Saving Sawyer | ✓

Chapter 23: Pt. 1 | You Have A Pretty Magical Girlfriend

Chapter 23: Pt. 1 | You Have A Pretty Magical Girlfriend

"At times the world can seem an unfriendly and sinister place. But believe us when we say that there is much more good in it than bad. All you have to do is look hard enough. And what might seem to be a series of unfortunate events may, in fact, be the first steps of a journey.” — Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events

The sound of my own screaming wakes me up on Tuesday morning as I thrash around in my bed. Images from that night invade my brain for the first time in weeks, maybe months. I feel myself break out in a cold sweat and my heart starts thumping so hard and fast in my chest that I’m actually afraid that it might burst open.

Still actively engaged in my nightmare, I kick my covers off of me and raise my arms up, bracing them above me. In my nightmare, I’m back there, in Flynn’s bedroom at the frat house, trying to get him off of me. He’s just so much stronger than I am though, so it’s nearly impossible. I don’t think that you could call it a nightmare though, because it isn’t something that my imagination concocted up, it’s exactly what happened a tad bit over a year ago.

“NO! FLYNN, STOP!” I shout as loudly as my lungs will allow as Flynn starts tearing at my dress.

Now, I know that I’m not actually back in this situation and in the back of my mind I know that I’m fine. I know that this isn’t happening to me again and that this is just an incredibly vivid memory that I tried my best to repress so long ago. In case you haven’t noticed though (which, I think, you’d have to be blind to have not noticed), I struggle majorly with anxiety. That being said, it’s kind of hard for me to get it through to my mind I am not back in that place, hence the freaking out.

“Sawyer!” Beckett’s voice suddenly exclaims and I feel him violently shaking me. “Sawyer, wake up!” He demands, still roughly shaking my shoulder.

My eyes snap open then and take a few seconds to adjust to the bright lighting in my bedroom—I guess Beckett turned the light one when he came in. He’s sitting on the edge of my bed, looking down at me with a worried expression etched across his face.

I sit up in my bed then and tears start streaming down my face as I try to get my breathing back under control. I wrap my arms around my knees and pull them to my chest, rocking back and forth, trying to recover from my brief but still all around awful panic attack just now.

“Are you okay?” Beckett wonders, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me in for a somewhat comforting hug.

“No,” I mumble through the tears, shaking my head at him. “No, I’m not—I thought I was done feeling like this.”

“Feeling like what?” Beckett queries, letting me rest my head on his shoulder as I continue to cry.

“Feeling like everything that happened that night was my fault,” I mutter with a shaky sigh then.

“Sawyer, how many times am I going to have to tell you it wasn’t your fault before you start believing it?” He asks. “If anything, it was my fault—I’m your big brother, I should have protected you.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Beck,” I tell him through the tears. I wonder then what Graham’s doing—I bet he’s asleep, but I really wish he was here, because he always knows how to make me feel better. 

“Well, it damn sure wasn’t your fault,” He replies. A few seconds later, my bedroom door swings open, and I hear someone walk in, but I’m too busy crying my heart out to look and see who it is.

“What happened?” My mom’s voice asks with a sense of urgency then. “Is everything alright?” She wonders, obviously confused as to what’s going on. Her bedroom is downstairs though, so it’s understandable, her confusion and why she’s just getting up here. Beckett’s bedroom and my bedroom share a wall though, so I’m sure he could hear me screaming through the wall fairly well.