Nightmare Factory (Final Part: Chase's POV)

The sound of insistent buzzing filled the room. 

There is absolutely no way it’s 6 AM, I groaned internally as I felt around in the dark for my phone.

It wasn’t my alarm. It was Avery.

And it wasn’t 6 AM.

I immediately tapped the accept call button and put the phone to my ear.

“Ave?” I breathed. “Are you okay?”

“Am I ever?” she laughed, her voice watery. She’d been crying.

“Where are you?” I asked, gripping the phone as I attempted to find the lightswitch in the dark. I knocked my clock and nighttime reading book off of my nightstand in the process, but I finally found the switch. Light flooded my face and blinded me, spotting my eyes with pain.

“At the cemetery,” her quiet reply came.

My eyes snapped open. 

What? Why is she there?

Oh God, did she…?

A chilling thought of her hurting herself snaked its way across my mind.

Why is she there?

Silence.

“What?” I managed to finally work the word out of my mouth, my thoughts a whirl.

“The cemetery,” she repeated, even more softly.

Okay, she’s fine. I don’t know why she’s whispering. Is Tucker with her? I can tell she’s been crying, but if she’s…she’s gotta be okay…

“Are you okay, Ave?” I asked. I was standing now, ready to rip off my shorts and throw on my clothes.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I’m with Tucker.”

“Oh, thank God,” I exhaled. I knew it. Thank God for Tucker. “I’m on my way.”

“Thank you,” she murmured.

I lowered the phone from my ear, about to end the call and attempt to get dressed in less than sixty seconds. Then, I realized something.

I put the phone back to my ear.

“Wait. Ave?”

“Yeah?” she said, a bit of surprise in her voice. I guess she was waiting for me to hang up. 

“Did you freaking walk there?” I asked, picturing her in a stupor, walking in the freezing dark, numb with pain as she made her way to the cemetery.

The call was cut.

I looked at my screen. 

Yup. She hung up on me.

Which means, yup, she walked there.

“Oh, Avery,” I chuckled.

It wasn’t funny.

None of this was funny.

But it was just so…her.

And despite her, I loved her.

I dropped the phone onto my rug, pulled my sleep shorts off, tugged on a pair of snow pants, threw on a thermal shirt and jacket, tugged on my boots, and swiped my car keys from the drawer of my nightstand.

I picked my phone up, turned on its flashlight, turned off my bedroom light, closed my door, and tiptoed my way down the hallway.

Unfortunately, the upper floor of the house was squeaky in some places, and I did not successfully avoid all of the cursed spots. Elliot was an infamously light sleeper, and I hated to wake him.

Jackson is like a bear in hibernation when he sleeps. He could probably sleep through the house getting swallowed by the earth, let alone me attempting to sneak out of it.

I unlocked the front door, slipped out, closed it, and then hightailed it to my Jeep. I yanked the door open, swung into the seat, jammed and turned the key, and quickly backed out of the driveway. 

The moon shone down onto my dash, alighting the interior of the Jeep in a silver glow.

It brought peace to my racecar heart as I wove through the streets, closing the distance to Avery.

-------------

I hopped out of the driver’s seat and shut the door behind me. Awash in my headlights was Tucker’s little brown car, a bundled-up Avery standing by the passenger side. Her eyes shone from having shed tears, and her red hair was tousled and a bit all over the place.

Besides that, she looked fine.

I approached her, attempting to muster a real smile, not one tainted with the worry that was furrowing my brow.

Tucker came around from the driver’s side to greet me.

“Hey there, Chase,” he said, his gruff voice full of warmth.

“Tucker,” I smiled, genuinely, as I embraced his small, yet sturdy form.

“She’s all yours, my friend! Just kept her company and kept her warm,” he said, smiling over at Avery, who looked a bit pink. Her cheeks weren’t just flushed from the cold.

She was embarrassed.

“Thank you for your service,” I replied, saluting Tucker before turning my attention back to Ave.

Scanning her up and down, I couldn’t see any signs of her having done anything to herself. She seemed fine. I felt a cool sense of relief wash over me.

