'Cause I Like Him Too Much

Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Can’t this be just a bad, bad dream?

  If only it was, I would die trying so I could wake up from it. Nights and days passed, I kept waking up in the same state; the clouds had thickened their dark shadows around me, they would not let me escape. Even if I close my eyes, nothing changes and when I get to open them, I see not a single glow from the sun, but instead the clouds are always there, they manage to chase me wherever I go, whenever I try to run and hide. They tell me there is no way I could escape, that I should pull myself together and face the true horror.

  In my dreams, I shrink in fear. In my dreams I tell them to go away, but they never listen. My voice is too little to be heard, too weak as I am to fight.

  I am alone. There in the middle, they are waiting for me to surrender for they know I cannot possibly make it. There, they watch me weep, they watch me cry out for help.

“Papa! Help me!”

“George? Where are you George when I need you?!”

  They finally catch me. I squirm as long as I can, they all watch me while they laugh at my weakness. Along with my screams, I hear something, a distinct sound aside from their sinister chuckles. I scream for one more time and I hear it again. It comes from inside of me. A cry of an infant, and it feels alone. And it was abandoned. I say a mental chant for both of us, telling it to hold on too. As the two of us together struggle to get away from these devilish grips, our cries unite, and it is so deafening, I can feel my bones becoming weak, my muscles giving their forces up. I see blood, dripping from my own body. I look at the sharp-edged matter that has impaled my flesh.  I stop screaming then, letting my very last breath creep out of my mouth, causing me to plunge in the endless depths of darkness…

“No!”

   I gasped for air that very instant. Breathing fast-paced, I pulled up the lids of my eyes, the sight of Carmen sleeping undisturbed came before me. Thankfully I didn’t wake her, and thankfully, she didn’t hear me crying because of that horrible figment of my imagination that had come to take me. I didn’t want her seeing me this way, being afraid all the time, I knew how she would wonder ask me what is happening. And God knows how much I never wanted to tell her about it, or anyone else about it.

  But George had to know…

  If only there was something I could do to make him aware of what was happening to me. The moment I found the truth, I had become more troubled, bewildered in each passing day. The hurting truth, so hard to accept. I couldn’t do this alone. I needed George. Here with me.

 Let him know about this, Hannah. Write to him, let him know at all cost!

  Yes, I must. George should know. In fact, he’s the one who should know this first. Many attempts I made to make a decent letter, but I had no idea how I should do it properly. I didn’t want to startle George, he had too much out there and it hurt a lot to think that with my situation, I would cause him more problems.  But if I don’t tell him about this, what would happen to us? There are times I hated myself. I always feared tomorrow, I feared that all the people around me who would be seeing how this body of mine changes. I could see no reason for me to lay my back and just relax.

  I must write to him.

  Finding a pen and a piece of paper in the study table, I opened the small lamp above it, pulling the switch so it would release its dim, yellowish glow. I smoothed the paper as I took hold of the pen, but not so firmly. I started thinking of the expressions I ought to apply in writing this piece.

“My Dearest George…”, I began, the felt-tip pen stroked up and down against the blank sheet. “…It is such a huge necessity for me to tell you this. You know how I love you with all my soul, with every waking moment of my life. To be honest, I have been struggling too, my love. Always unsure and scared, I am now. Thinking twice, whether I should take these steps or not. I truly doubt that I would persevere and make it in this state I am in.”