Похмелье

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I hate having a hangover. Especially this one.

I'm not as tired as before - those were two nights in a row in which I could get some sleep - but today the headache is so massive that I almost forget to cheer about having been able to sleep. The aspirin that I took after waking up still hasn't made it better. It's useless against hangovers.

The worst thing is not the headache.

The worst thing is Audrey.

I even missed breakfast. Usually I get up around seven, head down to the kitchen and get something for the both of us that we eat at the table in her room.

It's eight thirty. I shut the blinds yesterday and nothing woke me up earlier, not even my inner clock. I hurriedly run downstairs, now that I've realized that I'm late and grab the usual things.

Having arrived back up at the third floor I cautiously knock at Audrey's door, like I do every morning. Probably she hasn't yet realized that I'm late? No. She has a clock. She has nothing else to do and I even made sure that our daily routine is strict, to give her something to hold on to. She knows that I'm late.

I don't wait for an answer. She doesn't talk, so she never answers, when I knock at her door.

But as I want to go inside - as every morning - I find the door locked.

Audrey?

No response. I knock again, harder this time. Audrey?

Still no response. I'm getting worried. Is she alright? Is she just upset or is something wrong with her?

I have to fight the urge to kick in the door to find out how she is.

Stay calm. She's alright. It's you who fucked this up. She locked the door yesterday night when she saw me, right?
Damn it, it's hard to remember.

I just remember that she saw me - in that awful state. I'd really like to know what she thought in that moment. Disgust? Distrust? That I leave her unprotected? That I wouldn't care about her?
That's at least what I thought about myself in that moment. I took a silly risk. I told myself that everything had been alright the night before and that nobody would come for us that night. What a nonsense. Yesterday night had been the most dangerous night of all. The one after I had visited the outside world.

I guess I totally lost all my instincts.

The tray with our breakfast in my hands, I yield back from her door, to the other side of the corridor. I sit down just opposite her door, put the tray down and lean back against the wall. I can do nothing but wait and fight the headache and the awful guilt.

It takes a while.
Forty minutes later, I see that the little light that shone through the keyhole gets interrupted - she's looking - and a few moments later she unlocks the door.

I keep sitting there. She's standing in her door, staring at me. I don't know what to say, except for telling her that I'm sorry.

She acts like she doesn't even hear it. No sign. No reaction. But she steps aside, making way for me to come inside her room with our breakfast.

Have I broken her trust beyond repair with this?
She's fragile, I should have known.

I'm sorry, Audrey, I say, as I sit down opposite her.

She shakes her head slightly, a gesture that shows me that she doesn't want to hear anything.

I already wanted to say something like 'I never wanted you to see me like this' - but I refrain from doing it. That's even more stupid. Like telling her I'm doing things like that every day behind her back. It would sound dishonest.

I'll get us some new coffee, this one is cold, I tell her and take the two cups with me. That's more or less an excuse to get out of here for a moment, because I don't know what else to say. We usually don't talk very much. I'm out of things to tell her, I feel like I already said everything. Some topics were off limits - politics, the past seven months, our private lives, the future... pretty much every important topic was off limits. The non-important things were all already said.

When I come back, I have nothing to say. I apologize again, but she shows no reaction. I don't know what else to do or say. I'm sorry, that's it. It was a mistake. I won't do it again. This was a one-time only thing... even though it was two nights long.

We make our daily round through the garden. This time she doesn't even take my arm. I should have been glad, but I somehow fear that there were other reasons than a sudden increase in her strength.

Evening comes. Like every night, I bring dinner from the kitchen and we eat it in her room. My headache is gone now but the sorrows are still there.

I haven't addressed that topic again, not once, during the day. When we're finished with dinner I feel like it's the last possible time to say something.

Audrey, I need to talk to you... about yesterday night, I begin, and even though I can see that she is not comfortable with the situation, I just go on, it was yesterday night only... I'm not doing this every night, I sigh, I take a deep breath, not because I'd need one but because it gives me a second to think, I'm sorry. It won't happen again.
This was no explanation. This wasn't even an excuse.

She stands up from the table and walks over to the window. I sit there for a few moments, looking at her back, but that's obviously her answer, her way of telling me that she doesn't want to talk about it.

I can't let myself go like that.. I know that and I won't, I promise., I tell her, take the tray and stand up.

This is unfinished business. She doesn't want to hear me but I have to say it. I haven't been able to sleep in weeks... maybe you even heard me.

