Snowfall [ h.s ]

three

t h r e e

I sat up, my eyes screwed shut and my heart pounding against my ribs. From head to toe, my body was drenched in sweat and I could feel the blankets tangled tightly around my shaking ankles. My breathing was loud and uneven, my breaths coming out in short pants as if I'd just run a marathon instead of slept for eleven hours straight. My throat felt raw, and I knew I must have screamed but my memory was a foggy mess.

I kept my eyes closed, letting my hands fall to the mattress, where my fingers instinctively began fisting the material. I clamped my mouth shut, forcing myself to breathe through my nose again. The familiar light headed feeling followed by the dizziness was one I was accustomed to, but not one I enjoyed. While I eased my body into functioning normally, my mind was reeling. Images played and re-played through my head like painful reminders I couldn't get rid of.

          They were back.

          The nightmares were back.

I pulled my knees up to my chest, letting my head fall into them. The sun peaked through the blinds, a sliver of light hitting me square in the face. Although I was washed in sweat, my body was cold so the warmth felt nice against my skin. My t-shirt stuck to my body in uncomfortable places do to the moisture and I could practically feel my hair standing up in weird angles.

My mobile buzzed somewhere off to the right in the direction of my night table, but I paid it no mind - whoever it was could wait. Slowly but surely my breathing regulated and my body stopped shaking like one of those Mexican purse dogs. The plan was to fix the tangled mess that were my blankets, pull them over my head and go back to sleep, but I doubt that option was valid. Sleep seemed absolutely useless if I was just going to fall right back into the unfinished scenario I'd pulled myself out of.

           "Carter, sweetie, was that you?" My aunts voice called out from the kitchen, where I could hear all the pots and pans clashing together as she made an attempt at what must have been brunch.

That explains my sore throat. Well, this complicates thigns.

           "Yes it was," I answered, my voice rough and scratchy from sleep. I put a hand to my forehead, racking my brain for a decent excuse. "I .. erm .. I thought I saw something."

           "Are you alright? When you're ready you can come down for some breakfast." She finished, her words emphasized by the alluring aroma of fresh tea and toast with marmalade.

After several miuntes of finding the will to climb out of bed, I finally swung my legs over the edge, my toes curling away from the icy hardwood floor. Muttering profanities under my breath, I hoped around my room until I found my grey pair of joggers half hidden under my duvet. I made a mental note to make the bed before going out today- if I went out today. Kicking off my boy shorts, I pulled my joggers over my legs quickly before shrugging out of my soggy t-shirt. Throwing the discarded clothing in the hamper, I walked out of my room shutting the door behind me. 

When i stepped into the kitchen, the smell alone had my mouth watering. I shuffled past my aunt, who was standing at the stove with the kettle, and let myself drop into one of the kitchen chairs with a sigh.

          "Well good morning Sleepy." My aunt chirped, sending  me a warm smile from over her shoulder, reaching into the cupbert and pulling out two tea cups at the same time.  

I wrinkled my nose at her, squinting at the oven clock. Nine thirty in the morning? That had the be a new record for me. Usually, I wasn't up until well after eleven.