The Bus Stop

02: Night Terrors

  I woke, clutching at my pillow which was laying beside me. Groaning as I turned to my side, I took hold of my phone which laid on the nightstand beside me and I had to blink a couple of times to get accustomed to the change in brightness.

  Three sixteen in the morning.

  Why was I awake? That was the questing buzzing through my head, but it didn't take long until I heard the familiar sound and it all came back to me. The loud sobbing of the boy next door. The muffled sound of his screams against his pillow and the constant movement of his feet hitting the mattress as he moved around in his nightmare.

  It sucked that he had night terrors, it really did but the selfish part of me wished he would just shut up and deal with it. No one else woke every early morning to the dreadful sound of his cries and pleads. My parents and his mom were used to it and more often then not, they slept through it.

  But I didn't. Six years of it and I still felt like I was drowning with him. Maybe it was the fact that I slept the closest to his bedroom or maybe it was more than that. Maybe it was the fact that ever since the first night he woke up screaming, I wanted nothing more but to walk over there and hold him tight. He's my best friend and I can't just sleep through his distress, not even if I popped fifty million sleeping pills into my mouth or was in an induced coma. I can't just block him out, it's not like that.

  I dropped my phone back onto my nightstand and slowly rubbed my eyes with the palm of my hands. I turned my attention to outside the window and into his, where Max moved about in discomfort as he cried out for his dad. It was sickening to think he was all alone in that room, mourning for someone who was more than likely dead. It physically hurt to not comfort him and I was tired of letting his sobs be the last thing I heard before I managed to drift off to sleep again.

  I could just listen to loud music - place my headphones on and blast it loud enough to block out the screams - but I've never been able to sleep with music playing. That's why I can't tell my parents that Max keeps me awake at night, because I half expect both of them to just tell me to block it out. Except, it doesn't matter if I can hear his sobs or not because I'll always know he's not okay and that's no better. It would be unnerving, not knowing when he's finally settled down.

  When it was clear I wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon, I stood up from my bed, stifled a yawn and decided to make myself a warm cup of tea. I promptly opened my bedroom door, only to stop dead in my tracks.

  A riotous scream broke through my bedroom and echoed against the light shaded walls, resounding as I stumbled a few steps backwards. I placed my hands on my ears and waited for his scream to fade. Not long after twenty seconds later, the scream had died and I slowly moved my hands away from my ears. It sounded pained and desperate, as if Max was fighting for his life inside his own simulation.

  I shook my had and turned towards my closet. There was no way I was leaving him alone for any longer. I threw my red hoodie over my gray singlet and opened my window. The cool air from the fall night hit me like an icy wind and I had to bite my tongue to stop my teeth from chattering. There weren't many stars out tonight, just an inky blackness that filled the once blue sky and a silver moon that sat hidden behind a streetlight.

  Max's window was half open. He'd been sleeping with it like that since the night terrors started, he told me one day that the cool air helped him to calm him down when he woke. Our windows were at least ten feet apart and if I wanted to make it to his room, I'd have to jump and hope I made it in once piece. Except, there wasn't really another option. I didn't have a key to the Elliot's house and I was in no position to break down the front door and hope Jackie understood. The only plausible way was through the window and I was determined to make it through.