Hiding Anna [rewritten]

Chapter Twenty-Five: Never Coming Back

He sacrificed his whole week for me.

Every day he took me out and every night he slept with me and woke up ready to chase away the nightmares. We went to the cinema again, the theatre, visited a castle – which he found fascinating – ice-skating and the aquarium. Honestly, I wasn't really interested in any place we went to and neither was he, but I needed to keep myself busy and distracted. The night terrors were enough at home.

After the night he'd cried on my shoulder any form of remotely sexual activity was discarded. He didn't even kiss my nape before I fall asleep like he usually did. I think that panic attack knocked some caution into him. It upset me a bit because I hated feeling like a fragile object, yet I knew he just didn't want me to get hurt.

Vomiting out my guts came as a consequence to this depression and usually followed a flashback or nightmare. I was used to it now. Waking up and sprinting to the bathroom before watching my dinner reappear was my daily routine. Not that I did it on purpose of course, because if I could make the incessant burning and constantly undecided stomach go away – I would.

I did insist to George that he should spend at least one or two days with his family since it was the Christmas holidays, but he seemed reluctant to leave me by myself. Apparently having over twenty family members in one house for even just three nights was enough for him.

With Anna coming down to have meals with us, I mostly stayed at George's house. Josephine's company was comforting and refreshing. Somehow, I had a feeling George had explained that I was slipping into depression since they were so close. She always talked to me about light-hearted things, asking me questions and telling me random stories which often quirked a smile.

It pleased George to see me smiling and occasionally laughing, but he didn't try his ticklish kisses to get that out of me again. I felt bad. It must be so difficult being around me, like walking through a field above mines that only take a slight pressure to go off.

The nightmares were getting worse by the night. Every time it was different and I hated it. Before, I only had flashbacks and, although it was horrible reliving that night four years ago, it wasn't twice as bad as now. Because before, I knew how the nightmare ended.

They had turned into hallucinations getting so strange and frightening I began to believe that maybe I was crazy. A few times I'd wake up in the middle of the night not knowing who or where I was. When this happened George would wake beside me without a second to spare and either coax me back to sleep or try and pull me out of the nightmare.

At least that's what he'd told me. I couldn't actually remember any of those times.

School came around quicker than I thought and I dreaded going back. I'd ignored all of my friends' messages along with several calls with voicemails asking if I was dead. I knew they were only joking but I felt dead inside.

Josh had killed a part of me on Christmas Eve – my confidence and my determination - and only George was able to seize it and bring that part of me back.

Somehow we'd caught up on all our school work. I think I was trying desperately hard to distract myself that even revision seemed more appealing than sinking into those panic attacks.

What I was more worried about in terms of school was Josh.

Would he be there? If I'd been him, I definitely would not take one step within ten miles of George. But then again, Josh was a cocky, confident guy that hated it when someone stopped him getting what he wanted. That's probably why he pursued me so violently. George didn't stop Josh from forcing himhhself on me, but he almost killed him afterwards. Yet, I wouldn't be surprised if he showed up come January.