Highway Part 27

Highway Chapter 17

 

            I woke up to her screaming. The loudest, most savage and terrified screech I had ever heard came from Veronica’s room. I rushed to her door, figuring the worst. Had someone come in while I was sleeping? But I was such a light sleeper.

“Veronica!” I yelled through the door, knocking rapidly.

She didn’t answer. I tried the handle but the door was jammed. Stepping back, I ran into it with my shoulder, busting it wide open. I searched the room for the reason for her distress. But nobody was there. Veronica was still in bed, but just barely.

She was thrashing around violently, throwing off her blankets. Her hair was slicked against her head, as well as her clothes. She had the most pained expression I had ever seen on her face as she writhed in bed. Was she having another nightmare? This was nothing like the other night. She was screaming words now.

“Don’t you touch him! Get away! Stop!” She screamed.

Deeply concerned, I rushed over to her. Shaking her, I called out her name. She wasn’t responding, still trapped inside a monstrous nightmare.

“Veronica!” I yelled.

She was struggling, and so I put her face in my hands, leaning close enough to her ear she could hear me even through sleep.

“Veronica!”

I shook her shoulder again. She bolted upright, flinching away from me. She shrieked at me not to touch her. What had she been dreaming about? Gently putting me hands on either side of her face, I pulled her close to me. She struggled to get away, but I kept her close.

“It’s me! Look!” I hushed her, telling her it was just me several times.

She stopped, clearing her vision. Suddenly, she lurched into me, encircling her arms around my waist with an iron grip. She cried my name, burying her face into my chest.

I asked her if she had another nightmare, despite knowing the answer. She withdrew her hands, nodding weakly.

“Oh, baby girl.” I sighed.

Here was the girl I had been with for a week, the toughest girl around, crying desperately. It broke my heart. She had told me no nicknames, but she was my baby girl. She had become so important to me in such a small amount of time. Yet here she was, hurting. And I couldn’t do anything about it. I tried to get a look at her, but she wouldn’t budge.

“It’s just a dream,” I soothed, hoping to make her see she was safe.

She told me it wasn’t. Confused, I just held her and waited. I could feel the wetness of her tears drench my shirt, but it didn’t really matter. I would be here for her any way I could.

When she lessened her hold on me, I pulled her back to look her in the eye.

“What happened?” I asked, determined to be strong for her.

This was when my life changed. She told me about her family, the ones she didn’t remember. She spoke of her brother, and I wondered why she was crying with such a happy tale. But then she spoke of her father and mother, and one fateful night. She said it all, her voice distorted and broken.

She was shattered, and I didn’t know how to pick up the pieces. I was stunned into silence, shocked by her tale. I had seen a lot of violence in my time, but I have never heard of something so graphic and traumatizing. 

I was angry, for no person deserved that, especially not her. But seeing her now, splintered and empty, it tore up my heart. I felt a part of myself explode with pain, correlating directly to hers. She was my baby, but she was crushed, and I didn’t think I could help her this time. Her sorrow became my sorrow, her melancholy affecting us both. My vision began to blur, and I realized I was crying.

I hadn’t cried since I found the path, for there wasn’t anything to be truly sad about. But something about Veronica had changed me, and she had claimed a part of my heart as her own. She looked up at me, surprised I was weeping too. We could both feel the salty warmth come down our faces, and it connected us.

I pulled her close once more, apologizing over and over again. She asked me why, and I told her she didn’t deserve it. I had known life to be very cruel, but never like this. She cried for hours, clenching and unclenching my shirt. I rubbed her back and ran my fingers through her hair. This was the only thing I could do for her, and so I would.

She made some remark about being the cause of her brother’s death. Incredulous and bewildered, I told her that wasn’t true. She came back at me, biting out that it was, and that I shouldn’t try to protect her or I would be next. What had gotten into her? She was making ridiculous statements. She was blaming herself because she didn’t know what else to do, but it was not correct in any sense. She said it again, quietly.

Thinking this was getting out of hand, I marched towards her. She backed away until she ran into the wall, and I leaned over her. She had just experienced a violent dream so I was worried she was scared, but she trusted me enough to know I wasn’t going to harm her. J

ust like the first day we met, I made direct and up close eye contact with her. Summoning all of the sternness I could muster, I told her she was in no way responsible for his death, and to never say such a horrible thing again. Chastised, she looked away.

“Look at me,” I requested softly.