“Hey, you,” I said, wrapping her in a hug. “What’s up?”

“Hi,” she answered, her voice small.

Far away.

Not good.

“Hey,” I whispered into her hair. “Do me a favor? Go get in the Jeep. It’s unlocked, the heat is on. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Okay,” came her muffled reply, her face a bit smushed against my chest.

I was hugging her tighter than I realized.

“Sorry,” I said, letting her go. 

She took a step back, tugging the blanket tighter around her, and smiled up at me.

Her eyes sparkled, both from her past waves of tears and the moonlight. 

To be honest, it nearly took my breath away. 

She stepped past me, crunching her way to the idling Jeep.

I watched her go, along with Tucker, who came to stand beside me.

“Did you have any idea she was planning to come here tonight?” he asked.

“No,” I said, turning my eyes to him. “What happened?”

Was she trying to hurt herself? Did she just need to talk to her dad? What was going through her head?

“I was just out scanning the grounds, and I saw her sitting in front of her dad’s grave,” he replied. 

My heart squeezed with pain.

“She didn’t hear me drive up to her and get out of my car. She was hunched over, sobbing her  eyes out. I heard her…she said something as I walked up. And then I put my hand on her shoulder and she just about died of fright, poor thing.”

“What did she say?”

Tucker shifted uncomfortably.

“Oh,” I immediately uttered. “If she doesn’t want me to kno-”

“She said, ‘Daddy, why did you leave me?’” he said, lowly.

My heart once again felt a stab.

“She did?” I whispered, my eyes falling to my shoes. 

“Yes,” he replied. “When she realized it was me, she just started crying even harder. So I just hugged her. She said she ‘just needed to come here’ tonight. But she was wearing nothing but her sleep clothes, my goodness. She was practically half-frozen. So I got her wrapped up and into my car, and asked her to call you.”

“You asked her?”

“Well, I knew she was going to anyway. But she seemed hesitant.”

She’s afraid, I almost said.

“She’s probably just exhausted,” I replied, forcing a small smile. “She may no longer be half-frozen, but she’s certainly half-asleep.”

“Of course,” he said, nodding slightly. “Well, get her home safe, you hear?”

“Yes sir,” I said, saluting him once more.

He laughed and we shook hands.

“Thanks for looking out for her, Tucker,” I said, nodding at him before turning towards the Jeep.

“Anytime, Chase.”

I smiled at him over my shoulder and turned back towards the Jeep. Avery was curled up in the passenger seat, her eyes on me.

She looked lost.

The instant urge to see her smile came over me. I made a show of strutting up to the Jeep and planting myself square between the headlights. I then put my hands on my hips and shook my head at Avery, trying to fight off the grin that wanted to take over my poor attempt at a serious face.

Her mouth opened and her nose crinkled as she giggled, trying to hide her smile behind her blanket.

I inwardly fist-pumped as I laughed myself and jogged over to the driver’s side.

Okay, she’s laughing. That’s good.

As I pulled myself up into the driver’s seat, it occurred to me that I was tired. The warm air pumping into the space between us felt so good in that moment.

I looked into Avery’s eyes, once again trying to appear gentle.

I knew she wasn’t fully okay. Her distant tone, her small smiles, the way she was trying to appear small.

But she was still smiling from my antics. 

“You ready to go home?” I asked.

Her smile instantly melted away, like freshly fallen snow that doesn’t even stand a chance of sticking. Her demeanor screamed "Please leave me alone."

So, I did.

But only after really looking at her. Her freckles, her eyes, her hair, her blanketed body with her blank expression.

I just needed to know why she was here tonight.

But now was not the time to ask.

“Buckle up, Ave.”

“I already am,” she murmured.

“Ah, couldn't tell beneath all that blanket,” I replied, a tight grin on my face. I put the Jeep in reverse.

As I drove, Avery kept her eyes out her window. 

It was dead silent.

I kept my eyes forward, sweeping the streets, the moon once again illuminating both our path and little corner of the universe.

