Barely Breathing (47 page)

"But in order to really see it, the truth, I have to admit how much I'm hated. And who wants to think they're worthy of that much anger? To be despised so much... to have someone wish you never existed." I paused to take a breath.

"I shut it out. I
choose
not to see. I never ask for help. I even try to convince everyone that it's not a big deal. They don't know. No one really knows how bad it is because I won't let them." I paused and repeated, "It makes me stupid."

Jonathan silently absorbed my whispered words. Exhaustion rolled over me and my head became as heavy as my heart. I felt outside of myself as my eyes burned with fatigue.

"How do you do it?" Jonathan asked. He sounded so far away. I tried to focus on him, but I couldn't. "How do you get through it?"

"By not feeling," I murmured, blinking heavily, lulled by the voices crooning in the background. This wasn't difficult to explain, since I'd done it so easily all those years living with Carol. "I shut it off. And I guess if it's really bad, I block it out completely. I didn't realize I did that until my mother showed me what I'd forgotten."

I shut my eyes. "She thinks I'm strong because I can push everything into the dark. But it leaves me empty. And the dark always ends up finding me in my sleep."

I felt the weight of a blanket being pulled over me. I opened my eyes and found him propped on the coffee table in front of me. He smiled gently, holding a pillow in his hands. I sat up enough for him to place it beneath my head and lowered myself down again.

"Sorry," I offered in a whisper, my eyes sliding shut again. "I'm so tired."

"I know," he returned gently. "You can sleep here if you want."

"I'm just gonna rest before I go," I muttered, blinking my eyes. They were so heavy; it almost hurt to keep them open. Jonathan stood up.

"Jonathan?"

He squatted down in front of me. "Yes, Emma."

"Do you think you'll ever love again?" I murmured, not fighting against my lids any longer.

"I think so," he whispered, brushing the hair from my cheek. I shivered against his touch. "I'll see you in my sleep."

I pushed my eyes open one final time to find him walking away. "What did you say?"

"I said I'll see you in the morning. Get some sleep."

"I'm just going to rest for a bit," I slurred, closing my eyes again. I couldn't have kept them open if I’d tried.

My screams still echoed through the room when I sat up in a panic, trying to breathe.

"Emma?" Jonathan called out. The clang of the metal stairs echoed sharply in the dark. It took me a moment to focus on him when he crouched in front of me. "You're okay. It was just a dream."

I nodded and my lips trembled. "I can't do this anymore," I choked, my eyes filling with tears. I was too exhausted and shaken to hold them back. "I'm so tired."

"I know," Jonathan soothed, sliding next to me on the couch and rubbing my shoulder.

I released a quivering breath and wiped my eyes with my sleeves. "I don't know how to make it stop."

Jonathan's brow creased with empathy.

"Can I please have a glass of water?" I requested, trying to recover from my emotional meltdown.

Jonathan nodded and stood to retrieve it. I sat up with the blanket wrapped around me and took a deep breath to calm the shaking. He turned on the canister lights above the island, providing enough light for me to look around.

"Where's your television?" I asked, not finding the post-nightmare distraction.

"Oh, it's in my bedroom," he nodded toward the loft in the corner. "You need something to clear you head?" he surmised.

"Something," I begged. "I can't keep thinking about her trying to kill me anymore."

"You can't let her control you. Emma, you're stronger than this. You just have to believe it." He handed me a glass of water and sat next to me. "Do you know what happened that night? Or did you block that out too?"

"I died," I answered bluntly. "So, I have no idea what happened."

I felt the warmth of his hand encapsulate mine. The strength of it wrapped around my thin hand comforted me, but it also made my heart stammer. I eased it away to hold the glass with two hands. He pretended not to notice.

"Emma," he beckoned, making me look at him as I sipped the water. "Do you want to sleep better?"

I scrunched my eyes warily. "What do you have in mind?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Are you going to try to cure me again?" I questioned skeptically.

"Yeah," he grinned. "I think this might work, or at least help you. Will you let me?"

I paused a moment in deliberation. Jonathan’s eyes were big and pleading, begging for me to trust him. I sighed in defeat and threatened, "If it doesn't work, I swear I will keep you up every night I can't sleep."

