DISCLAIMER: I think I've finally gotten over the denial and realized that I don't own anyone here…not even Luka…*cries*
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here it is, the second chapter. The first section is from Luka's POV, and the second section is from Abby's POV. Thank you all for the kind reviews; keep them coming!
NIGHT TERRORS: LUKA
I wake, gasping for air, to Abby's soft touch. I feel guilty about waking her up because I know she doesn't sleep too well normally, but sometimes I can't help crying out in my sleep. I had the dream again. The nightmare. It has become a familiar thing to me, however unwelcome.
It always begins differently, and always for a time I am hopeful that it will end differently, too. Sometimes I see Marco and Jasna playing together on the living room floor, Danijela and myself watching from the couch. Other times our family is walking through the park – before the shooting starts, when all the trees are still standing and there are no bullet holes in the buildings.
But then, as swiftly as the wonderful memories begin, everything changes. My sense of peace is exchanged for pure panic, and I find myself running down the street, pulled by the sight of smoke coming from the direction of our building. I reach our demolished apartment and am drawn in like a madman. Running up stairs that are miraculously still in place, I pass some neighbors but cannot stop. The names of my family are on my lips even before I reach our door.
The next scenes in my dream are always the same: seeing Marco dead on the floor, doing CPR on Jasna to no avail, sacrificing Danijela for the sake of my daughter…The grief and guilt threaten to overtake me as I sob feverishly.
It is then that I always wake up. No resolution, just regret. And she is always there, Abby, comforting me, holding me. Sometimes I wonder why she stays with me. I am sure that I cry out the names of my children and my dead wife during the night. She doesn't deserve that. She deserves someone who can give all of himself to her, who can sleep through the night without calling out another woman's name.
But still, she stays. And I wake up from another dream with her arms around me. I am filled with such gratitude and love for this woman beside me, who struggles with demons in her dreams as I do but still gives of herself to comfort me. Again, I am struck by the thought that she deserves better. But for now, I let her arms encircle my body as I slowly fall back to sleep.
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I watch Luka sleep, the traces of tears still on his face. It always shakes me up to see him – my strength, my comfort – crying. I know that he feels guilty about saying his wife's name while I am here beside him, and actually the first time he did it I was hurt. But I have learned that he, too, has nightmares – horrors I can only imagine. I know that he is not crying "Danijela" to spite me or to push me away. Memories can be wonderful, and they can be terrible. I am glad that he loved his wife so much. And so, all I can do is hold him and hope that I can give him some measure of comfort. Like he does for me.