Short Stories

"I'm Scared."

“I’m Scared.”

“I’M tired, I’m cold, and I am scared! Don’t you understand that? Do you even know what type of situation we’re in?!” she yelled, anger and fatigue coursing through her. She then suddenly dropped to her knees; tears leaking down her face, the pain too much to bear.

            The next thing she knew she was screaming, but it didn’t help, in fact nothing helped. She thought by screaming it would untie that forever-clenching knot in her stomach or somehow make the weight of her fear and anger and pain just disappear. It didn’t.

            With pain thudding inside her skull, and hot tears running down her face, it made everything even worse.

            She couldn’t process anything. Not what anyone was saying, not that she was being picked up and being shaken, or anything. She was too far-gone. And the scary thing was that she didn’t know how far.

            The last thing she remembered was someone softly chanting: “Don’t be scared. It’s going to be okay, it’s going to be okay.”

 *

            The first thing she felt was the cold hard floor. She was exhausted and weak. She felt a hand stroking her hair and another palm holding one of her hands, their thumb skimming her knuckles. Someone was mumbling lyrics to a forgotten song under his breath. She had an idea of who it was.

            Processing all these things in a matter of seconds she jolted, causing the person who was comforting her to tense. Her eyes snapped open and looked up, their eyes met, hers already filled to the brim with tears. She shut them tightly, causing the tears to stain her lashes and trickle down her face. Her breathing became hitched and shaky as she turned her body. “God, I’m so sorry Al,” she wept, covering her face with her free hand.

            “It’s not your fault,” he whispered, resuming the action of brushing the strands of hair out away from her face. She shook her head, and used her arm to prop herself up. She felt him grab her elbow and pulled her up in a sitting position.

            With slight hesitation she leaned into his chest, shaking even more as he stroked one of her hands with his thumb. She sobbed, pressing her head against his collarbone.           

              He held her securely in his arms, still murmuring the forgotten song. “I’m scared.” She mumbled, her voice barely audible. He shook his head, “Don’t be scared.” She suddenly clutched his hand, still trembling. He pulled away, trying to get a look at her face. She kept her head down, her mind a million miles away.

            Begging silently for a reaction, anything to know that she was still with him, and to comfort her his free hand softly caressed her cheek and slipped all the way down to the nape of her neck. She didn’t notice, too tangled in her thoughts. Their eyes met again, hers filled with fear and sadness. His filled with compassion and worry.

            “You’re staying, right?” she croaked, always having this remote fear that he would leave her to fend for herself. It was a ridiculous thought, but it didn’t make it any less true. 

            He nodded, “Yes,” he replied, “I’m staying right here.” She nodded in response, curling up against him. “Thank you.”