A/N: I'm planning to involve a non-graphic rape scene in this chapter. If you can't stand reading about that kinda stuff, then this may not be your cup of tea.
But keep in mind that it WILL be non-graphic.Chapter seven – And I checked this time.
I rolled over in bed, my eyes resting on the luminous clock on my bedside table. It was almost four in the morning. I sighed resignedly, having barely slept over the past few nights. I was having nightmares about three or four times a night, and it was taking a serious toll on me. I'd wake up panting, sweaty, and crying- and if it was a really bad one, I also tended to scream. Stan was always up in a flash, followed by Kenny, who at the time was sleeping on Stan's couch. He reasoned that he while had nowhere to go he might as well stay with us until he was back on his feet.
We'd barely spoken since the night we kissed; Stan would rarely leave us alone in a room together. I'd heard him and Kenny arguing about it again a few more times of times since then, and as endearing as having my ear squashed up against the door was, I was starting to get bored of the same things being said over and over again. Wendy was out of town visiting a sick aunt, and with the peace-keeper being away, voices seemed to be raised every other night.
This particular dream was awful. It wasn't like any other I'd ever had before. I sighed again, and reached for my 'dream journal'. I flicked through the pages absent-mindedly, each one tracing over the same things, the same, tortured memories.
I began to write while the dream was still painfully fresh in my mind.
I'm alone in a room. There's a double bed in the middle; it's a bit like like the one me and Colt used to share, but it's not our bedroom. There's blood everywhere, staining the duvet, the walls, my clothes... It's everywhere.
Fear grips at my heart like a thick layer of ice running through my veins. I feel as if I am being suffocated, as if my head is being ducked under water. I can feel a pair of hands around my throat, even though I'm the only one in the room. I hear heavy footsteps on floorboards, and I brace myself, half expecting Colt to burst through the door. But it doesn't sound like Colt. The steps are too drawn out, too slow.
A sudden blast of icy wind whips past me, and I spin around to find the window open. Oddly enough, I hadn't noticed there being a window before. I close it, and turn back round. I gasp. There is something written on the wall in blood.
It says:
In life, I will torture you.
In death, I will haunt you."Are you okay, dude? You look like shit." I mumbled something incoherent, a half-assed retort, and buried my head further into my folded arms.I heard Stan clap Kenny over the back of his head, and couldn't help but smile.
"Hey!"
"Well you weren't exactly being the mayor of tact now, were you?" I lifted my head, and blinked at the bright lights.
"Thanks" I motioned to the cup of coffee Stan pushed towards me. He smiled, and turned to wash up the bowls from breakfast.
"Did you have nightmares again Ky?" he sounded concerned.
"Nah" I lied. He turned around, one eyebrow raised and a sceptical look plastered on his face.
"I don't know why I bother asking everyday. It's always the same answer, and I always know you're lying."
"Hey, I'm not-" he shook his head, turning to face us. He leant against the counter.
"Sure you're not. Listen Kyle, I hear you talking in your sleep- I already told you so. You don't have to lie to me anymore, I'm just trying to help dude." I stared at my hands, clasped neatly in my lap. He sighed. "What was it this time?"
"I don't know... It was really weird. Bloody."
"Your blood? Or someone else's...?"
"I don't know. But it was everywhere. All over the walls and everything... And I felt really weird. Like someone was choking me."
"Want me to call Charlie?" Kenny offered. We both blinked at him for a second, before bursting into laughter. I don't know why, it wasn't even that funny. All he'd done was gotten my counsellor's name wrong, and me and Stan were laughing as much as we used to when we watched Terrence and Philip.
"What? Tell me! Do I have something on my face?" he asked, rubbing at invisible tomato sauce stains.
I'm trapped against a wall, my arms pinned to my sides. Sweat and tears flow freely down my body, as does the blood that runs down my legs. "Dude, what the fuck happened to your face?" I irritably push Stan's hand away as it reaches up to touch the purple bruising around me eye. A/N:
I sob quietly as he licks all the way from my naval to my neck, tasting my salty tears and biting down on my shoulder, eliciting a fresh squeal from me.
He's told me when he wants sex before, and to keep him happy I always agree... But he never did anything like this. I'd told him no, but he wouldn't take that as an answer. Before I knew it, I was... He had...
He's just going through a phase... Stop being such a wimp and take it like a real man."Is he like having a seizure or something?"
I was shaking so hard that I'd have dropped my cup of coffee had Stan not taken it off me. A single tear trailed down my cheek, and I blinked with surprise. I was faintly aware of a hand placed on my back, gently guiding me through to the bedroom. My name was being said, over and over.
But I just couldn't seem to shake it off- as if a veil of fog was draped over my conscious mind. Freak.
"I fell." I reply flatly. He shakes his head at me.
"You don't have to be ashamed of it y'know. We've all had one bad fight in our lifetime. I shrugged, turning away so my black eye isn't so noticeable.
You are such a coward.
"Hey Kyle" he smiled gently at me, a false charade of sorts. "You're sick." Yeah. You are. I coughed again.
"Can you pass me my journal?" I asked hoarsely. He frowned slightly, and handed it over. I wrote my latest nightmares in with shaky hands. Stan peered over my shoulder.
"They're getting worse, aren't they?" I shrugged.
"Kinda. I just keep having flashbacks and stuff, it's really weird." He placed the back of his hand to my forehead.
"Hopefully that's just 'cause you've got a fever. But we'll talk about it when we see Conner next." Retard.
That's due to two reasons:
a) I'm sick of filler. I seriously hate it.
b) I actually had to force myself to write this chapter anyway. I hope it doesn't seem forced- but it was. To be honest, I'm getting bored of having so few reviews compared to the amount of favourites or alerts. I know Fanfiction hasn't been working right and all that, and I also know how much of a pain it can be to review.
But I'm at a point in my life where things are so hard that if I get a compliment, no matter how small, I cling onto it. You know why? Because I have nothing else right now.
So if you want me to continue, please review, pass onto your friends, whatever.
I'm getting bored of this story and having to write it out when I'm not even sure people are enjoying it or not.
So I'm sorry to those of you who are, but I might take a break for a while. Until I feel I'm 'inspired' enough to continue.
Sorry.
