(Pony)
Hands are reaching out for me as different hands drag me back. I reach out, trying to grab on to those reaching for me but I can't. I'm dragged into the darkness, it surrounds me so completely that I can't see anything, but I feel hands on me, pulling and tugging me in different directions. The hands are rough and scaly- monster hands. They claw at me, tearing into me as they drag me further into the dark
"Ponyboy!" a voice calls out. A small circle of light appears where the voice came from. I try to go towards it but the hands are holding me too tight.
"Ponyboy" the voice from the light calls again. I try to answer but a monster hand covers my mouth. I start to scream, trying to get the voice to come rescue me but the circle of light is getting smaller. I try to scream again, I scr-
"Hey kid, snap out of it!" A monster has me by the shoulder, shaking me. I swing out with my fist.
"Dammit!" an angry voice says, "Wake up, kid!"
Wake up? And then it hits me. I had another nightmare. My eyes snap open and I spring up. I take a big breath of air and look around, trying desperately to remember where I am.
I see Darry kneeling on the floor next to the couch, blood gathering on his lip. He still has a hand on my shoulder. I close my eyes and take a shuddering breath, really trying to not start crying.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" I whisper, hoping he isn't too mad after I woke him up and then hit him. I open my eyes and brace myself for him to hit me back.
"Jesus kid, you alright?" he asks, gently rubbing a circle on my shoulder, wiping blood away from his lip with his other hand.
I'm shaking, scared from the nightmare and scared about what he's going to do to me. This isn't the first time I've woken someone because of a nightmare, usually they wake up with curses and fists, dragging me from my bed.
"I'm sorry" I say again.
"You don't have to be sorry, kid. Sounded like a helluva nightmare" Darry says gently. He continues rubbing small circles on my shoulder, normally I get scared when people touch me, especially after a nightmare, but this feels almost nice. Comforting even.
"You alright?" he asks again. I nod. He gives my shoulder a squeeze and then stands up and goes to the kitchen. I sit up on the couch, bringing my knees to my chest. He comes back with a glass of water. He hands it to me and I bring it to my lips with shaking hands. The water feels good on my raw throat, I must have been screaming again.
"I'm real sorry that I woke you up. And that I hit you, I didn't mean to" I tell him, staring at the water glass, unable to meet his eyes.
"It's okay, it's not your fault. I'm sorry if I spooked you when I was trying to wake you up, you just seemed real scared. You were screaming real loud, like you were hurt or something" Darry said, sitting on the couch next to me.
"You sure got a mean right hook" he says with a smile. I look up at him, still scared that he'll be mad at me and punish me, but he's smiling at me and his eyes seem gentle. I give him a small smile back.
"You gonna be okay now?" he asks. I nod and he slowly reaches a hand towards me and ruffles my hair. Then he softly brushes it off of my face.
"I'm gonna head back to bed. But come get me if you need anything, okay?"
"Thanks, but I'll be fine"
"Okay, good night, kid"
"G'night"
Darry stands up and makes his way back to his bedroom, leaving me alone in the living room. I almost wished he had stayed, for some reason I felt comforted and safe when he was here.
I laid back down, pulling the blankets tight around me, still a bit shook up from the nightmare. I used to get them a lot when I was little, but they started coming less as I got older. While less frequent, these ones are worse, scarier. I usually only get them when I'm really stressed or scared, but they usually make me wake up screaming. Most of the foster placements I've been with weren't too happy to be woken up like that in the middle of the night. But Darry had been different. He hadn't been mad, even though I'd hit him. He'd been gentle and comforting. I'd never had someone check on me like that after a nightmare, like they actually cared. It felt nice, it warmed me just as much as the blankets I was wrapped up in. Thinking about how nice the comfort had been instead of the nightmare that had scared me, I drifted back into a peaceful sleep.
XXXX
The smell of coffee woke me up. I sat up from my nest of blankets on the couch and stretched. Looking out the window, I saw it was another bleak and cloudy day, with rain just starting to drizzle. I heard a rustling sound and looked into the kitchen and found the source of the coffee smell.
Darry was sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in one hand and the newspaper in the other. Looking at him, I felt my breath hitch and the oddest feeling of deja vu trickled into my brain. Like I had seen this exact image before. I could see the image in my mind, playing like a film scene, Darry sitting at the table just like this, coffee and paper in hand, while a pretty woman behind him cooked breakfast on the stove, humming an Elvis song while she worked. Figuring that maybe I had dreamed it, I shook my head, trying to clear the images away.
I made my way into the kitchen, saying a soft good morning to Darry as I sat down at the table. I was glad to see his lip looked fine, I hadn't bruised him or anything.
"Morning kid. Hungry?" He asks as he makes his way to the stove. He fixes us both a plate and comes back to the table.
"Thanks" I say, starting in on the eggs.
"You get back to sleep okay last night?" he asks.
I nod, "Sorry again about that. I didn't mean to"
"I know you didn't mean to. You don't have to be sorry" Darry says.
"It's supposed to rain all day today, bad storm blowing through, so I figured we'd just lay low here today until Dallas comes over tonight."
I nod.
Darry continues "My brother Sodapop is coming by today too. I gotta fill him in on the social work stuff"
I give a small laugh, "Sodapop?"
Darry smiles, "My dad was real creative. Gave my brothers real unique names"
I want to ask what his other brother's name is, but I noticed how sad he gets whenever he talks about him. I didn't want to make him sad, especially after I woke him in the middle of night and hit him in the face.
"I like the name Sodapop. It's real tuff" I say instead.
"You'll like him when you meet him too. He's a good kid" Darry says, "If it's okay with you, I want to tell him what you told me yesterday about your foster father, see if he has any ideas on how to help you"
"Yeah, that'd be okay" I say, wondering if Darry really wouldn't tell his brother if I had asked him not to.
We finish eating and Darry says he needs to tidy up the house since the social worker is coming over tomorrow for a home inspection. He told me I didn't need to help, but I insisted. It was honestly the least I could do after all he had done for me.
I dusted and vacuumed the living room while Darry cleaned the bathroom and mopped the kitchen. I actually don't mind cleaning, it's a chore I'm used to having to do and I like that I feel like I'm actually helping.
After we finish cleaning, Darry turns on the tv and we both settle on the couch to watch until his brother gets here. I peek over at him, he had seemed nervous when we were cleaning, meticulously going over everything to make sure it sparkling clean. I work up the courage to ask him a question.
"Your meeting tomorrow, it's just for your middle brother, right?"
He looks over at me and sighs, "Yeah, just for Soda. They still don't know where my youngest brother is. But this supervisor promised to actually look into it for me."
"Do you think they'll let you get custody of both of them when they find him?"
"I hope so. But even if they say no, I'm not giving up. I'd get a lawyer if I had to. And I'd never let him get lost like this again." Darry says fiercely.
"Your brothers are real lucky to have you"
He smiles over at me, "Thanks kid".
We settled back on the couch. I wonder if his brother knows how lucky he is to have someone care so much about him. Who was fighting for him even after being separated for almost ten years. It made me wish that someone cared about me like that, that someone would fight for me and actually want me. I think to myself, 'Lucky kid, wherever you are'.
