Ch.7 - Rude Awakenings

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I'm writing Chapter 20 at the moment and OH MY I'm so excited! So much Mr.Downey hehehe and drama. Gosh Im so excited for you guys to read it! Anyways, here's another chapter. Thanks for your amazing comments and just, you are each wonderful and deserve the world! Know that :)

Enjoy!
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She pushes, muttering whimpers. Gasping for air, and fighting off shivers running cold down her spine. Pushes again, and again against soft blankets. Pillows off the bed and wet cheeks. Thrashing out in front of her before she wakes up with a muffled shriek of panic. Sitting bolt up right, hands out in front of her in defence.

Quickly darting glances around the room, blue eyes dancing from corner to corner, deep seated concern etched into ever inch of muscle. Breathing laboured and panicked.

Doors closed. Windows closed. Rain. Rain. Rain. Seattle. Safe.

Still unsettled, the images still present in her mind. Too close to forget, to fresh to push into ignoring. Her hands drop from their frightful stance, going limp in her lap as she slouches.

A head of sweat rolling down from her forehead, down her rosy cheeks to mix with salty tears.

She flinches in thought, a different panic erupting, but it too soothes.

Molly. Cuddling. That was Friday. Today is Monday. It's five in the morning, or so her clock says.

She slumps back into her bed, body slick with sweat and hair a tousled rats nest upon her head.

She's exhausted, having not gotten any real rest although technically she did sleep. Yet she knows she won't be able to get another wink of it. Not after that nightmare.

The same dream that seems to haunt her over and over again. Endlessly playing with her mind.

The beach, the water, the creature, the room, the screaming, the pain. All of it. Repeated at the least once a week.

She lays still, focusing on her breathing, trying to calm her erratic system. Feels like she just ran a marathon more than anything. She must've gotten a charlie horse sometime during the night because damn her left legs ligaments are freaking sore.

Just breathe. Breathe. Recount the day before. Relax.

She would have had a sullen weekend if it weren't for her amazing six year old therapist, whom distracted her mind from all that was bustling.

Even though Charlotte had a window looking out over the large lush greenery of the backyard, she couldn't see through the thick of what can only be described as a small forrest at the back of their lot, and apparently Molly had discovered that beyond that was a river.

So off they went, twisting through the tall, thick pine trees, adventuring their area, until finally they reached the shore. It was maybe the size of three of her parents big black trucks in width. Seemingly a tame flow of water as it went by but who knows how deep it dropped off or how strong it really was.

Then dinner was at the counter. Mom was at work. Dad was on the phone with her Uncle Don chatting amicably about some concert tickets he'd scored. Another thing to know, recommended person to steer clear of, stay away from, was her uncle Don. She did not trust him and his creepy behaviour at all. He is rich and clingy. Something foggy about him, up uncertain and strange. Unnerving.

Uncle Don knows Charlotte doesn't like him yet it's apparently just another thing for him.

She'd kept her phone in her hands as she'd contemplated texting a few of her friends from home. Or reading the many texts she had still been hesitant to read. Worried about what would be said. Still trying to heal herself a bit more till she faced the messages. Ultimately she found herself scrolling through IMDB watching trailers for tv shows and movies.

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