For the rest of the day, I watched over Rosemarie, but continued to make arrangements for her. Someone will be coming to the home in two days times in order to fit all of Rosemarie's clothing. The day following that, new soaps and various other forms of toiletries such as perfume and face powder, will be brought to the house. When night came, I could see Rosemarie becoming rather closed off again, not as open to my occasional questions or Amie's care for her. Around midnight that evening, an hour or so after Rosemarie went to her bedroom; I got into my own bed and attempted to sleep. Although I've never had much trouble falling asleep, I was unable to, hearing small whines coming from the upper story of the house. I wanted for a short time to see if they would stop, but, as time went on, the whining, and now moaning, became worse. Honing in on Rosemarie as best I can, I stop breathing and clear my mind. Her heartbeat is out of control, getting worse by the minute, and I can tell her lungs are working on overdrive, as if she was in a panic.
In two minutes time, I made it upstairs and walked into the crème schemed bedroom. Rosemarie lay on the bed, limbs pulled close to her body, as if she was used to sleeping in small quarters. Making a quick decision, I decide that it's best to wake her up, remove the stress from her body. Sitting down softly beside her, I placed my hand against her hip. That's all it took to shock her awake, pushing herself up off the mattress to escape both the dream that ran through her head, and the person hovering over her.
"It's okay," I tell her, wrapping my arms around her body to keep her from hurting herself. I press her chest to my own, in order to let her heart beat match my slow one in time. "Open your eyes and pay attention to where you are. Take in your surroundings, the color of the wall, the feeling of the mattress underneath you. And, most of all I need you to focus on my breathing. See how slow it is? How constant it rises and falls?"
She doesn't respond, keeping her grip on my nightshirt tighter than anything I've ever felt before. I hold Rosemarie for what seems to be hours, keeping her body and mind as calm as possible. "Please…"
"Please what, Rosemarie?" I ask her, looking down at her weakened frame.
"Please… please don't leave. I can't fall back to sleep… I can't take it."
"I'm not going anywhere, Rosemarie; I will stay here as long as you wish."
It took a few hours, but, eventually, Rosemarie did fall back to sleep. Slowly, I lay her onto the bed, and for a moment, considered leaving, seeing that she was calm at the moment. Although, the moment I began pulling away, her breathing became slightly compromised again. My decision being made, I moved so that my back rested against the mattress, and that she could feel as much of my body as she as she needed in order to keep her mind calm. It wasn't until the morning came that I was able to fall asleep myself. For a short time, my mind was black, void of any nightmares, void of any memories. But then, Rosemarie's mind began to lose the battle to stay void. It was then that my mind began to form pictures, form sounds. When the picture became clear, well, I couldn't even call it clear, the lighting too dark to form perfect aspects of the surrounding.
A crying rang throughout my mind, a sharp, uncontrolled sobbing. Instantly, I recognized it as Rosemarie's cry, remembering it from the first evening we met. Over a short period of time, the crying became louder, echoed throughout the room she was in.
"For the love of Christ, shut the fuck up!" A male voice shouted, steps pounding outside of the room. The door across from her was thrown open, and a man, whose features I could not see, quickly walked in. "I can't take your god damn sounds anymore!"
Rosemarie pushed herself up against the wall, wanting to get away, but being unable to do so. The man, who now hovered over her, nearly growled as he bent down to grab a fistful of her hair, causing her to yell out in pain. "Please, please!" She begged in a hoarse voice.
The man, twice as large as she, laughed at her words, pulling her up further so that his hot breath could be felt against her face. "Time to shut up, whore."
It was then when I awoke, alongside Rosemarie, as she screamed in my arms. For the next hour, I spent my time attempting to calm her once again, smoothing down her long, dark hair.