Chapter 6 The Nightmares

“All the dreams I dream are nightmares and those nightmares are the ones I live.” ~~~ Anastasia’s POV “Ana, come here,” the man said, “Leave me alone,” I screamed. “And why should I listen to you?” The voice asked, moving close to me. “I’ll report you to the cops, don’t come any closer.” I threatened. “Go ahead and try, we will see who they will believe,” he said with a wicked smile. He suddenly pulled me closer to himself. I could smell cheap alcohol and cigarettes on his breath which made me feel nauseous. “Please let go,” I said in tears with my lips trembling. “Not after I’m done,” he said, pushing me on the bed in the room. “Please don’t do this,” I said, crying profusely but all my pleas turned on deaf ears. Suddenly, I jolt awake, gasping for air. My heart races, pounding in my chest. Hot sweats drench my skin. I’m having this same dream again. I sit up quickly, disoriented, my surroundings blurry. The clock reads 3:47 AM. I turned to see my mum stir beside me. I hope I didn’t scream in the dream. I don't want to wake her up. I throw off the covers and swing my legs over the side of the bed, feet planted firmly on the ground. I can feel my heart beating faster than the usual pace. “Breathe, I tell myself. You're safe now, no one will hurt you here.” I muttered to myself with my hands folded together in the center. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I confront the darkness that still haunts me. I thought I was getting over this. I thought I had outgrown this. I guess receiving that call earlier had messed with my brain. Why won't he leave me alone? Hasn’t he ruined my life enough? What does he want from us? I take slow, deliberate breaths, attempting to calm my racing mind. But the fear and anxiety linger, refusing to disappear. I get out of bed, seeking distraction. A glass of water or something just needs something to calm my nerves. I doubt I can go back to bed again. I’m scared I might have that terrifying dream again and it’s not even morning yet so I can’t go to work either. Maybe I should beg the manager to put me on a permanent night shift because I doubt I’ll be able to sleep properly at night again. I took out a bottle of water from the fridge and down half of it in a gulp. I sat down on stool in our small kitchen But the memory of his touch, his voice, remains. A constant reminder of the past I desperately try to escape. I really don’t like thinking about everything that has happened in the past but I can’t help it, it is so hard on me but I mastered living with it since it seems to be a part of me already. My mind is racing with thoughts, worries, and anxieties that refuse to let me sleep. Suddenly, I hear the familiar creak of the door opening. It’s my mother, I guess she figured I wasn’t beside her anymore. Her cane taps softly against the floor as she tries to make out where I was seated. I know she's coming to check on me, even though she can't see me but she can feel my presence and she tells me she smells me. “Mum, why are you up?” I asked standing up to meet her. “What's wrong, Bambito?” She asks, her voice laced with concern. I hesitate, unsure of how to respond. I don't want to burden her with my troubles, and besides, I'm not even sure I can put them into words. So I say nothing. The silence hangs between us like a heavy curtain. My mother's ears are as clear as day since her sight isn’t working perfectly, it’s as if her clear hearing is a compensation for her lack of sight. She listens for the slightest tremble in my voice, the softest sigh, she can even hear my heart beating fast. “Anastasia, why aren’t you sleeping?” She asked, her voice gentle but insistent. “Something's bothering you. Tell me please.” I still say nothing, trying to filter my thoughts to calm down. I know she won’t back off till she gets it out of me. “Are you sure everything's okay?” She asks again, her tone softening. “Sí, mama, everything is fine. You don’t have to worry, I guess my insomnia is coming back, that's all,” I responded, trying to put her mind at rest. But she doesn't believe me. She knows me too well. She takes a step closer, her hands extended, seeking reassurance. “Bambito , you can tell me. Whatever it is, we'll face it together. Are you having those nightmares again?” She asked. My mum knew about my nightmare in the past and it worried her so much and I won’t want her worried again. “No mama, it’s the insomnia coming back. I stopped having those nightmares years ago,” I told her quickly. “Are you sure?” She asked again obviously knowing I’m lying. “Yes mama, you worry too much.” I said. My mum worried about everything, that's why I didn’t tell her he called. She must not know about it. “Hmmm, okay. I won’t push it,” she said. “Thanks mama,” I replied, squeezing her hands that are still holding me. Her words wrap around me like a warm hug. I feel a lump form in my throat as I struggle to hold back tears. Maybe I should tell her. Maybe sharing my burdens would lighten the weight but I know better, I know it’ll weigh her down. For now, I just nod, hoping she'll understand. She holds my hand in the darkness and gives it a gentle squeeze back. “Let’s go back to bed,” she said, as we pulled away from the hug. “I don’t think I can go back to sleep, it’ll be morning soon anyways so I better start preparing for work early.” I said. “It’s too early Anastasia, it’s not like your work permits you to close early,” she complained. “Actually mum, I’m thinking I should stick to the permanent night shift.” I said, scratching my head knowing fully well she’ll be against it. “Why would you do that?” She asked. “I heard they pay staff on night duty a lot more and come with huge tips too.” I said, knowing fully well that’s not the reason. “But you know….” She hadn't completed her sentence when we heard a knock on our door. I shook under my mom’s hands and fear gripped me immediately. Who could be knocking in the middle of the night?