Nightmare

Are You Really...?

"What's that?" I sniffle, pointing to his right arm.

"Um... nothing," he says, but his eyes widen in a mixture of a hundred different emotions when I pull up my sleeve on the same arm and reveal a cluster of words identical to the sentences on his.

"Are..." Rowan whispers. "Are you really...?" His sentence trails off, a hanging question in the air between us, but I understand perfectly.

"I guess so," I say quietly. I don't know what to feel right now. Should I feel joy? That I won't have to live alone forever? That I have a purpose to live once this madness is all over?

Or should I feel fear? That whoever I care about is in constant danger during this war?

Guilt? My ankle can weigh me down so much sometimes that I don't think I'll be able to stand up again, even if I was doing it the day before. I'll just be a burden to anyone that makes the mistake of caring about me.

And me? Will my heart be broken by him? Will I end up breaking his, even if on accident?

And as much as I'd like to get these awful memories of my horrific past out of me, I can't tell them to anyone.

"I need to think about this," I mumble softly. "I'm sorry."

"I need to think on this, too. Or maybe we should just have that date and see how it goes," Rowan gives me a crooked grin, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

I give him a halfhearted smile that doesn't reach mine, either. "Maybe."

"Why are you out here?" He asks me.

I remember the suffocating feeling that took hold of me in the darkness and shiver. "I can't sleep in the dark."

"There's an empty room down the hallway," Rowans offers. "Do you want it?"

I give him a small nod. "Thank you."

He stands up and offers me his hand to get up. I take it gratefully and get up.

But I should have known I wouldn't have the strength to stand up after what happened in that room, and I fall back and start leaning on the wall, but then slide down back onto the ground.

He offers me a hand again. "Sorry," I say, taking it.

"Don't be sorry. It's not your fault."

I grasp his hand, and he helps me up, but this time he doesn't let go.

"Do you need help getting to the other room?" Rowan asks me.

I bite my lip. "How far away is it?"

"Six doors away."

"I can try." I say, and tentatively he lets go. I take another step, and another, but I need the crutch to be able to really walk. The leg I got stabbed in still hurts.

I place a hand on the wall next to me to steady myself, and I manage to get past one door before I fall. "Ow," I whisper.

"Okay, put this arm," Rowan instructs, "around my neck, and lean on me."

"Thank you," I say quietly again and he nods, and we stay silent until he drops me off at my room.