Chapter Three: Remembrance
He was drowning, the black water pulling at him from every which way. He could feel the hands on his head, tangled in his hair, pushing him under. It was freezing and dark, and no matter how hard he tried, the one shoving him down wouldn't stop.
His lungs were about to burst. He forced his mouth to open but sucked in only water, brackish and rank. He spit it out and thrashed, pulling away from the hands knotted in his hair. He sucked the water up his nose, into his mouth, and down his throat, as he fought for freedom. He finally jerked away, handfuls of his hair coming out as he forced his way to the surface.
It was waiting for him there, the terrifying monster that brought him to his knees, red eyes glaring and steam pouring from its nostrils. He couldn't fight it anymore; he collapsed at its feet, battered and broken.
Its claws were snaking up his thigh when his eyes snapped open. His chest was heaving; his hair was damp and plastered to his head. He swallowed hard and buried his head in his pillow. *It's not real, it's not real, it's not real,* he repeated over and over in his head, his knees curling to his chest.
A sliver of light fell on his bed; he started, eyes flying to the door, more afraid to see Alex's blue eyes than any red ones.
His breath came out in a sigh when he realized it was only Judy. She stepped into his room, a black case in one hand, and sat on the corner of his bed. "Hey," she said gently, running a smooth hand across his forehead. He sat up quickly and smiled at her. She returned the smile, and handed him the bulky case. "Kept it in my room… safe."
He opened it gently, took the guitar out with careful hands. "I play?"
Judy cocked her head, brows ruffled. "You really don't remember?" When he shook his head, she continued. "You loved to play. You saved up for months to buy it. I hardly saw you without it for weeks. Until…" she stopped and he knew she wasn't going to finish her sentence.
"I don't remember…" He trailed off, strumming the strings lightly. "Did I take lessons?"
"No." She paused, biting on her lower lip, staring at him with big blue eyes. "Oh, God, Curt, what did they do to you?"
He didn't want to answer, didn't want to travel back to that dark room where he'd spent so many nights. His eyes closed involuntarily. "I don't remember most of it." He was silent for a moment, fighting the memories that surfaced and then his eyes snapped open. "I don't wanna talk about it."
"It's okay." Judy smiled sadly, then stood. "I should get to bed."
"G'night."
She moved to the door then turned back and said slowly, "Love you, Curt."
He nodded. "Ditto."
He was drowning, the black water pulling at him from every which way. He could feel the hands on his head, tangled in his hair, pushing him under. It was freezing and dark, and no matter how hard he tried, the one shoving him down wouldn't stop.
His lungs were about to burst. He forced his mouth to open but sucked in only water, brackish and rank. He spit it out and thrashed, pulling away from the hands knotted in his hair. He sucked the water up his nose, into his mouth, and down his throat, as he fought for freedom. He finally jerked away, handfuls of his hair coming out as he forced his way to the surface.
It was waiting for him there, the terrifying monster that brought him to his knees, red eyes glaring and steam pouring from its nostrils. He couldn't fight it anymore; he collapsed at its feet, battered and broken.
Its claws were snaking up his thigh when his eyes snapped open. His chest was heaving; his hair was damp and plastered to his head. He swallowed hard and buried his head in his pillow. *It's not real, it's not real, it's not real,* he repeated over and over in his head, his knees curling to his chest.
A sliver of light fell on his bed; he started, eyes flying to the door, more afraid to see Alex's blue eyes than any red ones.
His breath came out in a sigh when he realized it was only Judy. She stepped into his room, a black case in one hand, and sat on the corner of his bed. "Hey," she said gently, running a smooth hand across his forehead. He sat up quickly and smiled at her. She returned the smile, and handed him the bulky case. "Kept it in my room… safe."
He opened it gently, took the guitar out with careful hands. "I play?"
Judy cocked her head, brows ruffled. "You really don't remember?" When he shook his head, she continued. "You loved to play. You saved up for months to buy it. I hardly saw you without it for weeks. Until…" she stopped and he knew she wasn't going to finish her sentence.
"I don't remember…" He trailed off, strumming the strings lightly. "Did I take lessons?"
"No." She paused, biting on her lower lip, staring at him with big blue eyes. "Oh, God, Curt, what did they do to you?"
He didn't want to answer, didn't want to travel back to that dark room where he'd spent so many nights. His eyes closed involuntarily. "I don't remember most of it." He was silent for a moment, fighting the memories that surfaced and then his eyes snapped open. "I don't wanna talk about it."
"It's okay." Judy smiled sadly, then stood. "I should get to bed."
"G'night."
She moved to the door then turned back and said slowly, "Love you, Curt."
He nodded. "Ditto."