Fuck.
Even as I dream, I know that I’m dreaming. But I can’t force myself to wake. It’s been the same thing for months now.
I’m somewhere small and suffocating. There is barely any light, but I hear my mom.
“Please. Please. Please.” She’s begging.
Is she begging me?
I don’t know and it’s fucking killing me.
I try to call out for her, but my lips are frozen. I’m too afraid to call out.
Why am I afraid? What do I think will happen if I make a sound?
I don’t know that, either.
She’s begging again.
I hear my name.
And then I’m awake, gasping for breath.
“Pax,” Mila is shaking me.
Mila was the one saying my name. She woke me from the dream.
I sit up, trying to stop my fucking heart from pounding, by taking deep breaths. What the hell?
“You’re drenched,” Mila says softly, pushing my hair away from my forehead with her cool hand. “The same dream?”
I nod. “I don’t know what the fuck…”
She strokes my back and pulls me down to lie next to her. She enmeshes her fingers with mine, then lifts mine to her lips. She kisses the scar on my hand, then tucks it back up next to my chest.
“We need to figure out what this is,” she tells me softly.
“I know,” I answer. “But we’re not going to figure it out tonight. Go back to sleep, babe. I’m sorry I woke you.”
“Don’t be sorry,” she says quietly. “I just hate to see you so upset.”
She snuggles against my back, stroking my arm. But it isn’t long until her fingers fall limply against me and her breathing turns soft and even. She’s asleep.
I enjoy her warmth pressed against me and I try to sleep. I count sheep. I recite song lyrics in my head. I watch the moon. Nothing works.
“Fuck,” I mutter. I get out of bed as carefully as I can so I don’t wake Mila. I glance down at her and she hasn’t moved. Her lips puff out just a little as she breathes and I smile before I quietly walk away.
The house is silent as I make my way downstairs to the kitchen. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me. Maybe it’s my body’s way of withdrawing itself from hard drugs. But that can’t be it. I haven’t used anything but whiskey in two months.
Whiskey.
Now, there’s an idea. If ever I needed it, it’s now.
I grab a bottle from the cupboard and a tumbler. Then I decide to forgo the tumbler. I carry the bottle with me to the couch, where I collapse heavily and watch the water moving under the moon from the window. I take a swig of Jack. Then two. Then three.
Before I know it, half the bottle is gone.
And I’m finally sleepy.
I close my eyes.
When I wake, it’s morning and the living room is filled with light.
Mila is sitting at my feet, looking fresh and perfect. She’s already dressed and her hair is pulled back neatly with a band. She’s holding a cup of coffee and another sits on the ottoman in front of us.
“I brought you coffee,” she says. She glances at the half-empty bottle of whiskey. “I thought you might need it.”
I squeeze my eyes closed to block out the light. “Thanks,” I mumble. “I couldn’t sleep. I thought the whiskey would help.”
“I’m sure your head will thank you today,” she answers wryly.
I grunt in response and pull a cushion over my head.
“What does Dr. Tyler say about your dreams?” she asks seriously. “He must have an opinion.”
I lay there silently, trying to force my head to stop hurting. It doesn’t work. In fact, it feels like it’s going to split in two.
“He wants to hypnotize me,” I finally admit, tossing the cushion down to my feet. “He thinks my mind is trying to protect me from something that I don’t want to recall. He said that hypnosis might help me remember it so that I can deal with it.”
Mila looks at me thoughtfully. And then, instead of getting freaked out like I was afraid she would, she nods.
“I think that’s a good idea. You should do it. Can I come with you?”
I stare at her, shocked. “You’d want to?”
She shakes her head. “Of course. I don’t want you to go through that alone. If something hurt you enough to make you want to forget it, I want to help you get through it. Let’s chase these dreams away, Pax.”
My heart literally overflows with love for this girl.
And I don’t care if that makes me a * or not.
********
Mila
Pax hasn’t said anything since he picked me up at the shop. Today’s the day he gets hypnotized and I know he isn’t happy about it. He’s driving now with a set jaw and guarded expression. I reach over and grab his hand, curling my fingers around it.
“Are you okay?” I ask softly. He glances over at me.
“I’m sorry. I know I’m not fun to be around lately.”