Hard To Believe

Chapter Sixteen

It was a rough night. The bed the guys had kindly set up for Rosemary was, indeed, comfortable and cozy. However, she couldn't find comfort, sleeping in that bed. She was used to sleeping beside Russell, who used to envelope her into his warm arms and snuggle with her until she fell into slumbers. Or sleeping in the apartment she and Carol used to live in, with Carol sleeping on the bed next to hers. She wasn't used to hearing four lads she'd known for a couple weeks breathing deeply, steadily, and evenly as they drift further and further into the imagery of odd dreams.

Although, at some point at around three in the morning, Rosemary had fallen asleep. But not for too long, much to her relief. She had dreamt about drowning. She was sitting in a little canoe, staring down at the lovely ocean blue, allowing the soothing sight and feeling to wash over her senses and relax her. Until suddenly, a large wave came through and crashed down on the canoe, making it topple over and sending Rosemary into the water.

She thrashed around in the ocean, screaming and crying out pleas for help. But no one was around. She was alone. A large amount of salt water entered her mouth, making her choke and sputter. The intense taste of the salt made her eyes water, blurring up her vision. Unable to stay up any longer, she sunk. Deeper and deeper into the ocean. Her ears became tight with pressure, so tight it made her ears bleed. She struggled to swim back up, but to no avail. The ocean seemed bottomless.

Seconds later, her world went dark.

Then she woke up with a start.

And she wasn't able to sleep for the rest of the night. Not that she wanted to. When she awoke, she almost couldn't breathe, like she was actually inhaling the ocean's overly salted water.

However, when the sun had risen, it was not kind to her. The sun blinded her, leaving her unable to see for several seconds. Once her vision cleared up, she kicked her blankets off. The warmth the duvets had given her left her quickly, and she shivered through the cold morning air. Sitting up wasn't an easy job either. As she got up, she realized she had a pounding headache from lack of sleep and from crying the night before. God, I'm a pitiful mess.

She looked it too. One glance in the mirror made her cringe. Red, puffy, dried up green eyes. Tangled up, messy, bushy black hair. Dried, cracked, chapped pink lips. Thin traces of dried tear stains on her pale cheeks. She certainly wasn't the prettiest sight in the morning. I knew there was a reason why I never was a morning person.

With a heavy sigh, Rosemary tiptoed out of the room and closed the door slowly and carefully, cautious as to not wake the boys up. She headed down the short flight of stairs. Entering the living room, she realized she wasn't the first to wake up.

"Morning, sunshine," Micky smiled.

"Why're you up so early?" Rosemary inquired.

Micky tutted. "Well, that's one way to greet a guy," he pouted.

Rosemary let out a silent, croaky laugh. "Sorry. Hi, Micky."

"Hey," Micky said sheepishly. "And I tend to wake up a little early sometimes, in case you were gonna ask again." He bit his lip, resisting to stretch it into the grin that made Rosemary's heart turn to mush. He just had the cutest smile. "Actually, I was gonna go for a quick swim just now."

"Right now?" Rosemary said incredulously. "Micky, it's seven-thirty."

"I know," Micky shrugged. "But why shouldn't I? I'm usually the first one up, and I get bored. But seeing as you wake up pretty early too..."

"I don't usually wake up this early, actually," Rosemary said uncomfortably. "I, uh... I couldn't sleep."

"Oh," Micky said silently. Rosemary inhaled sharply. She had forgotten that Mike told him and Peter what had happened with her and Russell.