A Ghost of a Chance

I'll Keep the Sadness Away

                 

Carmilla turns a page in her book. It's been a couple hours since Laura went to sleep and between the quiet and the open curtains, it's a wonderfully peaceful night.

So why can't I focus on the damn book?

Her hands still tingle from where she held Laura, and her chest still feels the warmth of them pressed together. Laura had left YouTube playing waltz music on, but Carmilla couldn't be bothered to turn it off. Not yet, anyway.

There's a soft sound, so faint Carmilla's not even sure she heard it at first, but it quickly grows louder and she jumps to her feet. Laura.

She quickly makes her way to the bedroom and peers through the door, cracked open. Laura is starting to thrash in her bed, letting out pained groans of discomfort.

Carmilla slowly enters the room. What is this? Has Mother found some way to reach her in her sleep?

"Hey. Hey, wake up," she tries softly.

"N-No," Laura moans, whimpers escaping with urgency. "Don't... Hurt..."

Hurt? Carmilla steps closer. She could try reaching out for Laura, but the chances are that they'll be anywhere near the same vibration is too slim. "It's just a dream, please wake up," she begs.

"Please... Let me—let me go," Laura says, a sob breaking through.

Carmilla can't take it anymore. Against all odds, she reaches out and—

"Laura! Wake up! Laura!" Carmilla's hand makes contact with Laura's shoulder and she grabs it, gently shaking her.

Laura's eyes snap open and she looks around widely, tears flowing down her face. She slowly focuses on Carmilla's face.  "C-Carm?" She looks at Carmilla's hand on her shoulder and Carmilla quickly withdraws it.

"It... It was just a dream?" Carmilla tries gently.

Laura sniffles and nods slowly. "Yeah. Just a dream," she repeats, her voice raspy.

Carmilla chews her lip, eyes scanning to assess Laura's state. "Do... you need to talk about it?"

Laura wipes her cheeks and sniffles again. "Not really." She lets out a shaky breath. "But when I was a kid, my therapist always told me if I have one of these dreams, I shouldn't bottle it in."

Carmilla scoffs and gives her a playful smirk. "I'm having trouble believing you'd bottle anything in."

Laura lets out a watery laugh. "True. And it's fine, that was when I was a kid. I think I'm fine now."

Carmilla shrugs. "If you need to talk about it... I'm not going anywhere."

Laura gives her a half smile and shimmies over on the bed before patting a spot for Carmilla to sit, which she does. She takes a deep breath. "Remember how before I said my mom got killed in a mugging?"

Carmilla nods.

"Well, she didn't die right away, so my dad and I got the call at home. We rushed to the hospital and actually got there right after the ambulance. But we weren't allowed to go to her and I tried to push past the doctors and nurses, but they wouldn't let me get to her. And then she died in the operating room."

Carmilla reaches out a hand and lets it hover before putting it over Laura's. It doesn't phase through, and Carmilla gives Laura's hand a squeeze. Laura gives her a squeeze back.

"Anyway, for weeks after, I had these horrible nightmares. And it got so bad I wasn't sleeping at all, or I would fall off the bed and hurt myself. My dad was in mourning, too, so he didn't know what to do and he sent me to a therapist. Turned out my dreams were a manifestation of guilt I didn't know I was feeling."