I pull the covers up further and try to push the lingering thoughts of my dream, and anything else that's bothering me, out of my mind.

I slowly close my eyes and bury my face in my pillow, hoping to get more sleep before school.

In a matter of minutes, I'm finally falling back asleep again.

~ Author's Note ~

This chapter was more of a beginning chapter. I will be introducing Patrick to the story in the next chapter. I hope you guys enjoyed this one. I can't wait to start writing more. (:
- Autumn