Broken Dreams(36)

“Oh, god, Elaina... fuuuuuck.” His ragged breath broke with a deep moan. I felt his juice spurt into me. He rested his forehead between my shoulder blades for a second to catch his breath.

After he pulled out, he fell on to the bed next to me. He pulled me into him, spooning me, and held me as he fell asleep. His soft snore tickled my ear. That should have been our first time together as husband and wife, but it wasn’t.

Minutes after he fell asleep, his mumbling began. He mumbled a lot in his sleep. Sometimes, he would cry out in pain. After our discussion, I had a feeling what he had nightmares about. It had to be about his beatings. He would never tell me what the nightmare was about when he woke up screaming. It made me pause, thinking about the abuse he endured throughout his life. I don’t even want to know how many times he was beaten. He had some scarring on his chest, arms, wrists, ankles, and back. Now I knew where they all came from.

I thought back to the first time I experienced his night terrors.



-November 2012-



We had only been together for a couple weeks, and Henry was twitching and mumbling in his sleep. Why could he never have a peaceful slumber? His breathing was ragged, and he let out painful moans. I rolled over and he was in a fetal position, holding on so tight that it looked like he was trying to hold himself together. His face was contorted in pain. I had to help him.

I stroked his hair and softly said his name, trying not to jar him awake. “Henry…” I stroked his cheek. He was in a cold sweat and shaking all over. “Henry…”

Then he let out this bloodcurdling scream. I jumped off the bed, as he launched himself from the bed, slammed into the wall, and cowered in the corner.

“Henry…” With hesitation, I walked toward him.

“Get away from me!” His face was frozen in fear, and his voice sounded funny. He had an accent.

“Henry, it’s me. Elaina. It’s okay.” I held out my hands and got down on the floor in front of him. “What’s wrong, lover?” His breathing was still ragged. “Talk to me.” I moved closer, being careful not to startle him. His pupils had taken over his eyes. There was only a hint of green around them.

“Get away from me!” He screamed in what sounded like a British accent.

“Henry, I’m not going to hurt you. Look at me.” I reached out and touched his face. He flinched. “Henry…” I cupped his cheek in my hand, and his face began to soften. “Are you okay?” His breathing slowed down and became more controlled. His eyes started to turn back to emerald, while they darted around the room, trying to get his bearings.

“Elaina? What…?” He looked around.

“I think you had a night terror, or bad dream. Are you alright now?”

“Yeah, I think so.” He began to stand up.

“Henry, what’s going on? You’re scaring me. You were talking in a British accent.”



-October 2014-



Oh, my god. The British accent. I just thought it was some sort of weird dream state he was in at the time, but now it all clicked.

I began to cry about everything he endured throughout his life. It made my whole being ache, picturing him getting beaten to near death. I had to stop myself before I had a complete mental breakdown.

I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw my father in the sights of my Sig. I tossed and turned, rocking Henry’s insomnia for a change. I stared out the window…thinking, contemplating. I hoped I didn’t disturb Henry because he didn’t look like he was resting too peacefully, but at least someone was getting some sleep.

As he continued to mumble, I kept thinking about where we should have been at that moment. We should have been on the beach, enjoying each other as husband and wife. What I wouldn’t give to turn back time. A knock on the bedroom door brought me back to the ever-growing, agonizing reality again.

“Elaina. Elaina, are you awake?” Claire. I hopped up and pulled on a t-shirt and pants. I opened the door and there she stood, looking like a mess. “I can’t sleep,” she whispered.

“Me, either.” I looked down at my feet and frowned. I looked back at Henry, who was still sleeping, and stepped out of the bedroom, closing the door behind me. Claire wrapped her arms around me and started to cry.

“I can’t do this. I can’t. How am I supposed to get through this? Marc meant so much to me. I counted on him to keep me sane.”

“Hon, I don’t know. I wish I had the answers that you need to hear.” I stood there in the cool darkness and held her. The only thing that I could do was be there for her. “Let’s go in here.” I flicked the light switch on, forgetting the power was out, and we sat on the guest room bed in silence. We didn’t know what to say to one another.