27 | Nightmare

6.2K 507 100
                                    

The brush sifted through Nora's hair, feather light and soft. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the sound of it. Rhythmic, soothing.

"I love your hair," her mom said. Her voice—filled with love, warmth—threatened to make Nora cry. It had been so long. And yet, she'd been with her mom all morning. How long could it have been?

The brush continued through her hair. She actually had to fight falling asleep.

Then, just like that, it stopped. "Done," her mom said.

Nora twisted, a "thank you" on her lips. But... Her eyebrows creased. There wasn't anyone there.

"Why did you do it?"

She spun. Her mom hovered in the doorway. She was exactly how Nora remembered her—laughter lines by the mouth and eyes...a single age spot on her cheek...long, thick brunette hair...a simple, but beautiful ring on her ring finger. But the kindness, the love, in her eyes had been replaced with a betrayal that made Nora's chest squeeze.

"Mom?"

"I just need to know why, honey."

"What do you...?"

Her mom stepped further into the room. As her foot landed on the carpet, her leg snapped, and she fell. Nora screamed and flew off the bed. "Mom!"

She reached her mom's side. Her mom's arm snapped. Her back. Nora backpedaled. "Mom, what's happening?" she shrieked. "Mom!"

Her mom twisted her neck—snap, snap, snap—toward her. "Daddy's right, sweetheart. You did this to me. You did this."

Nora's eyes wrenched open.

She was immediately greeted by Willow's slumbering form. Right. She was at church. Not home. Not in her bedroom. Her mom...

With a shaky breath, she hoisted herself upward, wrapping her arms around her legs. She pressed her face into her knees. Please tell me it's not true, she begged. Please tell me she doesn't blame me, too. Please, please, please.

She sobbed.

God, please. Tell me she's at peace. Please.

She had to be. She was in Heaven. She was with God. She was happy. "Daddy's right, sweetheart. You did this to me."

Quiet. You'll wake them up.

Her shoulders continued to shake. It was getting hard to breathe now. Quick, shallow, not enough air. Her chest—it was too tight. Was she dying?

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. I can do all things...

But there were so many things. Too many. Her mom's betrayed eyes bore into her. She couldn't do this. She couldn't do this.

Help me. Please. Help.

God's here. He's got you. He'll help you through this.

She pictured God placing a hand on her shoulder. The touch emanated peace, love, serenity. She pictured the peace spreading through her, covering her from head to toe. Her breathing slowed slightly. She kept thinking about His hand on her shoulder. Though so hard she could almost feel the touch.

She could do this. She'd been doing it for the past nine years. What were eighty more?

The number was so ludicrous that she laughed.

She'd been fine all night. When Willow picked her up, her excitement over the sleepover had been enough to all but eradicate her awful afternoon. And the night had been so fun—everything she'd needed it to be—that by the time she went to bed, all of her worries were gone. Or so she'd thought.

She wiped her eyes and took a look around the sanctuary. Erin had joined them at some point in the night. Another two groups of teens were clustered on the opposite end of the room. There were more, she was sure. The sanctuary floor always ended up littered with the kids by morning time.

She forced herself to her feet and inched toward the door. She prayed no one would wake up and that those who were still awake wouldn't notice her slipping into the bathroom. She didn't have the energy to create a cover story for her tear-stained cheeks.

Luckily, the path to the bathroom was empty. She locked the door behind her and faced the mirror over the porcelain sink. Even without the bed hair, she was a mess. Blotchy face, snot on her upper lip. She grimaced and cleaned her face. Blew her nose. It didn't help.

She washed her hands, then settled them on the sink. She stared at herself, willing the blotchiness to disappear. It didn't.

Well, it looked like she'd be stuck in here for a while. She just hoped no one would need the bathroom until then, and that none of her friends would wake up before her face cleared enough to be presentable.

When her face had cleared enough to pass, she made her way back into the sanctuary to grab her clothes. Nolan, Willow, and Erin hadn't so much as shifted. The exhausted part of her begged to return to her pillow, but she refused. It wasn't worth the risk.

She changed and headed to the event room, where Andy and Max would be.

"Look who's up!"

She grinned and waved at Andy, who had called to her from a table across the room. He and Max appeared to be deep into a game of Battleship.

"You're just in time for breakfast."

Ryan set a container of steaming eggs onto the wooden table that had previously housed the pizza and snacks. He properly faced her...and his smile wavered.

Dammit. She shouldn't have chanced coming out of the bathroom.

"You okay, Garner?"

"Yeah!" She waved her hand dismissively.

He nodded. Did he believe her?

"Okay," he said. "You want to help me bring in the rest of breakfast?"

The journey to the kitchen began as a silent one. She should say something, but she couldn't open her mouth. The exhaustion from crying and only a few hours of sleep had sucked out too much energy. She'd need to fix that, fast, because if she went from chatty to silent, there wasn't a single person who wouldn't notice.

"You sure you're okay?" Ryan asked.

See? Noticeable. "Yeah," she said. "Just had a nightmare, and I'm so tired."

That was something safe to say, right? Or would he ask for more information? She didn't think he would—while he wasn't afraid of prying, he never delved too deeply. But...maybe she shouldn't have said anything at all. Ugh. She was too tired and scrambled to think this hard.

"Ah," he said. "Something trigger it?"

"Not really."

He paused. "Well," he said, and she knew he saw through the lie, "if you find that you want to talk about it, I'm always here for you. And I'm pretty sure your friends would drop everything to help you in an instant."

She smiled. I'm fine, honestly.

"And, most importantly, God's got your back. He knows what's up."

Her smile turned genuine. There was God's reply.

She stood a little straighter, and as she and Ryan pushed into the kitchen and greeted Nathan and the other chaperones, a sense of peace unfurled inside her. Her mom's betrayed eyes struggled to snatch her back, but, for now, Nora couldn't be touched.

Before the Morning [BEING EDITED]Where stories live. Discover now