Anna

16 - Nightmares

Content warning: Drug addiction

Ellie's head rested against the car door's interior as buildings and street signs flew towards her and disappeared in a hypnotic blur. Between the radio's soft music that faded into road noise and the car's gentle bouncing, her eyes drooped. She had not slept in three days.

The seatbelt that dug into her neck was supposed to keep her awake, but her trust was misplaced, so she curled her fingernails against her forearm and pressed down. As soon as she felt herself drifting off to the car's lull, she jerked, her eyelids flying open and falling again to their tired but awake position.

The whole staying awake thing was proving more and more difficult. But if she wanted to avoid the nightmares that haunted her sleep, she had to avoid it at all costs.

Warm sunlight beat through the windshield, warming her flushed cheeks. Her eyes involuntarily closed for a brief second, then snapped open again. The car was pulling onto an entrance ramp, and she would have to fight even harder to stay awake through increased speeds.

She yawned and wiggled upright to make herself more uncomfortable. But her head was so heavy that she couldn't help but lean it back against the seat.

With the highway coming at her full speed, she sank further and further into the seat. She was so, so tired.

Without realizing it, the sights and sounds of the highway faded, until they were replaced with the gentle creaking of floorboards.

Instead of the sunny Los Angeles highway in front of her, Ellie stood before the terribly familiar entrance to Apartment 2C, the indicating number and letter screwed into the door. Shadows concealed secrets within the apartment building's dark corridor that she did not wish to know. The only thing that saved her from being sucked through the door was the startling sound of her name.

"Ellie. We're here."

She stuttered awake, sucking in a frightened breath. Daylight filtered through a tree as the car stood still in the psychiatrist's familiar parking lot.

She blinked to make sure she was really there, then let out a sigh. Familiar was good. Familiar kept her safe, just like Tessa and Joe did. As long as everything was familiar, then she knew she was not in any danger.

Her heart skipped a beat when she glanced to the side and saw that the driver was not Joe or Tessa, then settled again after realizing it was just Chase. He stared back at her, either oblivious or purposely ignorant to her reaction.

Chase was not the ideal person to be with at the moment, but she did not have much of a choice. She tried to get out of the tri-weekly therapy sessions by claiming she was too tired, but Tessa was having none of her excuses. She almost had Joe right where she wanted him, though. He would have caved had Tessa not stepped in.

Ellie reached towards the center console for the hat she wore when out in public. It was not much of a disguise, and photographers had not bothered her in so long, but she still did not want to take that chance.

Shaky fingers grazed the hat's rim, but her decreased motor function from a lack of sleep caused the hat to slip towards Chase's feet.

She muttered an apology as Chase retrieved the hat. When she reached for it, a rare sadness washed over Chase's now downcast eyes. She realized with a shock that his gaze lingered on the ring of scars wrapped around her wrist and hand like permanent bracelets, along with new crescent moon-shaped additions from her nails.

For Chase, every one of her scars probably served as a stark reminder of what she endured for his daughter.

Ellie snapped her hand back and shoved the hat over her hair. Chase cleared his throat.