I'm screaming. It's dark. the only thing I see is a pair of glowing eyes. They're purple, no green, now black, blink, green, blink, electric blue, blink, purple, blink, yellow.
It's not the eyes that scares me, is the emotion inside of them that I can't place.
Also... It's not anything I see, it's what I feel.
Claws, they're taking down my stomach, down my legs.
Breath, I feel it crawling down my neck, cold, yet burning at the same time.
Everything leaves a trail. The breath leaves me thinking that flames are licking my skin.
The claws, they leave something dripping, and tearing feeling. A thick liquid. Blood.
Now I hear something. A strong, intense, and familiar female voice.
Bella
Bella!
Bella!!!
BELLA!
WAKE UP!
_____
I wake up to Sadie shaking me. I feel something wet on my cheeks, and my throat is burning like it's stuffed with hot ash, suffocating. My body is damp, sweat, and my chest is moving rapidly.
I search Sadie's face, as her's search mine.
She's worried, and startled. Questions and worry fill her eyes to the brim.
"Did the nightmares st-start again?" She stammers, her face lined with worry.
Because I can't find the courage to speak, scarred by the dream that returned itself from years ago, I nod in reply.
We sit for a while, Sadie holding me in a ball shape and rocking me, whispering soothing things in my ear while occasional silent tears would fall down from my cheeks. Creating a dark spot on the grey sheets. I look at the time.
7:34 am. I take mental note to not let this go on for too long, not to worry Sadie or cause her to be tired.
At 7:38 I get up, and mutter that i'm going to shower to Sadie.
She sits up and makes eye contact with me. With a small smile she nods and I hear a faint okay.
When I get to Sadie's connected bathroom I strip off my clothes and notice a big, purple and navy-ish bruise on my left side, an inch below my breast.
I also check my palms, and sure enough my pinkie on my right hand had scratched my tanned skin.
It had been a habit, ever since I was 13, to grasp my own palm, press hard with my finger tips and clench my hand over and over again when I was scarred or stressed. This time it was only one finger, but the scars on my palms, faint but almost identical, show nail marks all about 1 centimeter long. my nails had broken skin 3 times in my life.
The first being the night that had started this habit, the night that I had locked away in my heart, deep deep down and never want to know again.
The second being when I was followed by a car on my bike from school one day freshman year, which turns out it was my old neighbors aunt who came to pick her up that day for a shopping trip.
The third being last night, though only one nail drew blood.
All other times that I had been scarred or anxious or stressed and I had began scratching out of habit, it has only brought a redness to my palms.
It wasn't like any type of self harm, only a way to focus my emotions and ADHD.
Still deep in thought I begin staring at my reflection in Sadie's clean bathroom mirror.
Why me? I ask myself.
It's not your fault. Says my voice of reason.
It could have happened to anyone.
What would have happened if Kayden hadn't shown up that time?
YOU ARE READING
The Story of Us
Romance*recently restarted and altered* It all started many... many years ago.... When a cute little wide eyed 4 year old girl decided that she loved a giggly and mischievous boy. 13 years later, the pair meets again in highschool, this time its not all...