I already want to go, but my words seem to have triggered something in her. She turns around, looking into my eyes. I'm spellbound by that look. It's so rare that she even looks at me... and right into my eyes...

One night, I say, I just wanted to be able to close my eyes for one damn night without seeing it all again.

'seeing it all again'. It triggered something in her, again. It's the first time that I referenced to something that happened in the past seven months. She hugs herself and her view drops to the floor again.
She remembers something. I'd love to go over and just take her into my arms, but when I make a small step towards her, she instantly yields back. This is not the right time to get closer to her.

I take the tray and leave her alone.

It's night again. I have nothing to drink, and swear to god, I don't want to have anything. It creates problems which are so much worse than these nightmares. I'll just have to face them, even though I'm already back to my usual pattern: trying not to sleep.

It doesn't work. I'm tired and I can hardly keep my eyes open. Lying in bed doesn't help, but even though I don't wanna sleep, I know that I have to give my body some rest. I'm not yet fully recovered. It'll take months to get everything back.

Like the times when that Russian doctor took care of me. He was good. He was the only nice person over there. Not like the guards. They sold me. I don't know what the price was, for an hour or two, 'alone' with me. Most of the times they put a black hat over my head. I don't even know who the people were that came to have their fun or their revenge or whatever with me. Most of the time, they used waterboarding, because it left no traces. Before the court sentence came, they still had to keep me in a presentable state.

They held me down, put a wet towel over the black hat and let water run over it. It gets hard to breathe. I feel like drowning. We simulated that, a thousand times, during training, but in no way can it prepare you for reality. You don't know when they'll stop. It feels like they're going on forever, I can't breathe... I want to scream and shout but I have to save my breath. A hard blow against my upper body suddenly forces all the air out of my lungs, it hurts but I feel like drowning, even more now. The pain is secondary. It's pure panic that takes over. Fuck the pain... I'm dying!

Suddenly my eyes are open. Dark room. Moonlight coming through the blinds. A picture of a saint on the wall next to me.
I must have fallen asleep for I don't know how long. Could be five minutes or two hours. Damn it. At least I'm glad that I woke up early enough. Usually that dream goes on, way longer, and the things that happen to me in the end... they're too bad to describe.

I take a deep breath and stretch, still wondering what woke me up so early, when I feel something at my right arm. A touch of someone. A hand.

It's Audrey.

She's kneeling next to my bed. She's the one who woke me up.

I stare into her eyes. They have a sad but understanding glance in them.

Thank you, I quietly say to her, for waking me up.

She even manages to give me a little smile. Still, she doesn't pull her hand away from my upper arm, which she pressed slightly to get me out of my nightmare.

Did I wake you up?, I ask her. Why else would she be here, over in my room?

She shakes her head, slightly.

I would love to ask her what the reason was to come over here, but I know that she can't answer such a question. I'm stuck to the yes and no game.

I'm sorry for last night, I say once more, hoping that she'd understand it now, I keep seeing these things, they're coming back every other night... don't even wanna close my eyes or sleep any more...

She lets go of me, crosses her arms on the side of my bed and rests her head on her arms, as if she was getting ready to listen to a longer story or stay there for a really long time.

As I look into her eyes, I would like to tell her everything. Every thing. She wouldn't be able to handle that. But there's nobody in the whole world who I'd want to talk to, except her. It's in this moment, when I first realize why: because she experienced the same things.
Years ago, I wanted to see and meet nobody, when we got out of captivity. Except her.

Maybe that is the key to everything.

I hope that I won't scare her away with what I'm about to tell her now.

I'll do everything to keep us safe here, Audrey, I hesitatingly begin, I won't let anybody hurt you, ever again. We're out of there..., I take a deep breath, holding it, looking into her eyes to see a reaction, but there's none, These things keep following me, in my thoughts, in my mind, subconsciously they're always there, and they will be, for a long time. I know how that works... unfortunately.

I wonder how calm she is. I expected her to get up and run after so many references to bad things. But she's coping better than expected.
I don't know how I can help you, sweetheart, sometimes I feel like a blind leading a blind... It might not look like it, but I'm just as messed up as you are.

She slightly nods, seeming to understand... to agree...

It will take months for us to recover, at least for me... I close my eyes, lying there. I just wanna get some sleep for once.

Her hand goes back to my shoulder, resting there almost weightlessly. It looks like she won't leave.

I can't even find words to tell her how glad I am.

But maybe she sees my smile.

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