Chapter-6, part-3

Continue

I’m never getting out never getting out never getting out.

“Mommy, help!” I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I screamed,

screamed as loud as my little lungs allowed. Screamed until my

throat was raw and I felt like I would pass out, or maybe that was

the water rushing in, filling my chest.

So much water. Everywhere. And no air. Not enough air.

I

thrashed my arms and legs in hopes it would help, but it

didn’t. It made me sink faster.

I

cried harder—not physically, because I couldn’t tell the

difference between crying and existing anymore—but in my heart.

Where was Mommy? She was supposed to be here. Mommies

were always supposed to be with their daughters.

And she had been there with me on the deck, watching me…

until she hadn’t. Had she returned? What if she was sinking

beneath the water too?

The blackness was coming. I saw it, felt it. My brain went

fuzzy, and my eyes drooped.

I didn’t have the energy to scream anymore, so I mouthed the

words. “Mommy, please…”

I jerked upright, my heart beating a million drums of warning

while my faded screams soaked into the walls. My covers twisted

around my legs, and I threw them off, my skin crawling at the

sensation of being entangled—of being trapped with no way to

free myself.

The glowing red letters of my alarm clock told me it was four

forty-four a.m.

A pinprick of dread blossomed at the base of my neck and

slithered down my spine. In Chinese culture, the number four is

considered unlucky because the word for it sounds like the word

“death.” Sì, four; sǐ , death. The only difference between their

pronunciation is a tone inflection.

I’ve never been a superstitious person, but chills swamped me

every time I awoke from one of my nightmares during the four

a.m. hour, which was almost always. I couldn’t remember the last

time I’d awoken during a different hour. Sometimes I woke up not

remembering I had a nightmare, but those blessed occasions

were far and few in between.

I heard the soft patter of footsteps in the hall and schooled my

features into something other than stark terror before the door

opened and Jules slipped inside. She flicked on the lamp, and

guilt swirled through me when I saw her rumpled hair and

exhausted face. She worked long hours and needed sleep, but

she always checked on me even after I insisted she stay in bed.

“How bad was it?” she asked softly. My bed sank beneath her

weight as she sat next to me and handed me a mug of thyme tea.

She’d read online that it helped with nightmares and started

making it for me a few months ago. It helped—I hadn’t had a

nightmare in over two weeks, which was a record, but I guess my

good luck ran out.

“Nothing out of the ordinary.” My hands trembled so much

liquid spilled over the side of the mug and dripped onto my

favorite Bugs Bunny shirt from high school. “Go back to sleep, J.

You have a presentation today.”

“Fuck that.” Jules raked a hand through her tangled red hair.

“I’m already up. Besides, it’s almost five. I bet there are dozens of

overambitious, Lululemon-wearing fitness junkies jogging outside

right now.”

I

mustered a weak smile. “I’m sorry. I swear, we can

soundproof my room.” I wasn’t sure how much that would cost,

but I’d deal with it. I didn’t want to keep waking her up.

“How about no? That’s totally unnecessary. You’re my best

friend.” Jules wrapped me into a tight hug, and I allowed myself to

sink into her comforting embrace. Sure, she led me into dubious

situations sometimes, but she’d been my ride or die since

freshman year, and I wouldn’t have anyone else by my side.

“Everyone has nightmares.”

“Not like me.”

I’d had these nightmares—these awful, vivid nightmares that I

feared weren’t nightmares at all, but actual memories—for as long

as I could remember. For me, that was the age of nine. Everything

before that was a haze, a canvas peppered with faint shadows of

my life before The Blackout, as I called the divide between my

forgotten childhood and my later years.

“Stop. It’s not your fault, and I don’t mind. Seriously.” Jules

pulled back and smiled. “You know me. I’d never say something

was okay if I wasn’t actually okay with it.”

I

let out a soft laugh and set the now-empty mug on my

nightstand. “True.” I squeezed her hand. “I’m fine. Go back to

sleep, jog, or make yourself a caramel mocha or something.”

She scrunched up her nose. “Me, jog? I don’t think so. Cardio

and I parted ways a long time ago. Plus, you know I can’t work a

coffee machine. That’s why I blow all my paychecks at The

Morning Roast.” She examined me, a tiny crease marring her

smooth brow. “Give me a holler if you need anything, okay? I’m

right down the hall, and I don’t leave for work until seven.”

“‘Kay. Love you.”

“Love you, babe.” Jules gave me one last hug before she left

and closed the door behind her with a soft click.

I

sank back into bed and pulled the covers up to my chin,

trying to fall asleep again even though I knew it was a futile

exercise. But even though I was tucked beneath my comforter in a

well-insulated room in the middle of summer, the chill remained—

a ghostly specter warning me that the past is never past, and the

future never unfolds the way we want it to.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***