You're not alone

Fear

It had been five days since Edmund and Susan had left, and Peter felt absolutely awful.
He always had a headache, he was always feeling sick. His temperature was too high for Lucy's liking, and he was as pale as a piece of paper. Not to mention how weak and tired he felt.
But Peter just couldn't bring himself to worry about it, not after what he'd seen the other day, with Edmund lying dead on the stone table, the knife held tightly in his hand.
He had had a dream about that every night since the first time, and he was getting really worried. He didn't know why he had seen it, and he didn't know whether it was just random... or it actually meant something.
At that moment he was lying in bed, as usual, staring up at the ceiling.
It was probably around midnight by now but he just couldn't bring himself to go to sleep, because everytime he closed his eyes the image appeared.
Glancing over to his left he looked over at Lucy, who had fallen asleep in Edmund's bed, a book laying open across her chest.
Peter couldn't help but smile at the peaceful look on her face, and chuckled a little when she mumbled something about sardines before turning over and burying her face in the pillows, the book falling and landing on the floor with a thud.
His smile slipped though when an all too familiar feeling swept over him. He struggled to unwrap the blankets from around him, before dashing into the bathroom, and just in time too, for no sooner had he fell to his knees, did he throw up.
After a couple minutes he found the strength to rise, and sat on the edge of the bath, taking deep breaths and trying to calm his pounding heart.
He gripped the bath so tight that he knuckles went white, squeezing his eyes shut for a while, but immediately having to open them again when he saw Edmund on the stone table.
Sighing to himself he slowly stood, walking over to the sink and splashing his face with cold water, gasping slightly when it felt like ice against his burning face.
Looking up he caught his reflection in the mirror, and sighed again. He looked like he hadn't slept or eaten in days, he was sure the dark circles under his eyes could be seen from miles away.
Resting his forehead against the cool glass of the mirror, he let his eyes slip shut, this time a coughing fit taking over him before the image had time to appear.
He grabbed a handkerchief from the side and covered his mouth as he coughed, taking deep breaths and trying to ignore the burning feeling in his chest.
He was actually surprised he hadn't woken Lucy yet.
After a while he slowly calmed down, taking a deep breath and lowering the handkerchief, only for his eyes to go wide when he saw it was covered in blood.
He thought for a moment that perhaps the knife had the same poison that Edmund has drunk on the blade or something, but then told himself that they didn't both have the same symptoms... well not quite anyway.
It couldn't of been the poison, he would've seen it on the blade anyway.
He stood there staring at the blood on the handkerchief, his breathing heavy as he squeezed his eyes shut, the image once again appearing before his eyes.
He saw Edmund again, dead, cold, lifeless, lying on the stone table.
Blood covered every inch of his chest and stomach, making Peter once again feel sick. The gaping whole in his chest caused Peter physical pain. He felt his chest tighten and breathing all of a sudden became extremely difficult... as did opening his eyes.
The part about this image that scared him the most though, was the fact that Edmund was holding a blood covered knife, almost as if-
No! Edmund wouldn't do that. Who ever had done it, had obviously placed the knife in his hand to make it look like he'd done it himself.
But Peter couldn't help but wonder if it was Edmund.
Both images clashed with each other, Edmund walking through the woods, tears rolling down his cheeks, and Edmund lying on the stone table, dead.
Peter's heart skipped a beat when he saw something he'd never seen before in the image of Edmund walking through the woods... he had a dagger in his hand.
Peter's head started spinning, his chest tightened even further, leaving him gasping for air. He eventually managed to force his eyes open, and collapsed to his knees on the floor, gasping and choking, still able to see the image even though his eyes were now open.
He caught sight of the blood covered handkerchief which now lay on the ground beside him, and all he could think about was the blood that covered Edmund in the image.
He kept gasping until he threw up again, leaving him actually sobbing as he collapsed onto his back, unable to catch his breath no matter what he did.
His head fell to the side and he had to force his eyes to stay open, he couldn't do this anymore - he needed to know if Edmund was safe.
But he couldn't, he wouldn't even be able to get to Cairs main entrance without collapsing again.
All of this was too much for Peter.
His head was still spinning, breathing was still way too difficult, and on top of that he felt like he was going to throw up again.
"L- Lu-" He choked, trying his hardest to speak, but it came out as nothing more than a whisper. "Please." He tried, but Lucy didn't come, she was obviously still asleep.
Peter let out a sob as he lay there, his vision beginning to go blurry and his whole body going weak because of lack of air.
After another minute he finally let go... and darkness consumed him.

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