Nightmare Factory (Part 2)

I now sat in Chase’s passenger seat, still bundled up in the blanket Tucker had given me. He had insisted that I keep it and just bring it back the next time I came to visit. Tucker seemed to stumble over his words when he mentioned me returning, but I just smiled as I shuffled past Chase and headed towards his Jeep. I felt his eyes follow me.

He and Tucker were standing by Tucker’s car, talking, occasionally both glancing in my direction. Finally, they shook hands and Chase turned towards the Jeep. I felt my stomach clench.

I was so scared that he was angry.

Why?

I watched as Chase crunched across the frost-laden grass, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his black snow jacket, his breath billowing out like silver clouds. As he crossed in front of the headlights, he stopped, faced me, withdrew his hands from his jacket, spread his legs, settled his fists on his hips, and shook his head from side to side, as if I were a petulant child.

I couldn’t help but giggle and smile.

Damn. He got me.

Chase laughed and continued over to the driver’s side. He opened the car door and slung himself up into the seat. The dull yellow glow of the light between us shone down, outlining his messy hair, sleepy eyes, but gentle smile.

He looked right into my eyes.

“You ready to go home?”

My smile melted. I stared back, my mind and mouth vacant.

Go home. Back to my bed, where the nightmares and sickly visions of my daddy would come creeping in.

I suddenly just felt completely numb. Exhausted. Drained.

Dread.

He watched me, searching my face. I could see worry flickering in his features, his left dimple showing as he sucked on the inside of his bottom lip.

And then he slightly nodded, shut his door, buckled his seatbelt.

“Buckle up, Ave.”

It was a command. Gentle, but firm.

“I already am,” I replied. I felt so oddly small.

“Ah, couldn't tell beneath all that blanket,” he grinned, backing up and out to leave the cemetery. 

Why was he smiling?

I felt sick.

I turned my attention to the moon, which I kept my eyes transfixed on as Chase drove us both, in silence, through the slumbering dark streets of Ridge Rock.

We passed downtown.

We passed Cragright.

We passed Rejavanate.

And finally reached my street.

My eyes slipped off the silver rim of the moon to the outline of the tips of the tree in my backyard that held our beloved little house. The twisted, naked branches seemed to stab at the night sky. There were no lush green leaves to soften the gnarled appearance that winter’s life-leeching kiss brought to nature.

I almost felt they were jabbing into me.

Chase parked his Jeep in front of my house, exited the car, and began to come around to my door.

I felt sick.

I felt so sick.

Before he could grab the handle, I threw myself at the door, clawing my way out of the Jeep and flinging myself to the pavement. 

I vomited.

I had nothing in me, so it was nothing but rib-searing pain as I dry heaved on all fours, the blanket haphazardly covering my shivering body.

“Holy shit, Ave, oh my God,” Chase uttered, instantly dropping to my side. 

I gasped for air as the need to throw up passed, and began to sob once more. 

I hurt. I hurt so much.

“Ave, are you okay? Did you take something you shouldn't have? Why were you there tonight? Did you just need to talk to your dad? Are you-”

“Stop,” I managed, through gritted teeth. 

Chase immediately fell silent.

“Please. Just…stop,” I begged in a whisper.

I couldn’t even look at him.

I let out a shaky breath and began to try to get up. Only then did I realize that I had bruised and scraped both of my knees from falling out of the Jeep and down to the pavement. My body ached from the cold, the vomiting, the fall. The grief. The lack of sleep. The way I had just silenced Chase, who stood there, watching me.

I leaned back against the Jeep, swiping stray strands of drool from my face. I was so embarrassed.

Ashamed.

Trapped.

It felt like an eternity, standing there, staring at Chase’s shoes.

Finally, he took a step towards me.

I bit back a sob. 

He wrapped a hand around the back of my head, pulling me to his chest and then wrapping both arms around me, nestling me over his heart. I pressed my ear to him, feeling the steady beat of his heart, and I let go.

I just let go.

My legs crumpled, but Chase immediately scooped me up into his arms and carried me to my front door. He had a key. He knew the lock was janky. He knew how to navigate the stairs in the dark.

He knew.

Suddenly, he was lowering me onto the lid of the toilet in my bathroom. He wiped my face with a warm wet towel. He asked if I felt well enough to brush my teeth. I blinked. He brought my toothbrush with the paste. I brushed. He helped me rinse, holding my hair back in case I heaved again. As I mindlessly slipped into the fresh clothes that he brought me behind my closed bathroom door, my mind kept replaying daddy’s voice.

“Are you alright, my little bird?”

No. I’m not, daddy.

“Did you get hurt, too?”

Yes. I’m hurting. I hurt so much. I hurt Chase. I hurt everyone. 

“Oh honey, that’s because you have the biggest and goodest heart.”

No. I don’t, daddy. You wanna know why?

