Awakening You
Page 8
Just like that, I’m wide awake, like my body has been hotwired.
“What’s wrong?” I fling the blankets off my body and spring from the bed.
“I had a dream about him,” she whispers, hugging her arms around herself.
I instantly relax. “I’m sorry you had a nightmare, but seriously, you can’t wake me up this early.” I’m not a morning person at all.
“It wasn’t a nightmare,” she huffs in frustration, stomping her foot on the floor. “It really happened.”
I sink down on the edge of my bed, yawning. “What happened?”
“Ayden . . . I was dreaming about him sleepwalking outside, and then the dream came true.” Pale moonlight trickles through the window and highlights the fear in her expression.
“I know nightmares can be scary,” I say in the most sympathetic voice I can muster at this early of an hour, “but you have to remember that they’re just that—nightmares.”
“It wasn’t a nightmare.” She marches up to the window and points at something outside. “If you don’t believe me, then take a look for yourself.”
My heart immediately starts pumping blood through my body at an alarming rate. I rise to my feet, pad over to the window, and peer down at the ground. At first, all I see is nightfall covering the neighborhood. But as I strain my vision, I spot a figure next door, standing out on the Gregory’s front yard.
No, not Ayden. He’s not supposed to leave the house and definitely not in the middle of the night.
“Ayden . . .” I whirl to Fiona. “Go wake up my mom.” I run out of my room, down the stairs, and cringe when I realize the front door is wide open, and the alarm has been turned off.
Ayden knows the code, so I’m guessing he did it. But that makes no sense, if he’s sleepwalking.
What the hell?
Even though it’s April, the cement is cold against my bare feet as I race down the driveway and around the fence dividing our yards. The road is dimly lit by lampposts that offer just enough light so I’m not running around blind.
As I approach him, my pulse soars. Wide-eyed and out of it, his lips are moving as he mutters under his breath. I’ve found Ayden sleepwalking before, and like the first time, he’s talking about stuff I don’t understand.
“We’re not going to let you out that easy,” he mutters, staring dazedly out at a car on the corner of the road. “No one leaves us. Ever.”
I struggle over what to do. I know better than to wake him up; otherwise, he might flip out. But I need to get him back into the house somehow.
I reach out to touch his arm, hoping to subtly guide him back without waking him, when he turns his head and looks at me.
“We’re going to come for you,” he mutters. “And you’re going to wish you never escaped . . .” He blinks his eyes, and then his lips part. “What the hell?” In a panic, he glances around at the houses. “Where the hell am I . . . ? How did I . . . ?” His enlarged eyes lock on me. “I don’t . . .”
Shit. He’s waking up and panicking.
“It’s okay.” I cautiously inch toward him with my arms open, preparing to hug him, but he skitters away from me with his hands out in front of him.
“How the fuck did I get out here?” he demands in a harsh voice, his eyes watering up as he gasps for air. “I don’t understand.”
I keep my hands in front of me while stepping toward him. “You were sleepwalking, I think. But it’s okay. Everything’s okay.”
He clenches his hands into fists and sucks in a breath to fight back the tears, but a few escape and cascade down his cheeks. “I’m so sick of this. I feel like I’m losing my goddamn mind.”
“I know, but it’s going to be okay.” I have no idea what else to say. No clue what to do. I feel so helpless at the moment.
“I’m so sorry.” His head slumps forward as he starts to cry.
“You have nothing to be sorry about.” I loop my arm around his back and steer him toward my house. “Let’s get you inside.”
Nodding, his arms wraps around my waist. We hike around the fence, up the driveway, and to the front porch. I only let him go to shut the front door, but freeze when I notice the car on the corner that Ayden was staring at now has the headlights on.
I watch as it flips a U-turn and peels off down the street. With everything that has been happening, I wonder if it isn’t a coincidence that the car drives off the moment we head back inside. Could it be someone stalking Ayden again?
“Lyric, what’s going on?” My mother’s voice floats over my shoulder.
I lock the door then turn around. She has on a robe, her hair is a tangled mess, and her tired eyes are bouncing back and forth between Fiona, Ayden, and me.
I hurry and explain what happened, making sure to include the car. She tells me not to worry, that it was probably one of the neighbors heading off to work, but her eyes show her concern.
“Let’s all get back to bed, and we can talk it about in the morning, okay? When Lila and Ethan get home,” my mom says, ushering us toward the stairs. “I can’t believe you managed to turn the alarm off in your sleep,” she mutters quietly.
“I’m sorry,” Ayden apologizes as we ascend the stairs. “I don’t know how I did it, either.”
“Don’t be sorry,” my mother says from behind us. “This isn’t your fault, sweetie.”