I knew Avery had been distant lately. I am not one to pry, even when it comes to her. Sometimes I wonder if I should, but I never muster the courage. I wonder if it will only drive her further away, further into herself. 

She isn’t like this, usually. The Avery I know is bright, kind, loving, and affectionate. Alive.

Thriving.

That hasn’t been who I have seen these last few months.

In my worry, I have started to wonder what has shifted. I know the signs of depression. I saw them all in my mom when Angela died.

But Avery’s is different.

I shook myself out of my thoughts, trying to avoid full road hypnosis. We were already on her street.

I slowed the Jeep as we approached the front of her house, pulling up alongside the curb. I quickly turned off the ignition, slid my keys into my pocket as I slipped to the asphalt, shut the door, and briskly walked to Avery’s side. Her silence was freaking me out.

As I went to pull the handle on her door, she came tumbling out and down to the sidewalk, and began to retch.

Panic seared my mind as I watched her in horror.

“Holy shit, Ave, oh my God,” was all that flew from me as I dropped down beside her.

It was dark, so I couldn’t make out what she had just ejected from her body. 

Was it nothing? Just a panic attack?

Was she already nauseous?

Did she take something? 

I squinted. 

No pills.

Nothing discernable.

She heaved, but nothing else came up but bile and spit. She writhed and moaned in pain.

My tongue loosened.

“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,” she snapped.

It was a jab.

I immediately shut up.

A brief pause.

She sniffled.

“Please. Just…stop.”

She took a shuddery breath and tried to stand. I could make out dark marks on her legs and knees. No running blood, but definitely abrasions and soon-to-be bruises. She fell back against the Jeep, never once looking at me. She was panting, her hair wild around her face, wiping at her mouth.

She looked distraught. Exhausted. Drained.

She looked fragile.

I stepped towards her, placing my right hand behind her head, her soft hair brushing my palm. I pulled her gently towards me and off of the car, wrapping my arms around her as she came into contact with me. I placed my chin on top of her head, my nose tickled by her flyaways, and just held her. I felt her press the side of her head to my chest, holding fistfuls of my jacket, almost as if for support.

Then, she wobbled and collapsed.

Instantly, I crouched, scooped her into my arms, one behind her upper back and one behind her knees, and carried her. Bloody, bruised, and a bit covered in barf, I carried her. I fumbled a bit, murmuring an apology to her, as I worked my keys out of my pocket, found hers, and inserted it into the lock. The lock refused to budge until I used a bit of force, further jostling Avery. She didn’t even respond. It was like she went into a coma. Her eyes were open, but she saw nothing. I whispered to her as I crossed the threshold, closed and locked the door behind me, and padded up the stairs. I felt bad wearing my shoes upstairs, but I wasn’t going to attempt to unlace and slip out of my boots while holding her.

I grasped the doorknob of her bedroom and we slipped inside. After using my foot to close the door, I strode to her bathroom door, opened that, and flipped the light on. Avery still seemed stone-cold, so I gently placed her on the lid of the toilet, placing my hands around her cheeks. Her eyes fluttered open.

“Hey,” I smiled. 

She didn’t respond.

I set to cleaning her up. I turned the sink on and let it run, giving the water a chance to warm up. I then ran a washcloth under the stream, using it to wipe the crusted bits of spit and vomit from Avery’s lips, chin, and hair. I lightly wet my hands and swept her hair back from her face.

“I think you're done throwing up, but do you think you can stand to brush your teeth?” I asked.

She blinked.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” I murmured, wetting her toothbrush and squeezing paste onto it.

I handed it to her, and she mechanically received it, beginning to brush her teeth. I sat back on the rim of her bathtub, giving her time and space. I rested my face in my hands, the realization of how tired I felt washing over me. I felt like I was going to nod off when she mumbled, and I looked up. She was fighting to keep all of the foam in her mouth, so I helped her stand and spit into the sink, holding her hair back as she rinsed her mouth and toothbrush, placing it back where it belonged.

Once I had her settled back on the toilet, I went into her bedroom and flicked on the lights. I knew which drawer she kept her sleep clothes in. There was absolutely no way I was going to rummage around for a fresh pair of underwear, but I pulled out her worn purple sweater and fuzzy lavender pants, as well as grabbing her snowflake socks that I gifted her a year ago. These would do.

