XIV: Love Is An Open Door

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Chapter 14: Love Is An Open Door

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An Original Short Story

By TheBirdWhoCannotFly

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Jamie's POV

Adrian screamed, begging for release. The man in the padded uniform viciously tore at his skin with a knife so sharp and so much coordination. Tears dripped down my face. My sobs bounced off the underground walls. I couldn't look. Every time I would even glance, a piece of my heart would die and my chest would rumble with an earthquake of sobs. Adrian's screams sounded so pain filled. If Hell were real, this would be it. 

He'd yell for them to stop. His pleads to die went unheard. The screeches of terror lasted for God knows how long. It wasn't until the knife stopped slicing his skin and was plunged into his throat the screams stopped. The only thing that was heard was my intense, puke inducing crying that was beginning to sound a lot more like screams.

I bolted up. A cold sweat slicked across my skin as my chest rose and fell raggedly. Stress taught my muscles. These night terrors were getting completely out of hand. Tears traveled slowly down my face. Apparently, I'd been crying in my sleep. The mental image of a knife getting shoved into Adrian's throat would forever stain my subconscious.

I rubbed my hands over my face to rid the droplets. Deciding I needed to see Adrian today, it was certain I had to put my worries that he was hurt to rest. For now, at least. I knew the next time I went to sleep, a new night terror would eject me from reality and into my worst fear. These started out to be just a few nightmares of a gas-mask, now they had grown to full out night terrors where people I loved were being mutilated before my very eyes. Maybe I needed that therapy...

Suddenly, there was a knock on my door. 

"Yeah?" I called out, the sleep still dragging my voice down. The door opened to my mum in her dressing gown.

"Hun, are you alright? I heard you bustling about in here. You were making some whining noises and I wanted to make sure you were okay."  She said as her eyes scanned over the room. It was messier than usual in here. Stuff I had mistakenly placed on my dresser next to my bed was strewn all across the floor. The same as my duvet and pillows. The sheet that was supposed to cover my mattress was balled up at my feet. Rubbing my hands over my face, I turned to reply.

"Yeah. I'm fine, Mum. Just a bad dream. Nothing to worry over." I attempted to smile reassuringly. It probably looked more like some kind of grimace.

"Jamie, you know you can talk to me about anything. Right?" She said, looking at me as though she knew I was not okay. Not in the slightest. As much as I could grab her by the shoulders, cry, and tell her that I needed mental help, I knew it would only do worse. Maybe. She'd probably send me to an insane asylum. Are there still asylums around? If there are, I'd definitely be headed there. She certainly didn't understand the severity of my emotional and mental trauma. No one, except the detectives who got a hold of my notebook and the other kids who were there, knows anything about Purgatory. It was not something you just share. 

"Of course." I mumbled half-heartily. She had to have known I wasn't really planning on it because she cast me a crestfallen look before slowly shutting my door. I felt bad for letting my mum feel like I didn't trust her, but it's not just her. I don't talk to anyone about it. Not even Adrian. He knew I had nightmares from time to time, but little did he know things had gotten worse. So much worse.

Did you really expect things to get better?

I hoped...

Hope is a stupid waste of time.

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