These Nightmares of Her (A 1D/NH story) COMING SOON

Chapter 1

It was cold. I’m not sure how long I can hold on in these conditions. I am shivering incessantly, with my thin arms, swathed in layers of clothing, wrapped around my torso. Outside, the wind is howling, whipping the trees around my shelter in a crazy whirlwind. I remember the one time I managed to pluck up the courage to peek outside, I was nearly blinded by flying branches attacking my face. It was unfortunate, really, the things that I have had to resort to – but I really didn’t have any choice in the matter, now did I? The last and only time I – or anyone – had managed to escape, things had not turned out well. I’m shivering again, but this time, it’s not from the cold. It is from the cold memories of things – and people – of the past.

Her strawberry blonde hair, spread out in a shining halo around her head. Her face set evenly, a blank expression, beautiful even in that state. Her simple uniform was still immaculately pressed, each gray plaid pleat in it’s perfect place. Her beauty was, in my eyes at least, unsurpassed by any other. Her eyes alone were capable of searching the ones I look through now, looking deeply into my soul, knowing everything that I was thinking, analyzing my every move. She alone was the one who lived on in my dreams through all of these years. Yes, my dreams, where we meet in Paradise, are my only spot of happiness now.

But it is also she who haunts my nightmares. Her hair, her beautiful hair, was infused with a layer of thick blood. It was spreading slowly in a pool around her battered body. And the worst part? The part of this that is the reason I am here now? Her eyes, stormy, fierce ocean blue looking into mine, were full of emotion for the first time since we had met, even as her facial features maintained their forcedly calm serenity. That emotion was fear.

The shivering resumed, and I close my eyes resignedly, steeling myself for a future of listening to the whistling of the wind.

\*~*/

I wake with a start. My entire body is drenched with a cold sweat, and the blankets from the back of my couch are twisted up in my legs, only partially covering the rest of my body. I try to control my breathing, not wanting to wake up the other occupants of the room. Sitting up, I grimace from the soreness in my back that can only come from sleeping on the floor, realizing that my face is stiff and my eyes are puffy from the tears that had been streaming down my face as I slept. As I am leaning back on my elbows, I move to sit up completely, reaching to grab the fuzzy fleece trapping my legs. Ouch! I whimper quietly as I crack the crown of my head on the sharp edge of the coffee table. My mouth opens and closes silently a few times, wanting desperately to make a sound that I don’t dare to utter, my dominant left hand clutching the affected area on my skull as my eyes fill with tears for the umpteenth time since I fell asleep. When I move again after the five minutes of eternity spent bating my breath in the darkness, I can’t help the pained moan that escapes me.

Once the dizziness subsides, I finish untangling myself and lay back down. Now that I could think properly, I had a few hours before my friends wake up to think about the dream – no, the nightmare – that I had woken from. This is, after all, certainly not the first time that my subconscious mind has delivered this vision to me. Why, in this strange world, am I trapped in the cold for months? Where is that place? And who is the girl that keeps me awake for hours, that I know nothing about, that is dead? Or soon to be dead?

I look over at my mates, sleeping soundly still, undisturbed by my turbulent thoughts, and chuckled. Most of them could sleep through anything. Normally, I could as well, especially if we had been out late at some wild, prestigious party, as we had the night before. It really was weird, especially for me, to wake up so early, even because of such a disturbing sleep-scare. Whatever.

Still tired from the long night, I curled up on my side (as well as I could between the table and the couch) and tried to make my mind utterly blank. Desolate emptiness, like a frozen desert.