Hold Me Close (Sequel To Take Me Home and Keep Me Safe)

Chapter Seventeen

Niall woke up with a sharp intake of breath, sitting up in his bed and panting heavily. His sheets were tangled up around his legs, body covered in a damp sheen of sweat.

He sucked in a shallow breath and glanced at the bed beside his, able to see his twin brother fast asleep through the darkness. A glance at the alarm clock between their beds told him that it was barely five in the morning, and it was the weekend so nobody else would be up for a good few hours. Not even Papa, who had the day off of work again.

He slumped back against his pillow, cringing a little at the dampness of the sheets. He couldn't recall the dream, just the too-close, too-familiar sensation of hands holding him down and limbs tangling with his. His heart was still racing and the sheets were sticking to his clammy skin, and he felt suffocated staying where he was. So he slipped out of bed and tried his best to be silent as he made his way to the bathroom.

He turned on the shower and got undressed without looking down at himself. His stomach ws churning and he didn't feel quite right. Like everything was off, nothing felt right. Nothing ever seemed to anymore.

The water was so hot that the room was steaming up already. He reached out to lower the temperature slightly and winced at the side of his mind screaming at him to just stick his hand beneath the scolding water, just to see if it would hurt.

He swallowed and managed to push the urge away, before stepping into the cooler stream of water. The water caused his skin to lace with goosebumps and washed away the sweat left behind from his nightmare. The panic lessened and he gradually began to feel more aware. He allowed his eyes to slip closed for a while, exhausted from being woken so early.

He wasn't sure how long it was before he opened his eyes again and began to wash. His mind was a little quieter and he felt more at ease, and he had a feeling it was going to be a quiet day. He didn't feel much like speaking.

Then when he blinked, a flash of fear ran through him, the feeling of the nightmare returning. The hot breath fanning on his neck, the hand pinning his wrists painfully against his chest.

He dropped the sponge and opened his eyes, holding his breath when he watched the water hitting the bottom of the shower run red. He remembered the times he would come home from school and retire to the shower for hours upon hours, watching the water turn dirty with blood, feeling like the most disgusting person to ever exist.

That feeling returned full force, even after the flashback ended and the water returned to it's usual clarity. He took a few staggered breaths and leaned against the tiled wall of the shower before sliding down to the floor and pulling his knees up to his chest tightly. A sob ripped out of him and he quickly shoved his knuckles against his mouth to muffle the sound, not wanting to wake any of his family.

He hated himself for crying. He knew it wasn't real, at least it wasn't in the present. It was a whole year ago, and he didn't want to carry on living as if it was just yesterday. That didn't make it any easier to stop though. Tears kept streaming, unable to decipher from the droplets of water streaming from the shower down his cheeks. He held his hand against his face, attempting to silence his sniffles as he tried to calm himself down.

You're pathetic, look at yourself.

He couldn't ignore the thoughts, they were consuming him. They were always consuming him, but on the quiet days - his mind was always the loudest.

Stop crying, he thought to himself, bashing his head back against the wall behind him. The tears slowed slightly and he caught his breath.

He couldn't carry on like this. Something had to give, had to change. If he went on like this, he wasn't sure what he would do. He really, really, couldn't carry on like this.