Charles
I can feel the beads of sweat against my sticky skin as I listen to the sound of my own screaming echoing in my ears. Pain shoots through my leg as if those barbed speers still pierce through my skin and bone, causing a sensation that burns so vividly it keeps me paralysed in my sleep. I can almost feel Ruby's hands doing everything they can to stem the bleeding.
The pain radiates in a way that it moves downwards to my other war wounds and Ruby's face morphs into Badrai's and he's holding his gun to my head waiting for me to bleed out. I cry out but no one comes, the tone of my crying changes with my dream and I'm not seeing Badrai anymore. I see Elvis being launched from that building. I see his charred skin and blood shot, lifeless eyes and the blood trickling from his ear.
I wake at last to an empty cottage. Sweating and gasping for air and my leg hurts as if I really just have been through it all again for real. I have to walk to make sure I'm really okay because I don't know what's real and what's not after dreams like that.
I enjoy the pain that shoots through me as my feet pound the pavement and then the sand and I run so far that I've almost run the entire length of the beach before I realise that I'm actually in fucking agony.
I take a slow stroll back and the cold sea breeze whips at my skin. The morning sun isn't yet warm enough. Shorts were a bad call.
I'm pleased when I spot her. Her glossy black locks blow around her shoulders in the breeze and she's beautiful but you can tell she doesn't realise that. It's quite refreshing.
There is something about this bench because more often than not she's there when I pass. Usually deep in thought and pensive looking, it means something to her. I wonder what?
I didn't make it to the coffee shop that day. Grief and anger and stress consumed me and I found myself stuck in that hole again. Not even the thought of seeing her face could pull me through. She'd never know it but she's done so much for me since I got here. I could barely walk when I arrived, found myself relying heavily on various walking aids and lacked stamina. But I started walking to that shop everyday after I saw her for the first time. I know that sounds creepy but she was just so beautiful and I was drawn to her.
And so I got stronger and fitter and ditched the crutches because I wanted her to see me as me. Not what I had become. Walking turned into running and apart from chronic fucking pain I'm nearly there. Because of her.
I'm not sure if it's her or me or both who is awkward but she's clocked me. She lifts her hand and gives me a shy wave and an even shyer smile and it actually appears she may be happy to see me.
"And I thought I was the only one silly enough to be out at this time" she smirks.
I park myself heavily on the bench next to her, ignoring the negative effect it seems to have. After all she engaged into conversation with me first.
"I couldn't sleep so I thought I'd get my run over with early"
Her eyes fall to my heavily scarred leg, exposed by my shorts
"Jeez, no wonder your always limping. There was me thinking it was a sprained ankle or something. Looks like you need to give the running a rest mate "
"If only it we're as simply as a sprain" I laugh
"And you? Why are you out so early?"
She shrugs her shoulders. "Couldn't sleep either, came here to think"
"And here's me interrupting you again. I'll leave you to it"
"No. Stay, it's okay"
I smile because she beautiful and this game of cat and mouse we've inadvertently got ourselves into is interesting to say the least. I don't know what it means or why we're doing it, but I enjoy it regardless.
