𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝑾𝒆 𝑫𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝑺𝒂𝒚

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨

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𝐀 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐞
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Wednesday, February 15th, 2023

A figure appears in the darkness. In the gleam of the moonlight I can just barely make out something sharp in its hold. A knife, maybe? Stepping further into the light, I can now see it clearly. See him clearly.

My feet hit the wooden floor boards and we were no longer separated by space. I reach out to touch him, my hands pressing firmly to his chest. He feels so very real. He gasps in pain, my hands now held low, covered in a red sticky substance, and the knife resting in my grip.

Looking to him again, he stands closer, blood dripping from...everywhere. Eyes. Nose. Mouth. Clothes drenched in red.

I drop the knife but never hear it hit the floor and I hold my hands to the laceration as he lays on the wooden planks. But no matter the pressure I apply the blood keeps gushing out between my fingers and oozing out from under my palms.

The room echoes with a bang. He's gone. The blood is gone. I'm kneeling in the middle of the floor, alone.

"Hey, I didn't know you were up- What are you doing?" My sights flick up from the floor to Wes, who has just come through the door. My heart frantically beats against my ribs as I vividly remember the vicious blood on my hands. I sit back on the heels of my feet, dropping my hands against my knees.

"Nothing." I sigh.

The nightmares have been consistent since the night Wes has come to stay with me. A reminder that you can never truly outrun your demons.

At least not as long as you're still breathing. No matter how far you go, no matter how much time passes, they'll never leave.

"Oh, well I went to the store and picked up some eggs, some bacon, some milk and," He shuffles through the paper bag trying to remember what exactly he bought. "-oh yeah a box of pancake mix." He looks down at me with a smile. "I thought maybe we could-"

"Yeah, maybe later." I cut him off needing no further explanation and move to my feet. "I'm gonna go take a shower." I leave him standing alone.

-

Standing under the shower head with eyes closed and mouth slightly ajar, the water rains down on me, gentle and warm, awakening my skin. My fingers fan out over the wall for support as I'm left alone with my thoughts.

My mind tends to race when I'm not writing. I suppose my mind races as I write too, but at least writing keeps me from thinking about my paranoia. My mind unconsciously avoids those thoughts of mistakes, shame, and guilt.

It's unclear the amount of time that has passed but from the feeling of the water turning cold I can assume it's been too long.

With my towel wrapped snug-tight around my body, I step out of the bathroom where I spot Wes waiting on the bed. His head hangs low with his elbows resting upon his knees and I watch for a moment as he nervously rubs his hands together.

His golden brown eyes rise to me and finally he notices I'm in the room. He's been thinking and it shows. What about, I have not the slightest clue. A serious expression painted on his features.