Iris

26 | dinner

tw: mentions of abuse toward the end of the chapter. please be careful while reading :)

     COLD DROPLETS OF sweat trickled across my forehead as I hugged Abby closely to my chest, my shaky hand running through its soft fur as I sought a distraction from my thoughts.

Closing my eyes didn't help. Burying my head under the pillow to muffle all noises out and tossing and turning in bed for the past hours didn't help, either. No matter what I did, falling asleep seemed like an impossible mission.

My senses were highly alarmed, and my heart was pounding. My mind was lost within a maze, running through all possible routes in an attempt to find an escape. It was eager for freedom from the manifold thoughts embracing it, from the shackles tying it to the memories it yearned to bury away.

The throbbing sensation that had started to spread throughout my head told me that I needed to sleep. The waves of exhaustion that washed over my senses helped in diluting their vigilance a tiny tad, carrying me a step closer to the peaceful darkness I pleaded to sink into.

Regardless of that, every time I closed my eyes in hopes of falling asleep, all traces of exhaustion would vanish, and the serenity the darkness had offered would fade into thin air as a flame of sheer panic would replace it.

Recalling that James had owned a gun only fueled the confusion gnawing at my mind. The possibilities of what he might have used it for empowered the fear inhabiting my heart and made me want to crawl out of my skin and hide forever, the farthest from him and the horrific memories he left behind.

I closed my eyes, exhaling shakily.

It wasn't a nightmare that forced my whole body to jerk upwards in fear this time. It wasn't a flashback, either. It rather was a gut-wrenching scream that pierced my ears, forcing my heart to skip a painful beat. It was a scream of pure terror and fear that made me scramble out of bed, leaving Abby and my room behind.

The door to Marcus' room was slightly ajar, and although my heart was racing and my mind was yelling persistent orders for me to go back to my room's safety, I slipped into my brother's room, taking a good minute to adjust to the darkness encasing it.

Shaky fingers of mine fiddled with one another until my gaze landed on my older brother, and I could've sworn that my breaths entirely faltered, my chest constricting painfully as I watched him rock himself back and forth. Back and forth.

Between the time I'd taken to leave my room and make it to his, whatever nightmare he was having must've woken him up, for his back was pressed against the headboard, his dark hair was disheveled, and his face was tear-stained. His chest heaved, his breaths coming out as short, labored gasps.

My body moved on its own accord, my feet dragging me closer to where my brother was seated. I could tell the exact moment when he realized that he wasn't alone in the room. It wasn't hard to tell. Not when the entirety of his body stilled and his chest stopped heaving. Not when his eyes slowly drifted toward me, the unshed tears glimmering brightly across their surface.