Twisted

Chapter 7- Dreams (48 days to go)

Laughing, I pulled myself to my feet. Midway through our girly conversation, the doorbel had rung, so I left Violetta on the sofa and made my way to the door.

Even before opening the door I could smell him. He smelt as vile as he looked.

His haircut was uneven and shaggy, accompanied by a matching beard. His eyes were drowned in sorrow, his sorrow was drowned in liqour.

He stumbled into the entrance like any drunk and slurred at me the words I've always dreaded.

"Give her to me. She's my daughter."

I cried no multiple times but he stumbled drunkenly into the house, ignoring my screams. Immediatley, he grabbed Violetta's arm and she instinctivley pushed him off.

Yet she couldn't escape his grasp so easily after her grabbed her again violently. She was fragile and his brutal ways would easily overpower her.

I had this dream before though, I knew how it ended. It ended with him dragging Violetta out the door and me losing her or even worse, it ended with them walking out together. By choice.

Yet before he could drag her out, like I'd imagined many times before, a figure came from behind me.

"Get your hands off her."

It was German, the good German. The gardener, who'd insisted I call him Nathan so I could feel better. The one person who'd only ever thought about me.

"Or what?" slurred my sister's husband, the broken soul, who broke my family.

"Or this."

In a swoop of his fist, German was on the floor and Nathan stood above him. Violetta let out a gasp as Nathan quickly dragged German to the door.

"You don't deserve to be the dirt on her shoe. Get out."

I held my breath as the door was slammed. He was gone. For once in this re-occuring nightmare, I had not lost.

Because of him.

He quickly came over from the door and looked me over, but before he could utter a word I threw my arms around his neck.

"Thank you."

When I pulled back, he looked in my eyes and his deep brown made me melt.

That was when reality returned.

After waking up from my dream, I felt surprisingly dissapointed, I was awoken by a crash downstairs the moment I had imagined Nathan holding me.

Why was I dissapointed though?

Did I really want to know what I would have dreamed next?

I had an inkling that I already knew and because of it, I ached.

All I wanted was to fall back asleep and see what would happen next.

To see if my prediction, the inkling of thought, was correct.

To see if I actually wanted that one thought that had occured to me.

To see if I would kiss Nathan, or if he'd kiss me.

To see if this dream, held any truth about reality.