Repair Me (Completed)

TWO ~ The Late Hours

~Now~

The late hours. Or if you please, the early hours. It really didn't matter, because this was when you should've been asleep. Not wandering your house's empty halls, running your fingers along the walls and picking up dust. Not opening doors to the basement and examining your parents collection of liquors. Not staring through your windows at his house. At his room.

My fingers found their way into my hair, trying to run them through my braid, but stopped as soon as I pulled past my shoulders. I hastily pulled out the hair tie, tossing it across the room. I'm pretty sure it landed somewhere in the bathroom. I was just glad my fingers could run through my hair without any barriers. A strange comfort of mine, and yet a fear all the same.

I saw him in my dream last night. He was talking to me as if he was still there. But he's not, he's dead, somewhere. . .

But what if he's not?

I sunk to my knees on the hard floor and pulled them to my chest as the dark swirled with the cold. My senses seemed to blur together, loosing the ability to tell unreal from real.

How did I get in the bathroom? I don't remember walking into the bathroom.

My hands raised to my head, clamping over my ears. My head hung down, not wanting to look out the doorway, incase I wasn't alone.

What if he's still out there? Planning to come find me? What if he kills me for telling my sister?

I sat on the floor with my knees huddled to my chest and my fingers digging into my scalp. A burning feeling settled in my throat. I felt like something was coming; someone was about to hurt me. I leaned into the corner of the wall as voices seemed to waft around me. I opened my eyes for almost a second, and no one was there. It was almost as scary as someone being there could be. If there was no one there, why did I still feel like I wasn't alone?

Beads of sweat stuck to my forehead. I couldn't focus on anything, not even myself. Was I crying? Screaming? I couldn't tell. It was all too loud, and silent at the same time. The insanity was unbearable. I didn't know what was really happening, and I could very well get hurt without even knowing. Without even remembering.

I felt like I was about to pass out, maybe vomit. Either way, my stomach twisted itself in knots. My nails felt like razors in my skin, but I couldn't move them, I couldn't move. I was paralyzed with this feeling.

Another voice called to me and I turned away, burrowing my head into my eyes. I think I yelled at it to go away, or maybe did nothing. Arms wrapped around me, stroking my hair and saying "It's okay, you're okay."

He would say that to me before facing the real world. Trying to shut me up. Before I realized it wasn't a one-time thing. I was stupid enough to believe him everytime, too. No matter how many times he pit his hands on me, I truly thought that he was sorry for it.

"Get off of me!" I whimpered, hopelessly trying to scramble away from them. They didn't budge. The arms felt like fire, trapping me in this state of panic with no where to run.

"Catherine, Catherine, I'm here,"

I opened my eyes again and didn't see the grey ones I was so afraid of. Instead, I only saw soft brown ones.

"Cat, It's Nathan, I'm here, I'm here." He said, holding me close to his chest. My cheeks were wet, but my throat wasn't that sore.

"He's still alive! He's going to find me, and hurt me! Maybe even kill me! He's not really dead, I saw him. He's mad at me!" I wailed, my breath leaving my lungs with every word, becoming even harder to get back after each sob.