Because I hate you right now. I hate you for leaving me. Why did you do it? Why did you kill yourself? I remember hearing some old ladies at your funeral. I don’t even know how they knew you. But they called you selfish. Selfish and careless to leave me and mom behind. Why couldn’t you just tell us something was wrong? Did you not know how much we loved you?

You chose this. You chose to leave me.

I hate you.

I hate you so much.

A horrible, choking sob escaped my throat and I fell back against the door.

Immediately, I heard rapping on the door.

“Ave? Are you okay? Are you decent?”

I just kept crying.

I hate myself, too.

Chase wriggled the doorknob and opened the door slightly, his eyes covered with one hand.

“I’m not naked,” I practically barked.

“Oh, good,” he said, his hand falling to his side. 

He looked so tired.

It made me feel even more awful.

“Ave…”

“Chase.”

He stopped, his eyes darkening with sadness.

“Did you love my dad?”

His brow furrowed, a hint of confusion crossing his face. Just as quickly, softness bloomed in his features, his misty blue eyes filling with kindness.

“Of course I did. He was the father I never had.”

I sat on the bathroom carpet, processing his response.

I hate you so much.

“Why?” he asked, so gently, as if the question would shatter me into a million pieces.

I had no answer. 

I was done.

In full autopilot, I got up, turned off the bathroom light, crossed my bedroom, and crawled into bed, pulling the covers up and over me as I went.

I curled in on myself, and just laid there.

Silence filled the room. 

In the dark, I heard Chase sigh and follow my path, lowering himself onto the floor by my bed. He didn’t say anything, but felt around in the pitch black for my hand. I couldn’t help it. I slipped it out from under the blanket and intertwined my fingers with his.

I felt him squeeze.

And we just sat there. We couldn’t see each other. I could just feel his hand in mine and hear the sound of our breathing.

It was like a balm for my broken heart.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. 

“For what?” he murmured.

“For…”

Waking you up. Making you worry. Making you come get me. Snapping at you.

“For being me.”

I felt him tense.

“Now it’s my turn to say stop. Don’t you dare apologize for being who you are, do you understand me?”

The ferocity in his tone practically made me sit up straight.

“I came and got you because you are my friend. Because I love you. I don’t know why you were out there tonight, and you don’t have to tell me. But don't apologize. You needed me. And that’s enough for me.”

Hot, fresh tears slipped down my cheeks.

“I…I was…I couldn’t stop having the nightmares,” I whispered.

“The nightmares?”

“Of dad’s death.”

A sharp inhale. Another squeeze.

“Ave…” he paused. “I…I’m so sorry. I-”

“No, I’m sorry,” I couldn’t stop myself. “I’m sorry I scared you. But you're not supposed to be scared, right? You’re a brave boy, right? He said you were. He said when you feel something a lot, I can feel it too. And I feel it. I hurt you. I scared you. I-”

Light suddenly illuminated the space. I blinked in surprise and shock, temporarily blinded. When my vision adjusted, I saw Chase, his hand on the switch on my bedside lamp.

He was crying.

My soul practically inverted.

I had never seen Chase, full-grown Chase, shed tears.

It shook me to my core.

“Avery,” he murmured, a gentle smile on his face. “Listen to me, please. Yeah, you did scare me. You woke me up. You made me worry. But guess what? I felt worried and scared because I love you. I remember what he said. And I remember what I said. That, when it comes to you, I feel brave. If I can make you feel safe, loved, cared for, or even just okay, then I’ll be as brave as you need me to be. But Ave…I’m human. I didn’t know if you had-”

“Tried to kill myself too? I’ve thought about it.”

I gasped, biting my tongue.

Chase’s eyes instantly filled with horror.

“Don’t say that.”

“I’m sorr-”

“Don’t you ever say that.”

His intensity sparked a flame inside me.

“Why not?” I challenged. “Why not? I thought I could share what I am going through with you.”

“Of course you can,” he retorted, looking frustrated. “But Ave, you can’t just-”

“Why not?” I repeated, growing angrier. “I want to. I think about it more than you know. And you know what? What does it matter to you? Dad did it. He didn’t care. He didn't love me or mom enough to try to let us help. He just decided it was enough. He made that choice. He left me. Did he not stop to think it would practically kill me to never see him again? To live the rest of my life without him, wondering how long he would have lived if he hadn't taken his own life? To know he will never see me grow up, walk me down the aisle at my wedding, be told he is proud of me? Did he even love me? How could he have when he left so easily? Why? Why did he-”

Chase crawled up into my bed beside me and pulled me, snot-nosed, tear-stained, and babbling, into his arms.

I broke down and wept.

And wept.

And wept.

And wept.

And I succumbed to my exhaustion, anchored in the whipping winds of my grief and gut-wrenching pain in Chase's arms.

We were adrift on my bed in a sea of moonlight that spilled in through the once-drawn curtains.