Chapter 8

I was awakened by someone roughly grabbing my shoulder. I opened my eyes and realized that I wasn't in my house. This wasn't my room, my bed, these weren't my clothes. I bolted upright and searched the room frantically, my nerves bubbling to the surface yet again. After what felt like forever, two hands encased my face and I was met with the familiar warm, brown eyes of my best friend Nate. He looked worried and I could see his lips moving but all I could hear was my own breathing coming out in short, ragged gasps and a light ringing sound in my ears. Seeing someone familiar was enough to calm me down a little bit and I was able to hear him tell me to match my breathing to his. Breathe in. Breathe out. After about a solid couple minutes, my breathing was able to go back to normal and the ringing had stopped.

"Are you okay now, Mitch?" Nate asked, his brow furrowed in worry.

"Y-yeah.. I think so. What happened?" I was now able to realize that I was damp with sweat and my cheeks were still wet with the remnants of relentless tears.

"You started thrashing in your sleep. I tried to wake you up for a good two minutes before you finally opened your eyes.. Mitchie.. you're not okay. I can see those deep purple bruise-like bags under your eyes, and if this is how you're sleeping every night..." he trailed off.

"No, I've been getting plenty of sleep lately.. Just.. I don't know, maybe just because I haven't slept over in a while.. you know? It's just different sleeping somewhere that's not my own room," I answered back feebly. Nate's eyes searched my own.

"How many lies, Mitch?.. There's no way you've been 'getting plenty of sleep lately'. I've noticed it for a while.. I should've said something sooner. I didn't realize you were having nightmares every night. You know that's not healthy.. What was it about? I heard my name.."

I sighed. A long, tired, exhausted sigh. "I don't know, sometimes I have dreams that people I love.. die. You died in my dream. I'm so sorry!" I cried out. He sighed and engulfed me in a hug. I hadn't realized how much I actually needed one. No one has hugged me in such a long time. I squeezed him tighter and realized a few tears were starting to fall again.

"Why are you having these dreams, do you know? There's got to be some reason for them.. They happen often, you said?" he asked patiently.

"I don't know," I replied quietly and hugged him all the tighter.

"Can you stop?" he asked, annoyed yet still somehow patient as he broke our hug to get a better look at me. "I know you're lying. You know you're lying. Stop avoiding the truth and just be honest. Please? You're killing me here. I've tried so hard to be patient and wait for you to be ready to open up to me about what's been going on.. But Mitch, it's been a few months now! Months, Mitch. And you're getting worse. You're hardly sleeping, I never see you eat anymore, and you're still so incredibly jumpy. You're paranoid, and I can't help you if you don't let me in. I'm your friend, Mitch. I'm here for you whenever you need me. But I'm going to start intruding and pushing you because you're not getting better. You're getting worse, and I don't want to see you spiral down into a dark abyss where you can't get out. Please. Just please.. let me in," he pleaded.

"He threatened to hurt you," I blurted out. Here, he said this nice long speech, and I so eloquently just blurt out what he wanted to hear. No thank yous, no sorries, just blunt and to the point. I'm officially the worst person in the world. Worst friend, worst person.. He's been trying so hard and been so patient to get me to open up about it for months and I've been pushing him away and being so rude and mean.. and all he wanted to do was help. And here I am... Still being a jerk.

"What?... Who?" he asked, confused. There was a heavy silence wafting through the air.

"The um.. the guy who.. the guy who attacked me.." I sputtered.

"What do you mean, he threatened me?"

"I mean exactly what I said.. He.. He said if I told anyone, he'd hurt you guys.. Like, you, my family, Carey, and my dog for Christ's sake.. He knows me, Nate.. He knows a lot about me.. I was so scared that he would somehow find out that you knew and that he'd attack you. He was big.. So strong.." I trailed off, trying to look at anything other than Nate. "I've been having dreams that you're dead.. So many different dreams. They've been haunting me since you took me home that night. Sometimes you've been stabbed or shot or hung.. I've had one where you were buried alive and some where some blurry, fuzzy man snaps your neck right in front of me. There have been some where you're laying in a pool of your own blood and some where I'm running to help you but I slip and fall only to realize I've slipped in pools of your blood and I'm stuck in it and can't get out and I can hear a man laughing off in the distance. Sometimes I just relive that night."

"That's.. Jesus.. That's pretty gruesome. And you didn't tell anyone about this? You said it's been happening since I took you home from that party? Jesus, Mitch.." he cursed.

"I'm sorry.. I don't.." I started, but he interrupted me.

"Why didn't you say anything? You need to say something. This is killing you. I'm watching it destroy you.. Hell, you're letting it destroy you.. and I'm concerned.. You have to speak up."

"Nate.. It's not that easy. Please. Stop.." I begged.

"What's he going to do to me? Kill me? He's our age, isn't he? Is he really going to kill another kid? Is he really that crazy?.." He asked, anger flashing in his eyes.

