Page 27 of Imbalanced Minds

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Page 27 of Imbalanced Minds

Chapter Fifteen

Cory

The jostling of sheets and limbs startle me awake. I quickly untangle myself from the blankets then reach for the lamp to get a visual of the severity of Iris’ nightmare.

For a few seconds, silence fills the room before screamed “no’s” take me by surprise, followed by more thrashing about.

Knowing how bad nightmares can be, I try not to startle Iris awake. Gently whispering her name, I stay out of her way, so she won’t unknowingly hurt me.

My whispering doesn’t seem to have any effect, so I raise my voice ever so slightly, in hope she’ll come out of whatever trance she’s stuck in.

A chorus of “Iris” is repeated from my tongue as I speak louder with every attempt; luck would have it with a little added tap to her shoulder, she finally wakes up.

Gasping for air and wincing from pain, Iris looks around her bedroom, eyes wide in panic. Keeping my tone calm and quiet I further my attempts trying to soothe her of her petrified state.

“Baby girl, shh, you’re with me. You’re safe. No one can hurt you here.”

I move slowly and ease her into my arms, surrounding her with as much strength as I can give in a situation like this. It doesn’t take a scientist to know those nightmares—or terrors—were the outcome of her attack. She was warned this might happen but once again the stubbornness won out and she ignored any warning signs of PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder).

As I think back to what the doctors once describe to me and the many symptoms of this disorder, I keep my soothing tone in place and gently brush my hand through Iris’ hair. Eventually decreasing the fear, making way for the torrent of other emotions yet to come.

Easing us back to lying side by side, I bring Iris as close to me as possible so I can hold her. As much as I’d love to take her pain and memories away, I know damn well the subconscious won’t allow it.

Laying here listening to Iris break before me is Hell, but it’s all I can do, even if it kills me.

Eventually, her sobs turn to heavy breaths and her body weight against mine turns to lead. I know then she’s finally fallen back to sleep. The only question left is, can I?

Spending the rest of the night on alert left me wide-eyed and exhausted.

Iris managed to sleep through the rest of the night, yet her tossing and turning was evidence her nightmares were trying to take charge once again.

Taking note of the time, I regretfully leave her to rest.

As I stealthily make my way through the hallway in search of my morning cup of coffee, something on the wall stops me abruptly. Hanging amongst an array of other photo frames sits a photo of her and I from my graduation. I’ve never seen this photo before; I only remember the group photo. This one was captured unaware. Iris is looking up at me with eyes sparkling full of admiration, her smile infectious yet if you look closely enough, she’s biting her full, rosy bottom lip. “Damn, Angel.”

I then look to myself. My body language screams dominance. My jaw is set, but not in an angry way; it looks as if I’m suppressing my need for her and my eyes are staring directly at hers. If it was anyone else looking at this photo, they wouldn’t be seeing it the way I am now. No, to anyone it looks like two friends joking around, not a girl flirting with her brother’s best friend. It had to be Nat who took this; if I remember rightly, it was her taking photos that day.

Mentally noting down to get that photo later, I continue making my way to the kitchen. While making a fresh pot, I stare out the window while it brews. Unfortunately, the view isn’t as nice here as it is from my place. I get carried away daydreaming when the smell of fresh caffeine fills the air, which brings me back to the task at hand. Fuelling up.

Drinking the scolding black liquid as I walk isn’t the best idea, but I resemble a dead man walking so it’s necessary. My other option is to become a real-life zombie and we all know people with their fix is a much happier ending.

I place my mug on the table then make myself comfortable on the couch and turn the TV on. I don’t remember what programme I selected as I instantly drift off.

I’m awoken with a start not being able to breathe through my nose. What the fuck just happened? Looking around, I find Iris standing behind the couch giggling into her hands.

“I had to see if you were truly asleep. Sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”

“So, you blocked my fucking nose? Do you not think that if I had my eyes closed, I might actually be sleeping?” I ask, slightly irritated.

“Sorry.” She says again, shying away from me.

Not particularly liking this frightened reaction she has toward me, I get up and lean over the back of the couch.

“Baby girl, come here.” I wave her toward me. “Please don’t ever close off from me. I know I’ve said it before, and I’ll keep reminding you. You need to trust me, alright? Just like I trust you.” She nods in response as I continue. “Iris, this is going to take a bit of getting used to. This… us...” I motion between the two of us. “For starters, we’ve jumped right into a new whatever this is while you’re still healing. Physically and mentally,” I point to my head in emphasis, “so we’re going to take this slow, no labels, no pressure. I want to help you and be with you. I want you to know you can always lean on me with whatever you need to help make you whole again. I know what you went through is affecting you, I can see it in your eyes. I see it every time you stare at the ceiling. Baby I see you, and you’re breaking.”

Iris bursts into tears, so I launch over the back of the couch and allow her to crumble in my arms. I allow her to break because in order to heal, you first have to hit rock bottom.




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