“Ave? I’m gonna leave these here on the sink, okay? Go ahead and take your time,” I whispered, poking my head into the bathroom and piling the pants, sweater, and socks onto the corner of the counter.

She barely looked at me, but she nodded.

I shut the door and began to pace the room. If I didn’t keep moving, I knew I would knock out. 

It felt like a mini eternity, walking circles in her room, looking at all the pictures she had. There were a few of us, tiny and dirty, beaming down from her treehouse, chasing each other in the park, splashing in a small creek. There was one of her in her high school graduation gown, beaming proudly, holding her diploma and a bouquet of sunflowers aloft. There was one of her as a baby, Marie holding and gazing at her lovingly, and Rory standing behind them, one hand on Marie’s shoulder and the other holding one of Ave’s tiny hands. He was staring straight down at her with the most adoring look in his eyes. I zeroed in on that one, walking up to her dresser where the photo was perched in a small silver frame.

Suddenly, I heard a sob from the bathroom.

I crossed the room and knocked on the door.

“Ave? Are you okay? Are you decent?” I asked, the last question making my cheeks feel hot.

I just continued to hear her cry.

It hurt my heart.

I wriggled the doorknob as a warning, slightly pushing the door ajar. I covered my eyes with my free hand as the door widened, softly meeting resistance, which I guessed was Avery.

“I’m not naked,” she said tersely, moving away from the door, which gave way.

“Oh, good,” I replied, a bit embarrassed.

She was standing on the bathroom rug, dressed in the clothes I had given her. She looked less disheveled, her damp hair drying and her green eyes shining. 

But her expression was stormy.

I was so tired.

But she needed me.

“Ave…” I began, searching for something to say. Ask. State. Anything.

“Chase.”

My name sounded so curt.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes.

“Did you love my dad?”

I looked up sharply, surprised.

Did I love her dad?

Did I love Rory?

My mind floated back to the picture I had just been fixated on. Baby Ave, her two loving parents showing her off to the camera. Her dad, beholding her as if she were the most precious, angelic, beautiful, gorgeous, and mesmerizing treasure he had ever laid eyes on.

Rory.

Rory, the man who was a father to me when my own abandoned me. Rory, who mentored me and gave me guidance, who was there for me like I was his own son. 

Rory, the belly-laugh having, bear-hug giving, bright-eyed smiling role model I looked up to.

The one who gave me my best friend and some of the best memories of my childhood.

Of course I loved him.

I smiled softly at Avery, who stood rigidly, awaiting my response.

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

She blinked, her eyes briefly meeting mine. Then, she lowered herself down to the rug.

She sat there for a moment, a million questions coursing through my body.

“Why?” I managed to ask.

The inquiry filled the space between us.

Something in her face shifted.

Avery snorted, abruptly clambered to her feet, and marched past me, slightly bumping me and swiftly switching off the light as she went. She then shut off her bedroom light, leaving me in the dark. I heard the rumple of her covers.

I sighed again.

I was so tired.

I stood there, leaning against the doorframe, waiting for my eyes to adjust. I could barely make out the shape of her bed frame as I lurched through the inky black to her bedside. I reached out and found the edge of her mattress. Using that as my guide, I lowered myself onto the carpet, and slid my hand across the bed until I felt her under the covers. I slipped my hand under the sheet and made contact with her wrist. She then slipped her hand down, pushing her fingers into the spaces between mine.

I internally breathed a sigh of relief, and I held her hand. Her slender fingers were soft. I squeezed them as gently as I could.

She squeezed back.

And then we just stayed there. I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against the edge of the mattress. I was kneeling, almost as if in prayer, holding her hand, the sound of our breathing the only noise in the room.

But there was a clashing and clamoring chaos in my brain.

I still had no idea what the hell was going on.

Why was she out there? Why did she walk? Why was she acting this way? Why did she change? Why did she throw up? Is she okay? 

“I’m sorry.”