"I can handle that," he grinned in triumph. "Get your jacket."

"What?" I questioned in alarm. "We're leaving?"

"Did you think I was going to try to hypnotize you or something?" he chuckled.

I sighed in resignation and slipped my shoes on as he tossed me my jacket.

"So how's your triathlon training going?" I asked, cutting through the tense silence that had encapsulated us upon entering the truck.

"Really?" Jonathan laughed in disbelief.

"Well, I need to talk about
something
," I defended with a groan. "From the looks of it, we're heading back to Weslyn. And if we're going where I think we're going, then we'd better start talking before I make you turn the truck around."

"Training's going great," Jonathan burst out. "I haven't been cycling lately because the weather's sucked, but so far―"

"Okay, that's not helping," I interrupted, glancing over at him apologetically. "Sorry, I do want to hear about it, but I'm about ready to have a heart attack, or anxiety attack, or something."

"Breathe, Emma," he urged. "Slow, deep breaths. Just breathe."

I tried to remember how. My heart continued to convulse, and breathing was becoming more challenging.

"Wait." It suddenly struck me. "How do you know where to go?"

I thought I heard him laugh. "It's not hard to find anything in Weslyn. All you have to do is ask, and people talk. Don't worry. Nothing's going to happen to you," he assured me. "I promise."

I buried my face in my hands, as the world spun out of control. I couldn't watch as we turned down each road. The closer we got, the more I had to fight the urge to jump out of the truck.

"Come on, Emma." I was too wrapped up in my anxiety to realize we'd stopped.

"I can't," I whimpered, unable to unshield my face.

"Yes you can," he consoled. "I'm here. Nothing's going to happen."

My hands shook when I lowered them. I kept my eyes closed and tried to calm the panic that was overtaking me. "I don't think I can get out."

His door opened and closed behind him. I stayed within the dark cab, paralyzed. My door opened, and his warm hand wrapped around mine. "You can do this."

I opened my eyes and looked into his. "Come on, Emma.” I concentrated on his face. It was so sure and confident. I held tight to his hand as if it were a lifeline. I suddenly felt so small.

"Just look at me," he encouraged, as I stepped down from the truck. "Keep looking at me."

I nodded, unable to find my voice. I continued to focus on him, his eyes assuring me with every step.

"Okay, close your eyes," he advised, "I'm going to turn you toward it." My knees buckled, but he kept me upright with his hands gripping my shoulders.

"Why are we doing this?" I whispered, feeling the warmth of the tears on my cheeks.

"Because I can sleep," Jonathan answered softly in my ear, still holding me upright.

"What?" His words distracted me from my anxiety, and I tilted my head toward him. "What did you say?"

"I don't know if it was facing it, or sharing it with you, but I've been sleeping through the night. And I want you to be able to, too." He gently ran his thumb along my cheek to wipe away the tears. "Go ahead and look."

I reluctantly moved my eyes from his face to the house in front of me. It felt like there was a stone in my chest. I leaned against him.

"This is where it happened," he said in a hush, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. "This is where you died."

I nodded, unable to see clearly through the tears.

"Do you remember now?"

I blinked the tears free and stared at the grey Cape, sunken within the shadows of the neighbors' trees. A "For Sale" sign hung in the miniscule front yard. It looked so much smaller than I remembered. I got lost in the dark windows. So much pain lay hidden behind them.

"Where did it happen?" he asked, his voice faint like a whisper in my head.

"In my room," I rasped, my eyes shifting to the side of the house. Jonathan took my hand and guided me closer. My pulse raced with each step. He led me along the wooden fence that bordered the neighbor's yard.

"Where?" he asked again.

I pointed to the second window. "Here." I trembled beneath the white framed window, her voice seething from the other side,
I am not losing my family because of you.
I shivered.

"Emma, what happened to you?" he probed, not letting me go.