“What’s wrong?” I fling the blankets off my body and spring from the bed.
“I had a dream about him,” she whispers, hugging her arms around herself.
I instantly relax. “I’m sorry you had a nightmare, but seriously, you can’t wake me up this early.” I’m not a morning person at all.
“It wasn’t a nightmare,” she huffs in frustration, stomping her foot on the floor. “It really happened.”
I sink down on the edge of my bed, yawning. “What happened?”
“Ayden . . . I was dreaming about him sleepwalking outside, and then the dream came true.” Pale moonlight trickles through the window and highlights the fear in her expression.
“I know nightmares can be scary,” I say in the most sympathetic voice I can muster at this early of an hour, “but you have to remember that they’re just that—nightmares.”
“It wasn’t a nightmare.” She marches up to the window and points at something outside. “If you don’t believe me, then take a look for yourself.”
My heart immediately starts pumping blood through my body at an alarming rate. I rise to my feet, pad over to the window, and peer down at the ground. At first, all I see is nightfall covering the neighborhood. But as I strain my vision, I spot a figure next door, standing out on the Gregory’s front yard.
No, not Ayden. He’s not supposed to leave the house and definitely not in the middle of the night.
“Ayden . . .” I whirl to Fiona. “Go wake up my mom.” I run out of my room, down the stairs, and cringe when I realize the front door is wide open, and the alarm has been turned off.
Ayden knows the code, so I’m guessing he did it. But that makes no sense, if he’s sleepwalking.
What the hell?
Even though it’s April, the cement is cold against my bare feet as I race down the driveway and around the fence dividing our yards. The road is dimly lit by lampposts that offer just enough light so I’m not running around blind.
As I approach him, my pulse soars. Wide-eyed and out of it, his lips are moving as he mutters under his breath. I’ve found Ayden sleepwalking before, and like the first time, he’s talking about stuff I don’t understand.
“We’re not going to let you out that easy,” he mutters, staring dazedly out at a car on the corner of the road. “No one leaves us. Ever.”
I struggle over what to do. I know better than to wake him up; otherwise, he might flip out. But I need to get him back into the house somehow.
I reach out to touch his arm, hoping to subtly guide him back without waking him, when he turns his head and looks at me.
“We’re going to come for you,” he mutters. “And you’re going to wish you never escaped . . .” He blinks his eyes, and then his lips part. “What the hell?” In a panic, he glances around at the houses. “Where the hell am I . . . ? How did I . . . ?” His enlarged eyes lock on me. “I don’t . . .”
Shit. He’s waking up and panicking.
“It’s okay.” I cautiously inch toward him with my arms open, preparing to hug him, but he skitters away from me with his hands out in front of him.
“How the fuck did I get out here?” he demands in a harsh voice, his eyes watering up as he gasps for air. “I don’t understand.”
I keep my hands in front of me while stepping toward him. “You were sleepwalking, I think. But it’s okay. Everything’s okay.”
He clenches his hands into fists and sucks in a breath to fight back the tears, but a few escape and cascade down his cheeks. “I’m so sick of this. I feel like I’m losing my goddamn mind.”
“I know, but it’s going to be okay.” I have no idea what else to say. No clue what to do. I feel so helpless at the moment.
“I’m so sorry.” His head slumps forward as he starts to cry.
“You have nothing to be sorry about.” I loop my arm around his back and steer him toward my house. “Let’s get you inside.”
Nodding, his arms wraps around my waist. We hike around the fence, up the driveway, and to the front porch. I only let him go to shut the front door, but freeze when I notice the car on the corner that Ayden was staring at now has the headlights on.
I watch as it flips a U-turn and peels off down the street. With everything that has been happening, I wonder if it isn’t a coincidence that the car drives off the moment we head back inside. Could it be someone stalking Ayden again?
“Lyric, what’s going on?” My mother’s voice floats over my shoulder.
I lock the door then turn around. She has on a robe, her hair is a tangled mess, and her tired eyes are bouncing back and forth between Fiona, Ayden, and me.
I hurry and explain what happened, making sure to include the car. She tells me not to worry, that it was probably one of the neighbors heading off to work, but her eyes show her concern.
“Let’s all get back to bed, and we can talk it about in the morning, okay? When Lila and Ethan get home,” my mom says, ushering us toward the stairs. “I can’t believe you managed to turn the alarm off in your sleep,” she mutters quietly.
“I’m sorry,” Ayden apologizes as we ascend the stairs. “I don’t know how I did it, either.”
“Don’t be sorry,” my mother says from behind us. “This isn’t your fault, sweetie.”
