My eyes took a moment to
adjust to the darkness. I was in Ryder’s old childhood bed. Under his
covers. My hand reached down to my stomach, feeling the small roundness. I’m okay. It was all a dream. Just a dream.
Eva touched my arm. Just a small touch to remind me that she was
there. Over the last few weeks, she had become more like herself but I
knew she was still hurting. I could see it in her eyes when she thought
no one was watching. When she spoke, I could hear it in her voice, a
voice that no longer sounded like a confident woman but of a girl lost.
Afraid.
Most nights, she was beside me when I had nightmares. They were all
the same - Ryder dying and me trying to save him. Each time he died and
each time I woke up crying.
Lying back down, I pulled the covers up to my chin. My heart raced
out of control, tears threatening to choke me. I concentrated on the
darkness in the room, bringing myself back under control.
One of Eva’s socked feet touched my leg, her toes nudging my calf,
reminding me that I wasn’t alone.
When her nightmares started, I crawled into bed with her, holding her
close as she cried. She didn’t want Brody beside her, only me. After a
time, it just made sense to share a bed with her. The dropping
temperatures made it impossible to heat the entire house so we only
heated the rooms we needed. The men bedded down in the living room,
sharing the heat from the fireplace, while Janice and Roger slept in
their room.
Eva and I shared Ryder’s old room. Our heat came from a makeshift
heater that Brody had made using a steel drum. It was turned on its side
with a door cut and hinged on one end and a semi-truck exhaust for a
flue on the other. Using firewood or whatever else we could find to
burn, we tried to keep the fire going long into the night but we always
woke up to a cold room in the morning.
“You were crying out for Ryder again,” Eva whispered next to
me.
I glanced over at her and snuggled deeper under the blankets. “It
was the same dream. He was shot and I watched him die. I held him while
he took his last breath,” I said, gripping the covers so tightly that
my fingernails left indentations in my palm. “I just wish the
nightmares would go away.”
“I don’t think they’ll ever go away,” Eva said. “I want to
forget too but I just can’t.”
“I don’t want to forget. I want to dream about Ryder every night
but not like that,” I said, tears building in my eyes.
“I never want to dream again,” Eva whispered.
“Maybe if you talked about it…you’ve never said what
happened,” I said, watching as she picked at the ends of her hair.
“You’ve always been able to tell me anything, Eva.”
She glanced away uneasily. “I can’t talk about it, Maddie.”
I turned to lie on my side, facing her. I couldn’t see the details
of her face. Only her silhouette.
“Did they hurt you?” I asked.
She wiped away her tears quickly, the movement full of self-loathing.
Eva hated to cry. She saw it as a form of weakness, saying weak women
cried, strong women got up and did something about it. If only we
could.
I waited for her to answer my question but she didn’t. She was
shutting me out again.
I let out a deep breath. “It’s okay, Eva. You don’t have to
tell me anything.”
I closed my eyes and prayed I could sleep without having another
nightmare. Just one night without images of Ryder dying,
please. The chill in the room made me shiver as my eyelids grew
heavier. I was almost asleep when she spoke.
“They beat us, Maddie.”
I opened my eyes, sleep suddenly disappearing.
“Every single day they beat us. We ate stale bread and water.
Nothing else. And when they let us sleep, it was only for one or two
hours at a time.”
“Oh, Jesus,” I said, my voice breaking.
“Yeah, well, he wasn’t around much,” she said
sarcastically.
“I’m sorry Eva.”
She huffed and turned on her side, facing away from me.
adjust to the darkness. I was in Ryder’s old childhood bed. Under his
covers. My hand reached down to my stomach, feeling the small roundness. I’m okay. It was all a dream. Just a dream.
Eva touched my arm. Just a small touch to remind me that she was
there. Over the last few weeks, she had become more like herself but I
knew she was still hurting. I could see it in her eyes when she thought
no one was watching. When she spoke, I could hear it in her voice, a
voice that no longer sounded like a confident woman but of a girl lost.
Afraid.
Most nights, she was beside me when I had nightmares. They were all
the same - Ryder dying and me trying to save him. Each time he died and
each time I woke up crying.
Lying back down, I pulled the covers up to my chin. My heart raced
out of control, tears threatening to choke me. I concentrated on the
darkness in the room, bringing myself back under control.
One of Eva’s socked feet touched my leg, her toes nudging my calf,
reminding me that I wasn’t alone.
When her nightmares started, I crawled into bed with her, holding her
close as she cried. She didn’t want Brody beside her, only me. After a
time, it just made sense to share a bed with her. The dropping
temperatures made it impossible to heat the entire house so we only
heated the rooms we needed. The men bedded down in the living room,
sharing the heat from the fireplace, while Janice and Roger slept in
their room.
Eva and I shared Ryder’s old room. Our heat came from a makeshift
heater that Brody had made using a steel drum. It was turned on its side
with a door cut and hinged on one end and a semi-truck exhaust for a
flue on the other. Using firewood or whatever else we could find to
burn, we tried to keep the fire going long into the night but we always
woke up to a cold room in the morning.
“You were crying out for Ryder again,” Eva whispered next to
me.
I glanced over at her and snuggled deeper under the blankets. “It
was the same dream. He was shot and I watched him die. I held him while
he took his last breath,” I said, gripping the covers so tightly that
my fingernails left indentations in my palm. “I just wish the
nightmares would go away.”
“I don’t think they’ll ever go away,” Eva said. “I want to
forget too but I just can’t.”
“I don’t want to forget. I want to dream about Ryder every night
but not like that,” I said, tears building in my eyes.
“I never want to dream again,” Eva whispered.
“Maybe if you talked about it…you’ve never said what
happened,” I said, watching as she picked at the ends of her hair.
“You’ve always been able to tell me anything, Eva.”
She glanced away uneasily. “I can’t talk about it, Maddie.”
I turned to lie on my side, facing her. I couldn’t see the details
of her face. Only her silhouette.
“Did they hurt you?” I asked.
She wiped away her tears quickly, the movement full of self-loathing.
Eva hated to cry. She saw it as a form of weakness, saying weak women
cried, strong women got up and did something about it. If only we
could.
I waited for her to answer my question but she didn’t. She was
shutting me out again.
I let out a deep breath. “It’s okay, Eva. You don’t have to
tell me anything.”
I closed my eyes and prayed I could sleep without having another
nightmare. Just one night without images of Ryder dying,
please. The chill in the room made me shiver as my eyelids grew
heavier. I was almost asleep when she spoke.
“They beat us, Maddie.”
I opened my eyes, sleep suddenly disappearing.
“Every single day they beat us. We ate stale bread and water.
Nothing else. And when they let us sleep, it was only for one or two
hours at a time.”
“Oh, Jesus,” I said, my voice breaking.
“Yeah, well, he wasn’t around much,” she said
sarcastically.
“I’m sorry Eva.”
She huffed and turned on her side, facing away from me.
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