The Everlark Family: Book 1

39 - Devilish

Peeta shot up frantically, elbowing my side in alarm. "Katniss, what time is it?"
My heavy eyelids cracked open to see his face in full panic. I furrowed my eyebrows. "Are you--"
"What time is it?"
I turned my head to catch a glimpse of the clock on my nightstand. It displayed the time in blue boxy numbers reading: 3:03 AM. 
"A little past three, Peeta. Why?" I groggily palmed my eye. "What's wrong?"
Peeta let out an audibly frustrated sigh. "I don't know. . . I had this dream, it was like--" Suddenly his neck twitched involuntarily. He begun to croak out incoherent words. 

"Peeta. . . You--"
"Shh."  Suddenly he buried  his hands in his palms, squeezing his eyes closed tightly.
Oh, no. My heart began to pick up pace. I instinctively knew he was fighting the onset of a nasty flashback. "Stay with me, Peeta. C'mon, you can fight it."
Peeta's body started trembling, his breathing intensified.
"Peeta, it's just a flashback--you can fight it!" My voice began to elevate in fear. I grabbed both of his wrists, trying hard to restrain him, though he is stronger than I, and quickly yanked away from my cold grip. 

Things began to take a turn for the worst once Peeta started to yell unintelligible statements. At that point I knew his mind was already captured by the manifesting flashback.  The violence of it became evident after his hand slapped my face. I cried out, both in shock and pain; my left cheek burned with an uncomfortable stinging sensation. "Peeta!" I forced him to face me, unafraid of the consequences, snatching onto his rock-hard wrists.  
"Sto--" But before I could finish my affirmation, Peeta converted into some kind of monster, hurdling my body against the wall.

I yelped out in pain, feeling my tailbone develop the beginning of a painful bruise. My eyes caught onto his, and for a single second, I could see the hurt that swam in his eyes. But they devilishly returned back to that dark torment of blue. 
"I'm a monster! Dammit--get the hell away from me!" Peeta screamed at me, spit flying like a dog with rabies. He locked himself in the closet just then; his powerful yells were now slightly muffled by the wooden interior. 
I sank down, trying to fight the set of wracking sobs that pounded inside, fighting to be freed. But my crying came to a halt for the sake of Rye who wandered into our room.

My eyes widened in shock. "Rye?! R--what--"
His watering eyes were mixed with concern and horror. His attention was quickly caught towards the closet where Peeta was thrashing around in. 
"I-is Dad in there?"
Before he could focus on anymore of the monstrosity, I pushed myself up, instantly full of agony, and directed Rye out of our bedroom. I held his face into my shirt, running my hands delicately over his curls.  
"What's wrong with Dad, Mommy?" Rye sniffled, staring into my teary eyes. 

"H--"
Suddenly another little voice approached us in the hallway. It was Willow. "Mommy. . . I'm scared for him."
I closed my eyes shut. Damn you, Peeta. "Daddy is--well uh--he had a bad dream. . ."
Despite my attempt at comforting, the kids were still frightened out of their minds, scared as hell, and yet I was too. Peeta's hollering was still audibly heard in the distance. 
Rye was still shaken. "I've had bad dreams before, but I never act like that."
I gently wiped at his tears. "It's different for everyone, Hun. He's just having a hard time right now. . . I'm so sorry, you two."
 
"Will he be okay?" Willow asked solemnly.
I nodded slightly, breaking down into tears. "I don't know. I hope." 
That only worsened their cries, and I pulled myself together, gathering up false confidence inside. "He's going to be okay. Okay?" I struggled to keep my voice from quivering. "I promise." 
From what I could hear, Peeta had stopped yelling. So I took that opportunity to put them back to bed; praying that they would not be scarred from what they had heard and seen.

Now it was time to check on Peeta. I limped closer to the closet door, hearing a faint cry, and sucked in an uneasy breath. "P-Peeta. . . You should unlock--"
"No. I'll hurt you." Peeta replied after several silent seconds.
"Peeta. . ."
"I already hurt you enough. I abused you. I abused my wife."
"I'm fine--" I was far from fine. 
"No you're not!" Peeta replied forcefully. "Just, get some sleep."

I found no logical reason to argue with him. So, I cautiously slid into bed, trying to discard the pain that shot through my tailbone. 
The bed remained cold, and continued to for the rest of the night.