Her voice was muted, laden with sleepiness.

“For what?” 

“For being me,” she replied.

My brow furrowed and I sat up, feeling a sudden burst of…frustration? Irritation? Anger?

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

I felt Avery jolt.

A pain came over me, but I kept going.

“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.”

I meant it.

Avery sat up, scooting back away from me.

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

Her voice was awash in emotion. Pure sadness.

She was crying once more.

“The nightmares?” 

We were getting somewhere.

She hesitated.

“Of dad’s death,” she finally whispered.

A few dots connected in my head. She was at the cemetery to visit her dad’s grave. She went there alone, in the cold, barely clothed. She walked over thirty minutes to get there, according to the estimates I had quickly checked on my GPS. According to Tucker, she had been curled up, sobbing, asking herself ‘Daddy, why did you leave me?’ 

The photo filled my mind’s eye.

Poor Avery.

I came back to the moment and inhaled sharply, squeezing her hand once more. Despite her sitting up and moving away, she hadn’t let go.

A sharp inhale. Another squeeze.

“Ave…” I trailed off. I really didn’t know what to say. “I…I’m so sorry. I-”

“No, I’m sorry,” she suddenly blurted, ripping her hand from mine.

That stung.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” she continued, her voice growing frantic. “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-”

I couldn’t see her. All I could hear was the pain in her voice, the fear. I couldn’t take it. I felt tears of my own brimming, then spilling down my cheeks. 

I hadn’t cried in what felt like forever.

I felt for Avery’s nightstand, quickly searching for the lamp. Gripping its base with the hand Avery had let go of, I used the other to pinch and twist the knob. I once again was blinded and Avery slightly yelped. 

I kept my hands there, feeling as if I was going to throttle the lamp. I continued to cry, and once my eyes adjusted to the light, they met Avery’s.

She looked horrified.

I realized she had not seen me cry in years. Maybe when we were kids a few times. Maybe at Rory’s funeral.

Those two lanes of thought crossed, and I began to recall a memory.

When we were little. Avery and I. In the treehouse, Rory suddenly appearing, the both of us falling back. Avery had delivered a wickedly brutal jab to my ribs, and it took everything in me to not have a full-on meltdown. I didn’t want to cry because I didn’t want her to feel bad. She hadn’t meant it. Avery doesn’t mean to hurt me. Avery doesn’t mean to hurt anyone. It’s not in her nature.

But now…

“Avery,” I murmured, willing a smile to cross my 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," she snarled.

I felt like I had gotten punched in the gut.

Another dot connected. The most terrifying of them all.

So she was going to hurt herself. Or at least she was thinking about it…

How could I be so blind?

“Don’t say that.”

Now I was angry.

Angry at myself. 

Angry at her.

She looked mortified.

“I’m sorr-”

I cut her off.

“Don’t you ever say that,” trying to not raise my voice. Marie was sleeping.

Her eyes grew dark.

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

“Of course you can,” I returned, frustration edging into my tone. “But Ave, you can’t just-”

“Why not?” she repeated, urgency rising as her eyes searched mine. “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-”

So that was it.

She had all of this churning inside of her.

Can’t you see how loved you are?

I immediately crawled onto the bed, and pulled her into my lap, encircling her in my arms.

And she cried.

Sobbed.

Wept.

And I just held her. Held her. Held her.

I closed my eyes.

-------------

When I awoke, I was on my back. The lamp was still on, so as I groggily blinked, I made out a sleeping Avery sprawled across my chest. Her cheek was pressed against my shoulder, her mouth slightly agape as she breathed rhythmically. She was out.

My head hurt and my mouth was dry. I could feel the crusted remains of my tears in the corners of my eyes.

I needed to go home.

As carefully as I could, I slid out from under Ave. She did not stir as I settled her into the center of her bed, her head on her pillow and blankets tucked around her. I found my phone in my pocket, turned off the lamp, and tapped the flashlight on. 

I stood, stretched, and adjusted my clothes, zipping my jacket back up. I paused there for a moment, watching her sleep.

I don’t know what came over me.