"Hell if I know! He raped me!" I said angrily, the word 'rape' sounded as though it was echoing throughout the room. As soon as it came out, my face burst into flames. I was agitated but I was mostly embarrassed. Saying the word, knowing that I was a victim, feeling how strong he was compared to me; like trying to move a brick wall. That feeling of being trapped and not being able to get away. I couldn't move. I couldn't get away. I was trapped. I needed to get away, to get out. I need to get out.

"Breathe, Mitchie!" I heard someone faintly yelling in the distance. But I couldn't breathe. You can't breathe if you're being suffocated by some behemoth. Suddenly I'm back in that room. I was pinned to the bed, ass up in the air. I could hear the rustling of the sheets on the bed in the unfamiliar strange room. I knew what was coming. That almost made it worse. I've seen this in my dreams for the past couple of months, I know what's coming. Pain. Pain is coming. Ruthless, relentless pain. It was different though now than in my dreams. The pain was taking too long.. Instead what I felt was someone grabbing both of my arms gently, but firmly. I started to struggle.

"Mitchie, you need to breathe," the voice was saying. I know that voice. "Come on, breathe." I need to breathe. "You can do this, match up your breathing with me." I can breathe. "In.. and out.. come on, match up with me.. There you go. Good, keep going and don't stop the rhythm. Slow, deep breaths."

"I.. I'm so sorry.. I don't know what happened," I gasped out after a couple minutes. Nate had finally come back into view and I was able to recognize the reality in front of me.

"You looked like you weren't even with me for a second. What happened? Where did you go?"

"I.. I don't know. Your room disappeared and I was.. I was with him in that room. It felt so real. I thought it was real," I said, cowering into his chest and letting the tears flow. He wrapped his arms around me and let me cry.

Monday was a bit better, Nate had tried so hard to make this weekend fun and stress-free and as enjoyable as possible for the both of us and I think he succeeded. I still felt that weird unnatural feeling every time I would laugh or smile, but I wonder if that was just from lack of using those muscles for the last month or two.

Classes were just as monotonous as ever, winter break finals were coming up and all of our classes were just going over review material. I felt pretty good about my finals, I'd been studying a little more than normal since I didn't really have the stomach for anything else.

"Oh my gosh. Have you seen the study guide for history?! Study guides are supposed to pin point what to focus on when we study.. He literally put everything we've ever glanced at on this damn thing!" Carey fumed. She had been busy lately with all of her honors classes kicking it into high gear and with work.

"I'm sure you'll do fine, Carey! You always panic beforehand and then you always get an A," Nate laughed as he side hugged her and patted the side of her head as she nervously let go of the handfuls of her own hair she had gripped tightly in a slightly crazed manner. The bell rang and he ruffled her hair as she walked nervously into her history class.

I scampered to English as Nate did the same ruffle of my hair before he ran off to his own class. As I sat down at my desk ready to take my final, I heard an unmistakable deep chuckle as the teacher walked up to the front of the classroom.

"Alright guys, before we take our final, we have a guest speaker who's going to tell you about some football fundraiser thing. I don't know.. Take it away, Tyler," Mr. Holbrook said.

I barely heard anything. My face, I'm pretty sure had lost all color to it and I couldn't quite breathe right. Or move. I stared ahead of me and my hearing went in and out as I attempted to listen to Tyler give his talk on the annual football barbecue extravaganza or whatever the hell it was. This was it. This was the guy. He chuckled every once in a while when some kid from the class made some dumb ass comment on how hot the college chicks were that attended the whatever fucking fundraiser thing. Every time he chuckled, I felt the blood drain ever so slightly further from my body. I was frozen. What the hell do I do? I didn't want to draw attention to myself because I didn't think I could handle it if he even looked at me. This fuzzy faced monster in my dreams finally had a name.. and a face.

"Alright, thank you Tyler. Now that that's all done.. Yes, thank you Lucas for the wonderful comments on our alumni. Now that that's done, I'll pass out your final exams and once you.. Mitchie? Mitchie are you alright?" Mr. Holbrook asked. I tried, trust me when I say I tried.. But God help me, I couldn't move.

"Mitchie, I really think you should go to the nurse.. I'll call someone to assist you over there."

"No need, Mr. H. I'm headed in that direction," exclaimed the last voice I ever wanted to hear again.

"Oh, thank you so much, Tyler. Mitchie, Tyler is going to help you to the nurse's office." No, I wanted to say. Dear Jesus God, no! But I didn't. I was in complete shut down shock mode. I was just so caught unaware and I hadn't even been thinking about it for once. I was totally focused on the damn final. I hadn't even thought something like this would possibly happen to me. The next thing I knew, Mr. Holbrook was carefully guiding me into the hands of my fucking rapist. He thought he was helping. Don't pass out now, dumb girl! My vision was starting to fade in and out along with my hearing. Panic had officially set in. I was walking the long, slow motioned path toward my undoing. A single tear had finally left my eye, and as soon as it had fallen, my world went black.

Revised.