Hearts Of Gold h.s

Chapter 34

E

Nightmares.

I've struggled with them for the better half of my life.

It's rare that I dream. It's always been something that frustrated me so much. If I did have a good dream, it was gone from my memory the second I opened my eyes.

But the nightmares linger.

I can remember certain very specific nightmares I had at the ripe age of 8, but I can't remember any of my dreams.

Nightmares of my father cause a cold sweat to run over my body. They cause my chest to heave and my body to shoot up from the deep sleep I was in.

I went a while without the consistent nightmares. I was able to sleep. I wasn't scared to close my eyes.

But, tonight I wasn't lucky.

My luck ran out.

As soon as my body shot up from my sleep, I was quick to detangle myself from the sheets and walk to the kitchen. The bathroom is too small and I couldn't just lay there in the bed suffocated by the sheets and Harry's body.

Astera is curled up at the bottom the bed, sleeping peacefully as I walk quickly out of the room being careful not to disturb neither her or Harry.

I can feel the discomfort running through my body as I think about the nightmare.

All I see are flashes of my dad coming into my room. I can hear the sound of his belt clear as day in my ears. I can smell his cologne and the pungent Whiskey in his breath.

The nightmares are too real. They always feel too real. Everytime I have a nightmare with him in it, it's as if I'm being taken back to when I was a kid. I can feel the same terror.

"He can't hurt you anymore" I mumble to myself, reaching for a glass to fill with water.

He can't physically hurt me anymore, but obviously he can still be the root to all of the mental distress I go through.

With shaky hands and uneven breaths, I take sips of the ice cold water. I'm trying to just shock my body.

I feel the cold liquid run down my throat and I just try to focus on that.

My breathing is ragged, my chest is tight, and I feel so much discomfort in my whole body.

It's almost like my mind is restless to the point that my body can't calm down, but all I want to do is collapse; let the floor consume me.

I pinch my eyes shut and regret it immediately when all I see is my nightmare playing behind my eyes.

My bedroom door is opening, my dad walking in. I see it all.

It's as if 22 year old me is standing in the corner of my childhood bedroom watching it all happen.

Helplessly watching it happen.

"Get out of my head" I try to keep my voice down as I practically double over grabbing onto the sides of my head.

My elbows are resting on the countertop and my head is being held in my hands. My fingers tangle into my slightly knotted hair from my sleep.

It feels like my head is spinning. My conscious is screaming. Screaming in pain; in pure agony.

My mom's screams ring through my head. The pain in her scream.

She wasn't always there to try and stop the abuse, but when she was, her screams were ear piercing. They still sting my heart and electrify my soul. But it's not the type of electricity I have recently been feeling. It's not the exhilarating and adrenaline filled electricity.