Compelled (a Hat Films Fanfic)

Nightmares

        I took another sip of my beer, trying to convince myself to get off the couch and go to bed. I was so tired from today, having gone to the office early to get some work done and cleaned the entire house when I got home, doing a load of laundry and washing the dishes as well. I had collapsed on the sofa a while ago, watching reruns of Game of Thrones on demand and trying to stay awake.

        It was almost midnight, and I was mustering enough energy to get up and brush my teeth when I heard the faintest knocking sound. I sat up from my laid back position on the sofa, feeling a lot more awake now that something was happening. I almost convinced myself that I had imagined it, but I went to the door away, wanting to confirm my suspicions that a person had knocked on someone else's door.

        I undid the deadbolt and swung open the door, nearly jumping at the small figure that stood in the hallway. "Amanda?" I asked, shocked that she would be here at such a time and even more surprised that she knew where I lived.

         She seemed to jump as much as I did when I opened the door, as if she wern't expecting me to actually open it. "Hey Ross Hornby," she muttered, giving me a weak smile and rubbing at one of her arms.

        "How did you know where I lived?" I asked, partly convinced I was dreaming.

        She gave me a sheepish smile. "I had to ask Chris Trott," she explained quietly, "and then I took a taxi and..." Her face turned downwards as she trailed off, and there was an uncomfortable silence as neither one of us spoke. I was happy to see her, but I was so tired that I could barely comprehend what she was saying; though it was clear something was bothering her. "I'm sorry..." she said suddenly, "This was a bad idea..."

        She started walking away, but my brain suddenly kicked into overdrive as I realized what she was doing. "No," I said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her into my apartment, shutting the door behind us with a soft click. "You're not bothering me at all. I'm happy to see you," I told her, trying to convince her that what I was saying was true. I hadn't been able to see her in a couple days, since she was so busy with school and I had work, and it was just hitting me now how much I missed her.

        "I'm sorry," she said again, clearly not believing my statements, "I just... I wanted..." She trailed off, her eyes suddenly glassing over with tears. I did the first thing I thought of, hating to see her cry. I closed the space between us and wrapped my arms around her, willing her silently to feel better.

        I hushed her as she began to silently sobbed into my chest, her shoulders shaking through her heavy coat. "What's wrong?" I asked her, pulling away enough to look at her face.

        "I'm so sorry," she muttered again, "I couldn't sleep and... I..."

        I didn't want to see her so depressed and vulnerable like this. I quickly helped her out her jacket and took her hand, leading her to the sofa. I sat down after hitting the mute button on the remote, one knee bent so I could turn to see her more fully. "Now tell me what's wrong," I prompted.

        "I just can't sleep," she started, "I haven't been able to get more than two hours of rest a night and it's destroying me."  She ran a hand through her hair, pushing it out of her face just for it to fall back to where it was. "I'm doing terribly in my classes and I can't concentrate on anything," she continued, "I live in constant anxiety and fear all the time."

        I didn't know what to say to help her. "Is it because of the accident?" I asked, wincing at the fact that I had to bring it up.

        She just nodded, a few tears slipping down her cheeks, illuminated by the changing lights of the tele. "I just can't relax when I know that any second it could happen again," she said, burying her face into her hands, "I just can't sleep with the fear that I might not ever wake up again."