Country Girl's Dream ©

Chapter 157

Dreams are an incredible thing. Filled with imaginary creations and figures composed and designed by the human mind which is also an incredible thing, but that is a completely different topic.

 Sometimes dreams can be based off of the experiences of your day, while others can be controlled by what your mind has been controlled by recently. My mind must have given me a break from the constant nightmares that never ceased to haunt me at night. Nightmares of the one thing that never ceased to control my mind. Tonight was first night that I had actually gotten real sleep. By ‘real sleep’ I mean, my mind getting a break and actually resting and rejuvenating my energy for the upcoming day.

 But I hadn’t realized that these dreams hadn’t just disappeared. They had simply relocated, captivated the mind of another victim.

It was soft. But enough to awake me from my slumber.

My eyes fluttered open, drifting towards the pink clock on my nightstand. 2:23 A.M. It was definitely too early for anyone to be awake. A few moments later, the same noise fills the room, but it was a bit louder this time. My bare legs slide out from under the pink floral sheets that covered the full sized mattress I was accompanying. My eyes barely managed to stay open until the sound rings through the silent house again, making my eyes widen. It was a human noise. It was Harry. I jump out of bed, fearing the absolute worst as I slide on the white fleece robe that Anne had provided in the overly pink guest bedroom I was vacating. My hand slowly twists the crystal knob on the door, prying it open carefully to avoid any sounds that could follow.

My mind plays back to a few hours ago when Harry had assisted me to my bedroom after I had fallen asleep in the kitchen. The warmness of his arms. The kiss he placed to my head just before he informed me that he would be right across the hallway. My train of thoughts is confirmed when the same noise sounds again. Almost like a cry for help.

My heart begins to pound against my ribcage as I quickly slip across the hall, my feet lightly padding the floor. I knock quietly on the door that I assumed was Harry’s. I do not get an answer, so I hope for the best and open the door before quickly shutting it behind me.

The shuffling of bed sheets and heavy breaths fills the room, confirming that this was his room. I lightly call Harry’s name into the darkness of the bedroom, but I get no response. I push a loose strand of hair that had fallen out of my low pony tail back behind my ears, taking a big gulp of air before blindly feeling my way across the room. My hands flail in front of me, attempting to find the softness of the mattress, but instead, my left hand comes in contact a long, hard surface. My hand glides along the smooth object before coming into contact with an abstract object protruding from the flat area. A lamp. My delicate fingers quickly scramble for the string before pulling it down.

A large amount of light is given off across the room instantly. It is quickly revealed to me that I was going the opposite way of Harry. When I see the twisted pained expression that was currently painted across his face, my feet can’t help but carry me to him. I sit on the edge of the bed, carefully, bringing my hand to meet his hairline. He was covered in a thin layer of sweat. I whisper his name, tracing my fingers through his hair as he continued to live out the nightmare that I had been confronted with for the past week.

When he doesn’t wake up and the thrashing continues, I assert more force, wrapping my other arm around his firm bicep, shaking him slightly to wake him up. I call his name a bit louder this time- as loud as I dare in a house full of sleeping people. His fists were clenched, and I attempt to rest them by lacing mine through.  I breathe a sigh of relief as he begins to stir in his sleep, his eyes slamming open to immediately find mine. A staggering puff of air escapes his lips as his sits up in bed, running his hands through his hair before dropping his head into his hands. My heart breaks for him as I scoot my body forward, taking the back of his neck in my palm, and bringing his forehead to my shoulder. He stays quiet, abnormally quiet. He stays strong, doesn’t shed a single tear for what felt like hours of sitting there silently.