The Styles Mansion [h.s]

eighty-four

SIX MONTHS LATER

"DO YOU still have those nightmares Venessa?" My psychiatrist asked scrutinising me with her keen and brilliant blue eyes. The low humming of air conditioners flowed in the air, kissing my sensitive skin, rising goosebumps. I kept fiddling with my fingers, since I arrived.

"Not frequently, but sometimes." I swallowed the thick lump down my throat and took a deep breath.

It's been six months since I lost my unborn child and It's been six months, Henson shot himself out of guilt. It's been six months since the false beliefs of Henson's unfolded, estranging away from our lives as also taking Henson with them too. The passing months felt like a dream. A peaceful dream, where no secrets were buried. No unfortunate was revealed one by one, leaving ugly scars of pain.

But it also felt like hell when things would get twisted most of the time. These six months had a two pace, like a coin having two heads and tails.

My nights were robbed away from me. My peace was tainted with screaming and crying. The bright colours of my life were painted black and white. They say, even in darkness you could find peace but what about the line that someone said years ago, that...

'It's hard to find a black cat in a dark room, especially when the cat isn't there.'

When there isn't any, then how are you going to find it?

I think that's when your mind commenced playing mind games with you. The buried personalities appear slowly, unveiling their hidden faces as unleashing their buried emotions. And you are the only one who handles the monster on your own.

Now you would ask, you said six months was like a dream, a peaceful dream.

What about that?

Those six months were peaceful because the person I needed beside me was with me.

Harry.

The love of my life.

Half of mine.

Past months hadn't treated him well as well. He lost his brother. He lost his child and almost lost me.

He never left my side. He stayed beside me like my shadow. For a moment I thought if he wouldn't stay beside me, then I might stop breathing. Nights weren't easy for both of us. He wouldn't sleep and I couldn't sleep. The enthralling and evergreen beauty that bloom season of spring in my cold heart, was barely there. The wide smile that engulfed me like my apricity was just a mere smile. The glossy glee sparkle of mischievous disposition was faded, almost making me cry in misery.

But he didn't break down the way I did.

Then when I realise, men are really stronger than women.

I don't know about other aspects but mentally in my case my man showed the best of his part. I tried my best to share his grief with me. I tried my best not to break like a fragile flower over and over again. Harry felt like an antidote to me. Whenever I would share my nightmares with him, he would come up with an explanation that makes sense in every way.

My nightmares weren't the best ugly part here, it was the worst part. I still remember how real they felt, and how they made me scream bloody murder in my sleep.