Tick Tock Goes The Clock

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Dan ~

I look over at the clock it's 2am. I groan and roll over trying to get comfortable. I close my eyes trying to get some sleep before tomorrow.

Then I hear it.

The ear shattering scream that erupts from the spare room that sends me sprawled out on the floor in fright. I clutch my head in agony.

Another scream erupts and I slowly manage to stand up. I stumble around panicking. I can't find the door. then I collide with something and realise I've found the door. I grab it and twist it harshly. Lurching out into the darkness. I trip over my own feet but despite my obvious disoriented state. I manage to make it to Phil's room and pound on it.

'Phil!' I whisper in the silence.

Before I realise that the door its open. I open it easily and slip inside.

There he is. Curled up in a ball, shaking, tears streaming down his face, utterly oblivious to me. I don't even know why I bother to sleep in my room. Every night is the same thing.

Phil wakes up in the middle of the night screaming, I rush in and he's a mess. Every night I ask him what makes him like this, what's hurting him, although i already know, he just shakes his head, sobs and tells me he's fine. I don't leave until he's asleep again. Sometimes it takes minutes, sometimes hours.

The worst thing is though is that every night with him in my arms, his head against my chest .while I lay there I fall even more and more in love with him, though the eyes that look up and me mine don’t know me yet.

He's a different person during the day. He smiles, but it isn't real. He is still shy and somehow despite me being with him nearly all the time, seems alone.

When he is dreaming bad memories from another lifetime he shows his need not to be alone. At first it made me smile, because he needed me. But gradually i realised that it was breaking my heart. Because I am the one causing him pain. And whether Phil likes it or not I am all he has, he has nowhere to go.

I am all he has and worst of all, most of the time, when it’s hurting bad it only gets worse.

I walk gingerly over to the bed, centred in the large room. I place a hand on his shoulder and he flips over, startling me His eyes are red, tears leaking from his eyes down onto the comforter. I am still sitting on the edge of the bed and Phil has his hands over his head and is whimpering in the corner of the bed opposite to me.

‘“Phil what’s wrong, hey? You’re okay, I’m here, shh come here.” I open my arms but he just whimpers.

“Is this.. so-some kind,” he is interrupted by a hiccup. “Some kind-d of a.. a joke?”

“Hey, hey, Phil. Look at me. I’m not going to hurt you. ‘Kay? I promise” He looks up, tear stained cheeks, hurt in his eyes.

“C’me here.” He slowly crawls over and then at the last minute jump into my arms. He squeezes me tight and the tears start again. “Shh, hey? I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” He looks up at me, his head pressed tight to my chest, listening to my heartbeat. I wipe away the hair in his eyes and maneuver us over to the head of the bed and lay down properly and within minutes I hear Phil’s light snoring.

And slowly drift off to sleep myself.

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