The Ones That Descend Into Misery

To Fall Apart

"It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart."
-Suzanne Collins

        The faint noise of the steady rise and fall of Spencer's breathing was one of Evie's favorite things to listen to. As of now, he was laying in bed next to her, turned on his stomach with his face buried into his pillow. One arm was rested on the pill under the bed, and the other was sprawled out far in the other direction, hanging off the edge of the bed. Evie smiled at the sight of him, looking over the top of the book she was reading. He had fallen asleep pretty quickly that night,  but it was almost a relief to Evs. As long as he was getting sleep, she was happy. 

        Evie rubbed her thumb lightly across Spencer's forehead. He moaned and shifted his sleep, stretching out the arm on his pillow, his hand brushing against her side. He didn't move anymore than that and just rested next to her, continuing inhaling and exhaling in a soft rhythm. Evelyn sighed happily while watching him, eventually turning her attention back to her book. 

        She read for a while, feeling her eyes starting to grow heavy. She yawned and arched her back to stretch, deciding to finish up the chapter and then head off to bed. When she rubbed her eyes to try and rid of fatigue and began reading again, Spencer stirred beside her. She turned her eyes from the words on the page to see him bury his face into his pillow further. Evie tilted her head and watched him, watching to see if he'd wake. He didn't, and instead just resumed his heavy breathing. 

        Turning back to her book, Evie heard him stir again. She glanced over to see his eyebrows pulled together in his sleep, his face looking pained. His hand was tightly gripping the material of the pillow and his breathing was beginning to change from slow and melodic to fast and panicked. 

        "Spence, baby..." she whispered, reaching over to run her fingers through his hair. He jumped at her touch, beginning to breathe even faster. Evie frowned and retracted her hand, putting her book down on the bed next her, not bothering to save her place. 

        "Spencer." she tried again, louder this time. She turned on her side to reach forward hesitantly, wondering if she should risk touching his shoulder. He was gently moaning now, his legs and arms beginning to thrash around him. Evie looked at him with frantic eyes, touching his shoulder anyway. He jumped away, but she continued to try and shake him awake from the nightmare that was plaguing him. 

        "Spencer!" she said loudly, leaning over him and shaking his shoulder. His eyes finally snapped open and he jerked away from her on the other side of the bed. His face was terrified, making Evie's chest tighten. His eyes darted around the room, looking for who knows what. His chest rose and fell heavily, and even from where Evie sat untouched by him, she could tell he was shaking. 

        "Spence?" she whispered lightly, reaching forward and putting a tentative hand on his knee. Spencer pulled away and cast his eyes downwards.                

        "What, I'm fine." he immediately said, obviously trying to act like nothing had happened. Evie sighed in disappointment, realizing they were going to go through the same routine again. He'd insist nothing was wrong, she'd try to suggest they look into treating him for PTSD and then he'd snap at her and she'd just let it go. Evie thought this was over. 

        "No. You're not." Evie said, getting up off the bed to walk around the other side  of the bed to where he was pushing himself up to sit on the edge. He avoided eye contact with her and played with his hands in his lap uncomfortably. 

        "Yeah. I am."

        "No. You're not."

        "You don't know what I feel, Evie." he said, a angry tone creeping up in voice. Evie sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, trying to keep her voice calm.