Sunset Miracles (temp on hold)

Chapter 8

I woke up thrashing around in my bed. The sweat was dripping from my forehead. The amount of nightmares I had before now were zilch. I had bad dreams, yes but never as bad as that one. It was a continuous reel of the turmoil Joel and I had. Well, the torment that Joel done to me. The fear was alive within me. And there was no way out from it. The pain in my head was tremendous that I needed to pop a couple of my co-codamol painkillers.

On such a dry throat, it probably wasn't such a good idea since I was now with my head over my bin, throwing up incessantly. One of the painkillers had gotten stuck and now I was feeling so ill. My tummy was churning in fear, my hands were shaking and I felt weak. Like he was just around the corner to get me. Waiting with the baseball bat in hand, ready to hurt me repeatedly.

I've never once dreamt that I was being tortured growing up, but now I've had that dream, I feel like I'm going to be experiencing it constantly. This was my nightmare, this was my disaster and it felt like there was no way of escaping it.

A soft knock came at my door. Instead of getting up to answer it, for the fear it could Joel. Ready to come beat me with the bat and the vial of drugs he injected me with. I hid behind the bed. Scared. "Aunty Niamh, are you okay?" A small voice then rung out through the door.

"I'm fine, Rosie. Go back to bed," I spoke shakily.

"Okay, Aunt Niamh," she spoke before running away.

If she heard me rumbling about at 4am, then who else heard? Did Jim hear? Did Blake? I was confused. Confused as to why that dream became recurring for me. Why now did it have to show its face? I was done trying to be someone I wasn't. It's not that I didn't want to be the person I am now, but it was the fact that I was petrified for the simplest of things, all because of one abusive ex.

I'm sure we all have our demons that we need to fight every day but this one is important to me. It's important because I need to fight harder than ever to be free of him. Free from the pain and suffering that he's caused me to feel. I have freaking amnesia because of him.

I poised myself up on my bed after getting off the floor from behind my bed, and I began staring at the blank wall on the opposite of me. The pale pink had faded areas, suggesting there was pictures once placed upon there. No doubt they included Joel and I.

The pain was evident in my heart, the emptiness was hollow and the uneasiness was prominent. I wanted to run. Run for the non-existent hills of Noli. I wanted to just be gone from this place. From the reminders. From the pain.

I couldn't quite believe that I was beat within an inch of my life. I couldn't be sure of what happened after I od'd. I could've been hurt more times than what I remember. From what the dream showed me and I know I won't get any answers from MIguel or Blake. Mrs Calderwood won't remember either, that's if she's not dead by now.

My mind was in a whirlwind, and I'm sure there was no way out of the thoughts that I was currently experiencing. I could go for a walk with headphones on, but I'm sure it wouldn't clear them. No one was awake, so I couldn't call on someone to talk to. There was my niece, but she's only 6 and unable to full digress what happened to me. So I was stuck. Stuck in a rut. Stuck with the overbearing thoughts of Joel and what he did to me.

Sometimes I wonder if pain is just like ripping off a plaster. Once the cut has healed, you rip off the plaster and it's left you with a little mark, but one that's untraceable. But, the pain I'm feeling isn't anything like that. This pain seems a lot worse than what a little cut causes. It's like I need stitches to stitch me back together, because I'm broken and I'm bleeding at the open. I'm pouring out of this big gash, and the only way to stop it is if I get stitches in my head. And then they take a while to heal. And dissolve. Leaving a scar. But, again, stitches aren't helpful. They can only contain the mess for so long before the pressure succumbs the wound and it reopens. Making such a mess that you don't know where to look.