Staring into the dark, I was swallowed into my nightmare.
Tugging at the restraints around my wrists.
"I couldn't move," I murmured.
The fabric upon my face.
"And I couldn't see." Jonathan's arm tightened around me.
Struggling beneath her weight.
"I tried to get away, but I couldn't. Then... then I felt her hands..." I blindly touched my neck, still able to feel her cold claws. I shuddered. "I fought so hard. There was... pain..." I breathed in quickly as it streaked through my body, "my ankle..." I clamped my eyes closed.
Banging and muffled cries.
"But then I just... I just gave up."

I bowed my head with a gasp and tears ran over my nose.

"But you didn't, Emma. You didn't give up. You're here."

"I don't want to be here anymore," I whispered.

"Okay," he said, his lips next to my ear. "Okay, we'll leave."

I stepped away without looking at him, and he let me go. I walked back to the truck with my head down, trying to release the crushing pressure in my chest. I'd just stepped into one of my nightmares. And I was fighting so hard to get back out.

38. Covering Up

"Good morning," Jonathan smiled from the chair across from me with a blanket over his lap. "You slept."

I took in a breath and blinked. "Have you been there all night?"

"Do you mean, all morning?" he teased. "But you slept."

"You didn't sleep?" I questioned, pushing myself up to sit, the weariness still lingering despite the few hours of rest.

Jonathan shrugged without answering, but continued to wear a smug grin.

"Oh, don't start thinking you cured me or anything," I said, suddenly realizing what was behind the grin. "Just because I slept for a few hours, it doesn't mean the nightmares have vanished. We'll see if you deserve the pat on the back when I go to bed tonight. Besides, they don't happen
every
night, and you know that."

"You
are
really good at this denial thing, aren't you?" he laughed. "You have no idea what's going on until you can't ignore it any longer."

"Yeah," I huffed. "I
love
not sleeping at night, and just want to prove you wrong."

"That's not what I meant," he grinned wider, but before I could question him, he stood up, leaving the blanket on the chair. "Are you hungry? I have... cereal."

"Thanks, but I should get to Casey's," I returned, standing to stretch my legs with my arms extended above me―feeling the ache in my neck and back. "Your couch isn't very comfortable to sleep on."

"It's not meant to be slept on. I offered you the bed," he shrugged. I didn't respond. I hadn’t exactly been comfortable with that offer.

I picked up my phone and slid on my shoes. I scanned through my missed texts from Casey, and the one response that wasn't actually from me. "Thanks for texting Casey for me last night."

"I didn't want her to worry," he replied, pouring cereal into a bowl. "She thought it was you. I don't think you'll have to tell her where you were."

I nodded, not sure how that explanation would've come out anyway. I still didn't know what I would say if she ended up asking. But then again, Casey wasn't the curious type, so I hoped to avoid the inquiry altogether.

"I have to stop by Rachel's to get my shirt for the game tomorrow," I remembered out loud with a groan, sliding on my jacket.

Jonathan paused, appearing concerned.

"Don't worry," I assured him. "She should've left for work by now. Speaking of which, aren't you going to be late?"

"I'm working from home today," he explained. "You have a game tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

"Would it be okay if I watched it? I've never seen you play, and I kinda want to see what the scholarship's all about."

"Umm, sure," I fumbled. "I'll text you where we're playing. I can't remember where it is right now."

"Great. Thanks."

I was about to leave when he called, "Emma."

I hesitated.

Jonathan leaned back against the island. His dark hair was disheveled but the way the waves twisted, it looked like it was on purpose. His wrinkled t-shirt clung to him, hinting at the broad muscle beneath. Taking in his casual stance against the counter, I could actually picture him in the magazine, and recognized why he drew so much attention.

"I like this," he confessed. "Us. Being able to talk. I've never been able to do it before. Not even with... Sadie. I've needed it... you. And now you're here, and well... thank you."

A chill ran through me when I found myself caught in the depth of his eyes. I blinked away and nodded. "I like this too." My voice came out small and broken as heat spread across my cheeks.

Jonathan smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yeah," I returned with a faint smile. I suddenly wasn't so sure if his coming to see me play was such a good idea. Something felt different this morning―like my vulnerability last night allowed him to get too close, closer than he'd already been. "I'll see you tomorrow."