The Secret (North Woods University 3)

“I’m sorry about this morning,” I tell her as I stuff my phone back in my pocket. “Will you eat something, please? You don’t have to come down if you don’t want to.”

She doesn’t even look at me, her eyes trained on a random spot on the floor, like she is trying to avoid my gaze at all cost.

“I’ll eat in my room while reading over the class schedule and then I was planning on going to bed early,” she says as she points to some papers on the bed that I just now notice.

“Okay… I’ll be next door if you need anything.” I try to hide my disappointment, but I don’t think I’m doing a very good job. I’m just angry. Angry with Sarah, with my father, with myself, but most of all, with whoever hurt Emerson. I don’t want to push her for answers, but I want them, need then.

I leave her room and stomp back downstairs to get the bottle of whiskey. When I get back upstairs, Emerson’s door is closed again, no doubt locked as well. Rolling my shoulders, I try and let go of some of the tension rippling through my body.

I flip on the hallway light before walking into my bedroom and sinking down on the bed, leaving my own door open. I haven’t slept with the door open and the light on since I was a small child, but I want to make sure I hear Emerson if she gets up.

Sinking deep into the memory foam mattress, I open the bottle of liquor in my hand. Then I bring the bottle to my lips and drink straight from the source. After awhile, I start to doze off, the whiskey doing its job to numb the unsettling pain. My eyes drift closed, memories of my mother flickering through my mind until the darkness finally wins out.

???

A scream pierces the air of the night, and I pry my eyes open. My head is foggy, clouded with sleep and alcohol. It’s a dream, nothing but a dream.

Another terrified scream meets my ears, and I push up into a sitting position. Emerson. I’ve never been awake and clear-headed so fucking fast in my life. Something’s wrong, something is terribly wrong. Her high pitch scream is all I can hear inside my head and in less than a second, I’m off the bed and exiting the room. I stop right in front of her door, inky dread filling my gut. Wasting no time, I reach for the doorknob, turning it, but it doesn’t open.

Of course it’s fucking locked.

The realization only makes me panic more. I can’t get to her… I can’t save her, not with this door between us.

“Emerson, open up!” I slam my palm to the wood, but instead of waking her up, her screams intensify, growing louder. I can hear the pain, feel the fear in her scream. My jaw and gut clench at the same time. I can’t bear this. I can’t listen to her scream without doing something.

Unable to listen to her screams a second longer, I step back and lift my foot kicking against the door in the area closest to the lock. All it takes is one kick, and with a loud crash, the door gives away and swings open, slamming against the wall harshly.

I’m not prepared for what I find on the other side of that door.

Emerson is on the bed, her arms whaling around her, her body tangled up in her blanket. She’s still screaming, and I notice fresh tears slipping down her cheeks as I rush to her side. Unsure of what I should do I do the only thing that seems to have ever worked, and wrap my arms around her, engulfing her small form in mine, while pulling her tight to my chest.

“Shhh Em, it’s okay. Wake up for me. It’s a nightmare, no one is going to hurt you.” I cradle her on my lap like a small child, holding her arms in a gentle grasp so she can’t hurt either one of us.

“Please… stop…” she whimpers between sobs. Her eyes are still closed, but I can make out her scrunched up face as if she is in pain, even with nothing but the hallway light filtering into the room.

My chest clogs with emotions that I don’t understand at seeing her like this. It literally hurts, the bones throbbing as if someone kicked me in the sternum. Never in my life did I think I would feel this way about someone, that I would want to take someone else’s pain, fears, but I want them. I’d gladly carry the weight, just to see her smile instead of her lips trembling with fear. I want to help her and make her feel better, but I don’t know how and that’s the worst part of all of this. I don’t know how to help her.