5 - Nightmares

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He drove a few miles until he parked outside of a Taco Bell. "Taco Bell for the win," he smiled. The purple and yellow lights fused with the complexion of his pale skin. It made him look colorful in a sense. He didn't look so dull with those bright lights covering him. But his bad boy reputation only contrasted the dark look with the bright colors, making his rebellious side shine.

We sat at a small, plastic table that overlooked the RV parked right against the window. "Isn't she a beauty," he said referring to his home. He played with the ring hanging on his lower lip, looking from the RV to me with his colorful yet desaturated eyes.

"Definitely," I laughed. I took a bite out of my taco and watched as Andy stuffed the food down his throat. "Are you really that hungry?" I chuckled at him. "Here," I handed him a napkin that he gladly took, wiping his mouth clean.

"I have a big appetite," he said, quickly making eye contact with me before looking away. His posture stiffened a bit, it was subtle, but noticeable. I wondered what he was thinking or if I said something wrong. It had only been ten minutes, and I prayed to mother nature that I didn't already fuck things up.

To make matters worse, my mouth sporadically spit out questions that lingered in my obsessive brain ever since I had gotten into his RV. "I don't want to sound rude and all, but why are you actually here?" I was genuinely curious.

"I told you, you seem like an interesting person." I wanted to roll my eyes till it hit the back of my head, I never understood why boys say that. We are all the same and I highly doubt that I was anything worth a penny. I was a speck of dust, there was nothing remotely interesting about me.

Out of all the choices he had, why me?

"Out of all the girls I've fucked, why did I think you were interesting?" He answered my thoughts. He shoved a piece of lettuce in his mouth and sipped on his soda. I sat there trying not to act awkward as I played with the sleeves of my sweater. "I don't know," he said, rubbing his arm. He was lying about something.


Andy parked the RV right outside my apartment. I thanked him before I stood up and stretched, my arms reaching for the ceiling. "Have a goodnight, Belle," his voice was raspy and he gave me a smile.

I smiled at him, "Goodnight." My hand reached for the door. I pushed it open and the cold breeze crawled its way onto my skin. Goosebumps ran all over my arm.

My feet touched the black asphalt and I turned around to wave at him. My eyes scanned his little house and a sudden feeling of pity overcame me. It hit me. The conditions he was living in, the dread and misery he must have felt—trapped. I wondered if he felt trapped, cooped up in a little box.

Why not just let him stay the night. In a nice bed... we've got an extra one in the spare room, I thought to myself. He'll have his own space and you'll have your own.

I hesitated for a bit but proceeded, "Do you want to stay at my place for tonight?" I asked. I was getting braver at this and I wasn't sure if it was him—his overconfident personality and charismatic act—or the guilt.

"Are you sure?" He asked. There was a pinch of joy in his words. He stood up hastily and stumbled over a book on the floor. His face slightly redden and he cleaned himself off, dusting his shoulders. The rattling chain on his jeans came to a slow stop and he pushed his messy hair back, his lips forming words. "Sorry. My bed isn't the most comfortable thing in the world." I giggled at his clumsiness. His intimidating mask turned into adorableness.


"Here it is," the door creaked open to the only abandoned room in my apartment. The room was covered in the boring white walls and a gray carpet floor. It was empty except for the honey oak bedside table that sat next to the matching headboard of the spare bed. The bed hasn't ever been used, but I'm sure it's still as comfy as it looks.

My arms set down a big duvet and two fluffy pillows. The heat soon left my body as I placed the heat warmers on the bed—the cold wrapped its arms around me. In less than point two seconds the freezing air was replaced with another pair of arms, tattooed ones to be more specific. "Thank you, Belle," Andy said, hugging me tightly and I hugged back, patting him.

"You're welcome. You can stay here anytime you don't feel like sleeping in that small van of yours," I chuckled. He chuckled with me and accepted my offer.

"No ones ever been this kind to me," he said with a bit of excitement. I was glad to be doing such a good favor, even after the bumpy encounters we had before.

"I'm glad to be the first," I said. He opened his mouth, but I shushed him before any crude comments were made; more specifically about my first time. "No jokes," I played. "It's too predictable."

He laughed at me, "seriously though, thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

I walked into my bedroom and changed into a long black shirt with shorts. I did my nightly routine and headed for bed. I laid under my covers, yawned, and turned the lamp off. Darkness flowed into the room and I waited for my eyes to adjust. My mind roamed wild.

Sleep.

Darkness.

Dreams.

Nightmares.

I tossed and turned with my eyes shut—stuck in dreamland. It was like I was on a ferris wheel of death. My head was spinning in circles and I couldn't get out of the loop of nightmares. My forehead began to sweat, a panic was beginning to form. Blood. Murder. Suicide. Death. Fear. Pain.

Old memories recollected themselves, mixed in with some of my biggest fears. I was blinded by everything I was witnessing. Nightmare after nightmare after nightmare.

Words mumbled out of my mouth until I saw a malicious face fog up my vision, all I could hear was laughter, words, screaming. I covered my ears but nothing eased the horror. I covered my eyes but I could see through my eyelids. My vision was everything I never wanted to see. Monsters, phobias and deaths piled on top of each other. Words filled my head, speaking to me, telling me words I was too familiar with. It was like I was being stabbed, not just physically but mentally, it hurt, everything hurt.

