I'm jolted out of sleep by a weight on my chest.
A figure was on top of me.
A glistening pistol in its hand.
I screamed, waking D up.
His eyes shot open.
He was sleep walking.
He glanced at my terrified face and his shiny gun. A hand flew up to cover his mouth as he tumbled backwards, dropping the gun.
He dashed out the door and into the living room.
I jumped up to chase after him.
When I entered the living area, I didn't see him. I did see a figure curled up on Katie's mattress. It was rocking and shaking.
"D?"
I touched his shoulder.
He flinched away from my touch and continued rocking.
"You're scaring me. What's wrong?"
He closed his eyes, they glistened with tears.
"I-I'm so sorry, Charlotte."
I sighed.
I didn't risk touching him again.
"Honey, you have to tell me what's wrong."
He remained silent.
He shook violently.
"I don't k-know. It was like a dream, but I woke up like..."
He shoved his face deeper into his knees as they pulled up to his chest.
He sobbed silently.
My mind raced.
Do something, Charlotte.
Be helpful, Charlotte.
I sighed.
"It wasn't your fault, D."
He laughs weakly then releases his hands from around his legs.
He stares at them.
"I could have killed you."
I sighed.
"It's okay we ca-"
"It's not okay!"
I swallow my words.
He puts his arms back around his legs.
"It's not okay. It will never be okay."
My eyes filled with tears.
I've never seem him so...broken.
He cries into his knees.
I can't think of anything to do, so I wrap a blanket around him and lay by his feet on the floor.
We stay that way until we both fall into sleep.
YOU ARE READING
New York- Where Dreams are Made
General FictionCharlotte Spencer is a small town girl. She dreams her entire life of going to New York. Her life in the town she grew up in isn't exactly all sunshine and rainbows. She struggles to make it out of the horrid place and fight her way to the top. S...
