𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘺-𝘰𝘯𝘦

378 32 9
                                    

( t.w - nightmares , panic attacks , violence , slight gore , & gun use )


"debbie!" you scream, struggling against the rope bindings on your hands and ankles. you watch desperately as matteo places a gun to debbie's head. his back is turned to you as you scream, begging him to stop. debbie's eyes are glued to you as matteo pulls the trigger. you watch as her lifeless body collapses to the floor, blood pooling quickly against the concrete. you let out a bloodcurdling scream as matteo walks over to you, now putting the gun against your head.

"nighty, night," he whispers and pulls the trigger.


you shoot up from your bed, in a panic. your heart was beating out of your chest, your mouth was cotton-dry, you were drenched in sweat, and you couldn't catch your breath. yanking the covers off your body, you shakily plant your feet on the ground, trying to calm yourself down. you let your eyes flutter closed as you try to take a deep breath, but you are overwhelmed by panic. you decide to go downstairs and get some water to replenish your thirst.

you carefully walked down the stairs, clutching the handrails until your knuckles turned white. the house was a bit of a mess from the welcome party, with dishes and trash covering the majority of the surfaces. it smelt like the chinese takeout debbie had ordered.

the floorboards creaked from underneath you as you walked to the kitchen. it was an old house that made a lot of noise. you turn on the kitchen light, dimming it down, in hopes of not to disturb anyone. you grab a glass from the cabinet and begin to fill it up with water from the fridge. being awake and in the light was definitely calming your nerves.

"can't sleep?"

you let out a small yelp, dropping the glass on the floor. it shattered into a million little pieces and the cold water was splashed on your feet and pajama pants. you spin on your feet, facing the archway of the kitchen. "debbie," you breathe out.

"woah there, kiddo. are you alright?" debbie asks with a concerned tone. she rushes over to you helping you maneuver over the shards of glass.

you bite your lip and you nod. "i-i'm sorry about the glass," you nervously apologize, fiddling with your fingers.

"nonsense, it's just a glass. did it knick you anywhere?" she inquires, leading you over to the island chairs.

you shake your head, taking a seat. debbie takes the one next to you. "i don't think it did." you slowly lift your head over to debbie. "did i wake you up?"

debbie shakes her head. "no, i was awake already. i was having trouble sleeping and when i heard your door open..." she trails off. "i just got curious." debbie looks over to you, her eyes scanning your face. "why were you awake?"

"couldn't sleep either," you lie through your teeth. there was no reason for you to worry debbie with your silly little nightmares. it was highly unnecessary and would do more harm than good. 

"i know a thing or two about nightmares," debbie shrugs.

"i didn't say i had a nightmare."

debbie raises her eyebrows at you. "you mutter and move around in your sleep, a lot. so when i slept in your hospital room, you would have nightmares nine times out of ten."

you sigh, looking towards the ceiling. "you got me there."

"do you want to talk about it?" she asks, gently trying to encourage you to work through whatever you were going through. "you don't have to, but sometimes it helps--"

𝙎𝙒𝙀𝙀𝙏 𝙎𝙒𝙀𝙀𝙏 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀, 𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙨 𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩Where stories live. Discover now