Just A Little Different

Chapter 18

I didn't sleep. By morning, I was exhausted, but I refused to let sleep take hold of me. I knew if I fell asleep, I'd be disappointed about waking up again, about having to come back to the reality that I was living. There was nothing wrong with my life. In fact, it was going great. The only worrying thing was the fear that had engulfed my mind. I didn't want to wake up being afraid; afraid of abandonment, afraid of hurting Ben, of the hurt feeling that had brought an angry fire to my heart. Exhaustion could distract me from these feelings for a while, right?

I heard Ma open the door, then the drawers of my dresser. She must've done some laundry, I assumed. She walked back out without a word, and I guessed she must have also thought I was sleeping. I didn't hear the door close, though. I turned to see that she had left it open. I knew she was worried about me and wanted to keep an eye and an ear open, but I didn't want to feel like I was being watched over like a child. I pulled the blanket over my head. There is no way I'm getting up today.

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I snuck a peek inside of Ian's room. How is he still sleeping? I wondered. It's almost noon. He can't sleep his Sunday away, can he? I sighed and returned to mom in the kitchen. She was getting some papers together before heading to work. "Are you sure you have to work today? It's Sunday, for crying out loud!"

She glanced at me sympathetically, slipping the papers into her purse, then slung it over her shoulder. "You'll be fine. Go wake up Ian and tell him to get his lazy butt out of bed." Her tone was light, and she kissed my cheek quickly before running out the door. "Love you!"

"Love you too," I replied as the door closed. She's right. I should probably go wake him up. I walked quietly to his room. Mom had left his door open to check on him in the morning, and I had assumed he was sick, but then she told me about their conversation from the previous evening. She was afraid he might try something dangerous, and neither of us wanted that. I strolled over to his bed and pulled the blanket from over his head. I was surprised to see his eyes open, bloodshot and glazed over from tiredness. He seemed to be struggling to keep them open, and i figured he had a nightmare that ended with a sleepless night. "You okay?" I whispered in his ear. He looked at me, and in his eyes I saw so many emotions, I couldn't decipher one from the other. I can imagine he'd be emotional, looking that tired.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He cleared his throat before continuing. "It's been a rough night. I have a headache now and I'm really dizzy."

"Well, that's what happens when you're tired," I told him. "Your mind tries to mess with you. Did you have a bad dream?" He shook his head and turned back to the wall. "Well then, what is it?"

"I don't want to sleep," he whined. "I'm afraid to wake up. I don't want to have to go through a rollercoaster of emotions to know what life is like."

"Ian, we all have to go through that. We have our bad moments, sometimes lasting much longer than others. You cannot let your fear dictate you. Try to get some sleep, alright?"

He yawned. "I can't."

"You're too tired to be awake right now, Ian. You won't be able to function properly if you don't sleep. You look exhausted." I ran my fingers through his hair. "Please try to sleep."

I could feel his muscles slowly starting to relax. "I don't want to," he mumbled. I didn't respond, I simply laid down next to him, one arm around him, and continued gently playing at the knots his hair. Every so often, I would lean over him to see if he was sleeping. He fought it for a while, but I could tell he was losing the battle. I stayed there with him until I realized his breathing had evened out and he was completely relaxed. Then I left the room as silently as I could and closed the door behind me. Sleep tight, Ian.

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I was playing Minecraft while I waited for Ian to wake up. It had only been four hours and I was expecting a few more. I jumped and nearly dropped my laptop off the side of my desk when I heard a blood curdling scream from downstairs, followed by Ian calling my name. I realized he was running when his voice started rapidly growing closer. I got up out of my chair and approached the door. Ian ran right into me and his wild, panicked blue eyes met my startled green ones as I fell backwards and hit the floor on my back. Pain shot up my spine. Well, that was unpleasant. I got back up to my feet and held Ian's head in my hands so his eyes met mine. His breathing was quick and he seemed to be as panicky as his eyes betrayed. "Ian, what happened?" I asked sternly. It was the only way to keep my tone steady.

He was shaking like a puppy in the snow and surprise slowly crept it's way into his gaze. "Ben...y-you were...I-I s-saw you..." His hands found mine and he pulled them from his face and held them tightly in his own, as if he needed something to grasp onto to pull himself back to reality. He took a deep, shaky breath and looked around before turning back to me. "B-Ben..."

I pulled him into a tight hug. He seemed to relax a little, but he was still shaking. "Ian, it's okay. I'm right here." His panic had me scared at first. I thought someone might've tried to break in or something. "Did you have a bad dream?" I knew he probably did, but I wanted to know how he saw it. His reaction told me that it was all too real for him.

"I don't...I don't know." Now that the panic had subsided, I could feel his tears soaking into my shirt. "One minute, you were with me...but then..." He couldn't bring himself to finish. For a few minutes, we just stood in that spot, gently swaying back and forth as I murmured softly in his ear, rubbing his back, doing whatever I could to calm him. By the end of it all, he was much less frantic.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked. He shook his head and pulled away.

"I...I don't want to think about it anymore." He rubbed his eyes. "I can't go back to sleep now. I need to be able to sleep later so I can wake up for school." I felt bad for him. A sleepless night, a traumatic dream that left him broken and in need of a friend, fear consuming him; it must have been so hard for him. "What?" He looked at me questioningly, and I realized I was staring.

I looked at the floor. "Sorry," I muttered.