Chapter Eight
Darry had taken the story kind of hard.
I knew that he would be worried about me, and feel sorry for me. But…I don't know; I guess Darry just…I don't even know what I'm talking about.
I told Darry everything Dally told me. About the ring, the suicide plan that he had with Aurora, and about my nightmare. Darry was quiet for a long time. The silence was awful; I thought that Darry didn't believe me. Then he said, "Wow." It wasn't so much what he said, but the way he said it that let me know he believed me.
"I'm sorry," Darry continued. "This must be really hard for you."
I nodded, "It is."
"I think maybe we should call Dr. Murphy tomorrow," Darry said. "He said you would have nightmares, but this just doesn't seem normal."
I didn't want to remind Darry that Dally had been having the dreams too; that they had nothing to do with the shock of leaving the asylum, but something to do with Aurora.
"Is that OK?" Darry asked.
"Is what OK?" I asked.
"I'm calling Dr. Murphy tomorrow and seeing if we can see him; just for a few minutes. I'm not sending you back to the asylum," Darry said.
I just stared blankly at Darry. He thought I was still crazy.
"I don't think you're crazy," Darry started.
"I'm sure you don't," I said as I got off the couch and headed toward my room.
"Pony, wait," Darry called out.
But it was too late; I'd already closed the door to my room. I wasn't listening to Darry anymore.
Now that I think about it, Darry wasn't the one that had taken everything too hard.
I was.
I was the one that had left when Darry was trying to help me, I was the one that freaked out when Darry mentioned calling Dr. Murphy, and I was the one that had been hiding out in my room for the past three hours because I couldn't face Darry.
I looked at the clock; it was almost ten. Darry had to work tomorrow, so he was probably already asleep. I felt like I needed to talk to him, but I wasn't sure what about.
The house was dark when I left my room, and Soda still wasn't back from the game. I quietly opened the door to Darry's room. The lamp on his bedside table was on, but Darry was asleep. There was an open book next to him; he'd probably fallen asleep while he was reading. I moved the book to the bedside table, and then I turned off the light and laid down next to Darry. I didn't want to wake Darry up; I would talk to him in the morning. This was enough for now.
"'Night Darry," I said. "I love you."