She didn’t, so I hooked my fingers under her chin and gently turned her face towards me. I asked if she really truly believed she killed him. She looked as if she were about to agree, and then faltered as our eyes met again. She turned away, and I knew she didn’t really believe it. She just had nobody else to blame but herself.

I swept back the sweaty hair from her face. She leaned in again, and wrapped her arms around my neck. It wasn’t in fear or sadness, merely because she wanted to. I led her to bed, thinking it beneficial for her to lie down. As I turned to get her blankets, she caught my hand.

She asked me if I could stay with her tonight, stuttering. My heart beat painfully, and I told her that I would. I had no intention of leaving her, perhaps not another night ever again, but especially not on this one. I would be here until she decided to leave.

I carefully positioned myself against the headboard, trying not to jostle Veronica. She laid her head against my shoulder, and I tucked her under my arm. I placed my head on top of hers, listening to her breaths get progressively calmer.

She asked me the date, and I replied. She told me it had happened ten years go to this day, and I held her just a little tighter. She asked me why she couldn’t remember her brother’s name. I didn’t know, but usually repressed memories came back in time. I told her I was sure she would remember in eventually, because it seemed they both loved each other very much. She nodded.

She told me she was scared to sleep, and so I started to hum a lullaby. Realizing a bit too late it was the one she had been singing the night of her nightmare, I expected the worst. But no outburst came, no tears were shed.

After a while, she began to grow limp. I was worried about her dreams, but her eyelids simply fluttered and closed peacefully. If she did have a nightmare, I would be there to wake her up before it even got remotely serious.

Expecting Julian to be late, I guessed we could lie like this until about eight. That would give Veronica four hours of sleep, and anybody could tell she needed it.

I looked at her and I was sad, for I could only think of her leaving me when she awakened. It wouldn’t be out of spite, but drifters just didn’t generally stay close to anyone. I would wish her happy travels with a smile on my face, but I would always remember and have a place for her in my heart.

For now though, she was here. She was with me in the moment, and that was all that needed to be focused on. I would help her while I could, and enjoy her company as much as possible. With that thought in mind and a sleeping girl tucked under my arm, I let myself drift asleep.

I woke up when the sun rose, but didn’t stir. Veronica lay peacefully. She had somehow ended up snuggled on my lower thigh, her sleeping form stretched out. Her feet were hanging off of the bed, and I repressed a laugh.

The sun streaming through the windows cast a soft glow on her form, her messy hair creating a halo around her face. Even with mildly puffy eyes and exhaustion written on her face, she was still achingly beautiful to me. She was sleeping soundly now, even looking peaceful. Perhaps she was done with the nightmares now that she had remembered. I hoped with all my might that this was the truth.

The city’s roar served as background noise, but I could mostly hear the birds chirping outside the window. Oftentimes we would flock to nature and animals, and they would do the same to us. There is no greater gift in life than connecting to nature all around you. It is what makes us whole.

To my surprise, right around 7, Veronica stirred. I froze, concerned I had awoken her. She shifted, and then opened her eyes sleepily.

“Matt?” she asked, blearily looking around.

She seemed to take a moment to remember what happened last night. Her cheeks flushed, her face turning red. Why was she embarrassed?

“Did I? Did I fall asleep on you and stay that way all night?” she asked awkwardly.

She thought that I was going to treat her differently because of last night.

“Yeah,” I replied, “But I slept on you all night too.”

She looked really uncomfortable now, for she had never expressed such emotion to anyone before. She had faced serious repercussions for displays of far less.

“Veronica,” I said, “Nothing is different, okay? Stop looking like you did something mortifying.”

She seemed unsure, so I decided I would just have to show her throughout the day. I stretched, and told Veronica we should get ready.

“Julian is always late. If there’s a time for something, he’s going to be late. I would expect him to come by around 8:30. He’s one of my best friends, but sometimes that man is just so irritating.”

She stifled a laugh, and it was good to see she still could smile. When I looked at her eyes, they were infinitely sadder, and it sent a pang through my heart. But somehow, she still managed to smile. I marveled at her strength, especially for one who didn’t know what to do with her emotions.

Packing our stuff, we lazed around on the balcony. I made a coffee run, and we were drinking it while we felt the cool breeze blow through our hair.

The city was already bustling, but it was generally quiet, for a lot of the inhabitants were still sleeping. Veronica and I were passing the time by telling each other silly jokes. Soon, our laughter filled the little balcony. Veronica seemed to pep up a little bit now that she had caffeine and stupid puns in her system.