God, if you’re real, please protect her. Please give her sweet dreams. Please take away these nightmares. 

Please. She deserves it.

I blinked, attempting to fan off the pinpricks of tears from my eyes.

I crossed the room, slipped through the door, closed it behind me, and retraced my steps back, locking the front door to Avery’s house before once again setting off in my Jeep, back to my house.

I blasted the AC, fighting the siren call of sleep, keeping my eyebrows raised so my eyes wouldn’t close.

In twenty minutes, I was home.

I killed the ignition, slid out of my seat, locked the car manually to avoid the loud beep, and shuffled up to the front door.

I was practically a zombie.

As I stepped into the living room of my own house, I was blinded for the third time in the last five-ish hours.

I moaned aloud as a prim voice met my ears.

“And where were you?”

My soul just about exited my body.

Elliot.

Sure enough, there he was, reclining in our big brown chair, a book now in his lap, one eyebrow cocked over his reading glasses.

Good ‘ol Elliot.

“I was…I had to take care of something,” I replied, defeated.

“More like someone,” Elliot corrected, not questioned.

“Yeah.”

“Avery?”

“Yeah.”

“You tired?”

“Yeah.”

“Then go to sleep,” Elliot ordered, pushing the footrest down and locking it into place. He stood and snatched up his book, turning off the light.

He headed towards the hallway to return to his room.

“Why were you up?” I asked.

He stopped, looking over his shoulder.

“Because I heard you leave,” he replied, matter-of-factly. 

Those damn squeaky spots.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, my eyes sinking to the traitorous floor.

“Was she okay?”

I looked up. Elliot was now fully turned around, a concerned look on his face.

That was rare.

“Who? Avery?” 

“Is that not who you went to see?” Elliot replied, a touch of annoyance in his voice.

“Yeah,” I smiled sheepishly.

“Ah, back to that standard reply. So, we are on the same track,” he quipped. “Was Avery okay?”

“No. But then she was. She’s asleep.”

Elliot stood, processing my response. He looked like he had more questions he wanted to ask, but instead, he nodded slightly.

“Good. Are you okay?” he asked, looking me up and down.

I was bedraggled, bewildered, and bone-tired.

“Yeah,” I said weakly.

“Good. Then, good night,” Elliot said curtly, spinning back to continue his return to his room.

“Night,” I murmured, trailing behind him to my room, not bothering to avoid the treacherous tattletail tiles this time.

I made a pit stop by the restroom to rinse my face in the dark. The lukewarm water soothed my snow-nipped skin and swept away the tear stains. It was heavenly.

Once I made it back to my room, I tugged my boots off, plugged my phone back into the charger, discarded my jacket, pants, and shirt on the floor, and collapsed into bed in just my boxers and socks.

The cool sanctuary of my covers filled me with peace. Using my last ounce of energy, I tapped out a text to Avery.

We both fell asleep. I went home, and I’m in bed now. I’m gonna knock out, so good night. I pra-

I stopped myself. I deleted those three letters. 

I hope that you have-

I stopped again.

It didn’t feel right.

I fussed around a bit, typing and deleting, deleting and typing.

Then, I just gave in and went with my gut.

We both fell asleep. I went home, and I’m in bed now. I’m gonna knock out, so good night. I prayed that you have sweet dreams, so let me know in the morning what you dreamed of, if you do at all. I promise to do my best to always be there for you. I hope you know that if I lost you, I would never be the same. So, don’t. Don’t go, okay? Talk to me. Your dad loved you, Ave. And if you don’t believe me, go look at that photo you have of you as a baby with your parents. The one on your dresser. Really look at it. For me. For Rory. Can you do that for me? Sleep well, Ave. I love you.

And not a second after I tapped ‘send,’ my phone slipped to my chest and I slipped away.

I dreamed of Ave.

The little daisy headband she had on in that baby picture now encircled her red, goldish locks, her sea-glass green eyes alight as she ran away from me, calling out to me, begging her to chase her.

Chase me, Chase. Chase me.

We were in a field of sunflowers, bursting with life.

Just like her.

Just like she used to be.

♥