Out of Ink | A Short Story

Dreamless

I'm back under the Meeting Tree, but everything's changed. It's not the same, terrible place that has haunted me for months — it's idyllic and calm, a perfect summer day. The sun casts its rays upon the land, turning the lapping river into blinding, rippling light. People splash merrily in the water.

I finger tufts of grass in my hand, leaning against the rough tree trunk. A high pitched squeal sounds as a strong, familiar hand slides over mine. I tilt my head to peer at Ethan's face. Sunlight forms a white halo around him, making him look like some heavenly warrior.

There you are, I laugh. I thought you'd gone to join Lilly and Matt. Or are you too scared of getting yourself wet?

He smirks. Oh, please. You and I both know what would happen if I took my shirt off — fainting women and utter chaos.

I fight the blush blooming on my neck as I briefly remember how he looks half naked, all golden skin and sculpted —

I slap his arm. Arrogant ass.

His eyes gleam devilishly as he leans forward and presses his lips to my neck. Heat that has nothing to do with the temperature boils in my blood. I concentrate on keeping myself very, very still as he works his way up, tantalisingly slow. But the feel of his lips on my bare skin ... I stutter out a breath as ever so gently, he kisses the corner of my mouth.

Tell me again, who's an arrogant ass? he murmurs, his hand tracing the small of my back. I yield into his touch, just for a second.

Shut up and kiss me, you tease, I snap breathlessly. He lets out a low chuckle that skitters through my bones, and obliges.

When he breaks away, I am lightheaded and flustered.

I've missed this, he says.

Missed what?

He gestures around. This, all of it. I've missed simple, lazy days in the sun, playing in the river. I've missed being with you.

What do you mean? I laugh. It's not like we're leaving or anything.

There's no hint of that charm, that sinful playfulness, when he looks at me. Only sadness. Come on, Nads. You know this isn't real. You're dreaming.

I stare at him. I — I...

I'm not real, he says. I'm dead. As he says this, his body starts to fade. Suddenly I can see through him, see the river and the trees, which is starting to disappear along with him. My happiness has evaporated, replaced by an empty, ripping pain.

It's okay, he says softly. I'll be okay. And so will you, one day.

Everything is vanishing, getting blown away by the wind, splintering into darkness — and I'm screaming. I'm screaming and crying at Ethan to wait, stay, come back, I love you. Please. Don't leave me.

Come back.

Come back.

Come —

I startle awake, desperate pleas still on my tongue. The sounds of my grief, my panic, still ring like a siren in my ears. My clock flashes its red digits at me. 2:11 AM.

And here, beside me, is my mother. She has her hands reached out tentatively. I can hardly make out her silhouette in the dark. "You were crying out," she says, her voice stoney. "I thought you were having a nightmare, so I came to wake you."

No, not a nightmare. It was anything but that — and then it ended. It ended. "Well, I'm fine." My voice is like nails scratching on a blackboard. "You can go."

She hesitates. I stiffen underneath the blankets, squeezing the corners of my pillow. Go, I beg silently. Finally, my mom turns on her heels and makes her departure.

Say it — I have to say it now. "I know."

She halts mid stride."I know everything. And you lied to me." One, two, three heartbeats.

"Ethan was bad for you," she says coldly. "Boys like him would only ever hurt you in the end." She continues walking.

"But we'll never know, will we?" I snap. "Because he's dead, Mom. And you don't seem to give a damn. You don't seem to give a damn about me, either."

A scuff on the carpet as she whirls around. "Don't you talk to me like that."

"Or you'll what?" I challenge. "You'll ground me? Throw my things away? Tell Dad, and stand by as abuses me?" I don't know where these words are coming from. All I can think of is the scratches and bruises they've left on me for years, physically and mentally, and how I should have stopped it earlier. "Been there. Done that."

Her voice is deathly soft. "Nadia Barlin, I am warning you —"

"You've broken me. Everyday of my life. But what you did ... that will be the last time." My voice cracks. These words curl like flames in my mouth, and then turn to ash. I know she can hear the unspoken words. The last time you hurt me again."Both of you."

She has paused at the threshold. I refuse to look at her, staring at the ceiling, waiting for a reply. She doesn't utter a word, but the soft sound of her feet as she leaves is an answer enough.

This was it — the final straw. Her last chance at any redemption, and she blew it. I'm done, now, with the hurting and wondering over them, over why they never truly loved me or why I wasn't enough. I know what battles are worth fighting, and this isn't it.

Because I also know that I deserve so much more than this life they've shoved at me. A better life ... full of hope, strength, and healing, if only I dare to try, dare to look. I've already gotten a taste of it — felt it, seen it, kissed it, when I was with Ethan.

He's gone, now. But I can still make the rest of the journey, to honor his memory, and to honor me, all the hell I've been through, yet I'm still standing. Barely upright, but —

I won't let you down, not this time, never again. A brief, thin promise in the night. But even as I fall back asleep, I can feel it. An aching scar, deep and true, forever etched onto my soul. My heart may go on. But this hurting never will.