This might be a new story after I finish Upside Down.
Intro:
I can't sleep. I can't do anything right now. It has hit me. Hard. Everything I've worked so hard to keep hidden and locked up has come up again.
The memories are resurfacing. The ones I blocked away as a child. They have returned in the form of dreams. Nightmares of bloody fists, bruised bodies, broken glass on the freshly-polished, hard-wood floor. Beaten families and scared children. Scared, helpless children who can do nothing but lay in their warm beds, in their batman-themed sheets and being rocked to sleep by sobbing siblings.
The terrors have resurfaced and there is nothing I can do about it. The main reason isn't as much if a reason as a person. And he's standing across the table from me. Wearing a warm coat and looking me in the eye.
That's when the large cup of hot, chamomile tea in my hands is launched into his scarred face and shatters.
If only, he hadn't come back. If only, he didn't exist. If only, I hadn't faced the nightmares I had faced as a child.