The last straw was a vision of my family. Blood oozed out of their bullet holes and one by one their knees buckled and their heavy bodies collapsed to the floor. The first to go down was my father, then my mother, lastly my sister. I screamed. "Abby! No please!" I sobbed, feeling scratches all over my body. It burned. "I can't loose you, again!" I cried dashing towards their limp bodies, ignoring the crimson liquid that splattered everywhere. A faceless man turned its head and pointed the gun between my forehead.

A loud laugh boomed in my head, a deep, recognizable voice.

I held tightly to the edges of my bed, and my eyes shot open. My breathing was uneven, but I was frozen. I started to panic. I tried to move my hand; nothing. I tried to move my feet; nothing. My fingers; nothing. I breathed in and out quickly. I couldn't feel a thing except for a panic attack. I scanned my room and my eyes spotted a dark figure standing at the corner of my room. The night was anything but peaceful. I blinked to rid of it and this time it came closer. Go away, I said in my head, Just leave me alone. My body weakened; it was like I turned lifeless; I was falling in a void.

My back arched and I felt my life getting sucked out of my body. A white aura emitted from my body and all I could do was watch this happen to me. If it weren't for this dreadful terror, I would have thought the light was beautiful. My body ached and all I wanted was to curl up in a ball and cry or even end it all just to feel nothing. The pain became so intense that my body felt like it was on fire. I tried to scream, but I was so weak.

With the little energy I had, I managed to tilt my head up to see a tall, dark figure. "I'm sorry," he held one hand out towards me, like a wizard casting a spell. My white aura began collecting in his hand. My eyes focused enough and his face came into view. His face.

The tears started to flow out, it was Andy. "I'm sorry!" He mouthed, but this time tears were coming out of his black eyes. My head fell back down and with each second that passed, my eyes blinked for a longer amount of time until I couldn't blink.


My eyes shot open, this time with tears running down my cheeks. I bent my fingers making sure I was able to move and relief washed over me. I wasn't dead. It was all a dream. It was all a nightmare. But it felt so much more than a nightmare. The torture felt so real, too real. I managed to pull myself up and I began to sobbed into my hands, letting the water stain them, along with my top and blanket.

I heard a creak from my door and in came a sleepy Andy. His hair was a frizzled mess and his posture was slumped. "Belle? Oh my god, Belle!" He said rushing over to me.

I pushed him away and looked at his eyes. They were blue. Oxygen made its way to my lungs—I was expecting black eyes.

He ignored my attempt to push him away and scooted closer to me, his back laid against my bedpost. "Come here," he said. Even with that dream of him, I still snuggled under his arms, call me crazy. "It's going to be okay," he whispered, kissing the top of my head. I cried into his chest. I still felt weak, weaker than ever.

He caressed my cheek and started humming to me. Listening to his humming and feeling his chest vibrate, evened out my breathing. I had just met the guy and here I was crying on his chest. He was careful. He was careful about what he did and what he said. It brought me back to when my mother use to caress me in her motherly arms, whispering about all the times we laughed together. The image of her dissipated when I heard Andy silently sing, "where is the spark that won't fade away. And where is the queen to my king of pain." It was almost inaudible, but my ears caught them and there was a ting of light.

It was about twenty minutes since my crying subsided. We had just been laying there together, not moving an inch, he was just so comforting. "Thank you," I said to Andy. He bit the bottom of his lip and in return he softly kissed me on the lips and pulled away. It was quick, but his lips were addicting.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself," he apologized, reality must have taken over. He tried to move, picking me off of his lap so he could stand up. I didn't want him to leave. I looked up to him and kissed him back, deepening it this time. He took note and returned the gesture, slipping back under me. His tongue was a weapon, and I couldn't help but fight back.

He roughened it even more and was quickly on top of me. I bit my lip and began to lift his shirt off, revealing his many art pieces of ink. Everything that had happened earlier left my thoughts. I was focused on us and this desire. Sensuality was both a blessing and a curse.

He gently pulled my shirt off and tossed it off the bed, being as careful as he could. His fingers glided over my skin, the feeling left me in a daze. His glass eyes wandered all over me and I brought my hands up to his face and pushed his hair back behind his ears. He paused as my hands brushed the side of his face. He then took my hand and gently kissed it.

He began to kiss my neck, his hand on my waist as he drew circles on it with his thumb. His hands reached for my shorts and he swiftly pulled them off. "Fucking beautiful," he whispered to me. He placed his hand in between my legs and slowly went up. My breathing picked up and I stared into his blue eyes. I kissed his lips and fell for them once again, this kiss felt so different, to me, it wasn't just lust. He bit the bottom of my lip and I gasped.

"You're kiss is something I've never felt before," he spoke into my ear. He undressed his pants and pulled off my underwear and bra, leaving me completely open and exposed.

His fingers moved the small pieces of hair away from my face, "beautiful," our eyes still in contact. I was lost in this fantasy, I was lost in this journey to find myself. He made me feel like I really existed in this fabric world. It was as if he wasn't a stranger to me.

"I'm not..." I replied back.

He furrowed his brows and shook his head, "you are."

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