*Early Sunday August 20th sometime between the hours or three and four A.M.
In an apartment in Borealis*
It’s the middle of the night and I myself sitting here writing, after having snuck out of a comfortable bed and a warm embrace. I was awaken by the shivers of a nightmare not my own. I laid there for a moment watching the restless eye movements of REM sleep and listening to her staggered heavy breathing. I know what she’s dreaming about, but I still can’t imagine what it was like, or maybe it’s that I don’t want to envision the terror she went through tonight. I don’t want to know the feeling of betrayal that must have came over her, while the threats of death came from those she at one point in time trusted, those whom she has worked so diligently for, or the feelings of anger swelling up from knowing the reason she was sitting there was because of someone she called friend, someone she knew her whole life put her their on the firing line for petty reason.
I want to go back to bed, I want to go and lie down next to her and wrap my arms around her, and I know I need to soon. But I have to sit here and keep writing. I have to try and purge my own images out of my mind. Images of that thing, grabbing her by the hair, the sounds of her screams keep echoing on my head, over and over again. The overwhelming feeling of knowing I failed her. I drew my guns too late; maybe it was shock and horror of seeing her being treated like that, in a place was she should have been safe.
Safe? Maybe I’m being naïve, in thinking anyone is truly safe anywhere on this planet. But it doesn’t matter; I do know this shouldn’t have happened. They could have gone about it a different way. Who am I kidding men of power like to show there power, even if it mean terrifying a beautiful girl, who has done no wrong. So many on this planet are nothing more then cowards with no honor and their side have nothing to do with it……..
I’ll have to finish this rant another time as I hear her stirring, I have to return. I promised her I would be the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes, and even thought my sitting here writing would be easily explained and forgiven, I can’t let her be betrayed again.
I love you Cylie.