AllFreeNovel
Share Us
When I had these nightmares at home, I had the reassurance of knowing that my brother’s room was right across the hall. Sometimes they would make me scream so loud that I would wake up Jason, who would then run into my room to wake me, saving me from the monster in my dreams.
He would stay with me, sitting on the edge of my bed, and help calm me down. Then, after waiting for me to fall back to sleep, he would go back to his room, always leaving my door open a couple of inches in case it happened again.
Hence one of my many reasons for seeing him as mybigbrother. My whole life, he has always been looking out for me.
Now, standing alone in my room, I realize it is just me and that it will always be this way from now on. There would be no one to wake me up from these horrifying nightmares anymore.
As I continue looking out at the river, a single tear escapes from my eye, and I let it make its way steadily down my cheek. With one last deep breath, I head back to my bed, leaving the window open. I lie down and pull the blankets around my body.
Turning my head to the side, I see the clock on my nightstand showing it is 3 a.m., but I know I won’t be able to fall back to sleep anytime soon. So, I pull the covers off, walk over to my desk, and retrieve my current read. Bringing it over to my bed, I take out the bookmark, flipping the pages to my last spot, when I hear my phone buzz on my nightstand.
I pick it up and see Jason’s name on the screen.
Jason: Can’t sleep. Assuming you’re up too?
Two
NATHAN
IS THIS WHAT DEATH feels like?
I wake up with what can only be described as the worst hangover I’ve ever had. There’s a dull throbbing in my head. My stomach is ready to hurl whatever is inside of me, and my throat feels as dry as the fucking Sahara Desert. Not to mention the excruciating aches running up and down my entire body.
Slowly, I open my eyes, avoiding any direct light, look around, and realize I passed out on someone’s couch. Someone’s very small and uncomfortable couch, explaining the aches in my now incredibly stiff back.
But whose couch?
As I sit up, the events from the night before slowly start to return.
I remember moving into my dorm room yesterday evening. Then my roommate, Steven, convinced me to go out with him and his friend Kevin to a frat party near campus. I figured a few drinks would help me release some tension I had been holding in, so I joined them. That part is all clear to me.
However, what happened the rest of the night is pretty blurry, and my pounding headache isn’t helping the situation.
Scanning the room, I find my blue pullover next to a few people who decided to make the floor their bed. I pick it up and quickly throw it on before any of these people I don’t know wake up, then pull my phone out of my pocket to see it is a few minutes after 1 p.m.
“Shit,” I say quietly. I was supposed to be at the administration building an hour ago to finish picking my classes for the semester.
Hopefully, a pleading email will take care of this.
I walk out the front door and let it thud behind me as I head to my car in the driveway. Getting in the driver’s seat, I glance at my face in the rear view mirror and notice how disheveled I look.
Not my proudest moment.I throw my sunglasses on, turn the keys in the ignition, and get the hell out of here.
* * *
It’s a beautiful, crisp fall day in Boston as I drive back to my dorm room with the car windows rolled all the way down. The cool fresh air feels good on my skin, helping me feel more alive with each passing minute.
I pass by a big vibrant sign for the campus coffee shop, which catches my eye, and decide to make a quick stop. I do a U-turn and park my car next to the little shop.
The line of customers ends at the store’s front door, but I’m in desperate need of some caffeine, so I wait. Finally, after fifteen minutes in line, the overzealous little barista behind the register takes my order and hands me a large black iced coffee.
“Have a great day!” she shouts at me as I turn to leave.
Walking toward the exit, something bright shines directly into my eyes, so I quickly block the glare with my hand. I look around for the light source but realize it’s just a reflection of the sun bouncing off a phone screen sitting on a little table in front of a window. My eyes move up to the person who owns the phone, and that’s when I see her.
“Natalie Spencer,” I say so quietly that only I can hear her name spoken from my lips.
It’sher.
