The R Word (On Hold)

Chapter 31 - Nightmares

There was an almighty crash of thunder and Jane woke with a cry; tangled up in her sheets and sweating. Breathing heavily, she reached blindly for the bedside lamp; utterly desperate for light and reassurance. It flickered on and she winced; squinting as the light pounced on her and darted into every darkened corner. She quickly scanned the room; her hands gripping the duvet, her heart hammering against her chest.

There was nothing, no one, in her room. It was just another bad dream. Releasing another long breath, Jane fell back onto her pillow; her hands over her face, trying to calm herself down. No matter where she went, they always seemed to find her, the nightmares of dark forests and him. How could she be the happiest she'd been in weeks, how could she be in a paradise like this and still have nightmares? She was so tired earlier, too exhausted to even dream. Why did she continue to underestimate their ability to taunt her?

The sky rumbled overheard, distracting Jane from her thoughts. She gazed nervously at the dark, high ceiling; the sound fading in and out for several minutes. A storm? She thought. Where the hell did that come from? The day had been lovely and so bright. There hadn't been the slightest inkling to bad weather all day.

"But that's just how Mother Nature works," she mumbled with a small smile. She heard the pitter patter of raindrops on the roof, on the windows and relaxed if for only for a moment, until her dream returned to her mind. There was no point in trying to forget. She always remembered.

Always.

She'd found herself, once more, in the meadow where it had had happened. It was dark, just as it always was, cold and wet; as if it had just rained. That clean, refreshing smell hung in the air. It was almost calming, but Jane knew better. She knew what was to come. And no sooner had she thought of it, a shadow came rushing towards her; tearing through the mess of branches and bushes. She didn't think twice. She ran as fast as she could; never minding where she was going, just as long as it was away from the shadow. She ran for ages it seemed, never losing or gaining ground. The land stretched out before her, never ending. The shadow was always there. It had no face, no voice, it was just a mass of black nothingness.

That was what terrified Jane the most. She knew who the shadow ought to have been, it was obvious, so why didn't it just take his form? At least then she would have known who she was running from. But the fact that it did not, scared her even more. The tragic truth was that it could have been anyone. After all, anyone was capable of doing that unthinkable.

Jane shook her head and willed the thought away. She knew if she thought about it anymore, the more worried and sad she would become. And, having spent the weekend and all her time with Alfie - blissfully alone - she could not and would not spoil it. It was just a dream. Nothing and no one could harm her in a dream. She sighed, wishing it were true in reality. Then with a roll of the eyes, she packed up her pillows behind her, to support her head and back, and gazed long and hard into the darkness outside. Like many things, the lake had taken on a completely new face and personality. Where it was once a joy to behold and to embrace, it was now unforgiving and malicious; something to cower and run away from.

"Oh for god sake's Jane, stop it!" she hissed, folding her legs inwards; creating a mountain in her duvet.

The lake wasn't dangerous. She'd had the best time in its depths, with Alfie by her side. She'd smiled and laughed and rejoiced in the freedom it brought her. She'd forgotten every trouble and pain she'd ever felt. She felt only relief and love; love for Alfie, love for nature. She even loved herself for a moment. Some people may say that's selfish and vain of her, but it was the truth. She'd long looked in the mirror and hated what she saw. She saw a broken girl; scarred not only on surface but so far deep in mind and soul and she hated it. She hated what she saw. And, somehow, being in the salty waters, she saw herself for who she really was. Alfie said she was perfect and in that moment of time, she'd believed it. No, the lake wasn't dangerous. The dark was. It was dangerous and manipulative.

Forget it Jane, urged her subconscious. Think of something else. Do something else.

Jane glanced over at her bedside clock and groaned. Half past four. How could it be? How could she have only slept five hours? It felt only a moment ago that Alfie had carried her inside and tucked her into bed. She smiled, remembering the long, lingering kiss he gave her on her lips, before slipping away.

Maybe I should go to him, she thought, needing his presence and body to comfort her. He always made her feel better. But she had only think of her father's face and thought better of the idea. She didn't want Alfie to get in trouble. Again and because of her. He and her father were only now on speaking terms again. She couldn't risk that. Okay. I won't go. But what should I do?

She was wide awake and desperate for activity; her body unwilling to return to the land of dreams. Nightmares, a voice growled in her mind. Land of nightmares. She needed to do something. She had to get her mind off her dream, of him. Her parents and Alfie were asleep. She couldn't trouble them with her childish fantasies.

Her gaze went, unwillingly, to her suitcase that rested near the wardrobe. It was open and in a mess; clothes pushed to either side and balled up. Her mother wasn't going to be too impressed by that. All those creases. Jane chuckled, throwing back her duvet and walking over to it. It was a small and silly thing, but it would keep her busy she reasoned. So, she sat down and started to fold her clothes.

She found the routine calming and comforting. She forced her mind to focus on the task and nothing else. There was no room for dark thoughts. They'd had their time. Four whole months of it. She was done with it. She wanted to remember the fun she and Alfie, even their parents had had since arriving here. She wanted to remember their relaxed faces, their weightless shoulders and shining eyes. This is what she had needed for so long; a chance to get away, to think everything through, to forget and be a normal girl again.

But like so many things, her clarity was not to last. Jane was pulling out a pair of jeans when it fell out. The book she was supposed to read for Debbie. It had landed title face up. The cover was a grim pink with a girl trapped in a box within a box, and another. She looked so scared and timid. Jane felt a lump form in her throat as she picked up; trying to ignore how her hands were trembling. She loved books and the written word. She'd pick up books and stroke their covers and spines, and breathe in that new book smell and feel completely at ease. She would feel complete.

But this one. Speak. It was a story too much like her own. She didn't want to read and feel what she already knew to be true. She didn't want to relive her own ordeal through another's. It was just too much. It was just too soon.

Before she knew it, her eyes glazed over. The world blurred and darkened round the edges. Fatigue was chasing her down like hunters would a vixen. With the book still in hand, Jane crept back into bed. She snuggled down, and held it in front of her; the light shimmering over the laminated cover.

I only have to read hundred pages, she reminded herself. Hundred pages and I don't have to read anymore. I don't need to find out the ending. I really don't.

As if you could ever leave a book unfinished, laughed her subconscious; throwing back her head and shrilling with amusement.

Jane looked at the clock. Five seventeen. She knew she should get some sleep. She had to walk the forest trail with her family tomorrow. She'd need the energy. She'd need the clear head. The book, however, seemed to have other plans. It was whispering to her, coaxing her to a small peck. It sounded crazy but it made sense to Jane. If people didn't listen, how would a book ever get read?

"One chapter and that's it," she said, determined, and opening the book.