RIPTIDE | Rafe Cameron

20. 𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘹

Blood. I'm lying in a pool of blood, but I'm strapped down, I can't move. I struggle to free my arms, watching as the blood stains my perfectly crisp white summer dress. I can feel the restraints around my wrists begin to tighten, as if there's no room for them to get any tighter.

As I flail about, trying to free myself from these shackles I see that I'm not alone, my sister Maggie is beside me, and she's dead, and there's nothing I can do about it. I scream, a guttural scream, hoping that someone, anyone would help me save her.

And if it came down to it I would choose to save her instead of myself.

"Sidney, Sidney darling, wake up!" I open my eyes frantically, my body shivering, but it's not cold. My mother sits on the edge of my bed, seemingly unsure whether or not she should comfort me physically.

"What happened?" I whisper, sitting up and pulling my knees up to my chest.

"You had a bad dream," She tells me, carefully brushing my hair out of my face, "We could hear you screaming from downstairs."

"I'm sorry," I mutter, feeling my eyes well up with tears, and right now I don't know how I have any tears left in my body.

"Sidney, you have nothing to apologise for," She smiles, cupping my cheeks.

"What time is it?" I ask, wiping the tears off of my face.

"It's just gone eight," She tells me, "You were asleep for about eight hours."

"I didn't think I'd be able to sleep without Rafe," I reply, "And I don't know what I'd do without him either."

"He seems like he really cares about you," She smiles.

"Yeah," I nod, not exactly sure how to articulate the way my friends feel about him.

"Gina, he's here." Dad shouts up the stairs.

"Who's here?" I ask, feeling my heartbeat begin to quicken.

"We're really worried about you, so we've managed to get a psychiatrist to come and speak to you," She tells me like it's not a big deal, "You don't seem your usual self."

"Have you thought that maybe it's because I saw the sheriff die as I tried and failed to save her?" I question her, climbing out of bed.

"We need to see if there's anything we can do to help you," She says calmly as I stare out of my bedroom window, "Just get dressed and meet us downstairs, Ive been told that he's a very nice man."

"So you've been talking about me?" I reply, turning to face her, "Telling everyone that I'm fucking crazy?"

"Sidney-"

"No, it's fine," I cut her off aggressively, rummaging in my wardrobe and picking out a cropped vest and denim shorts, "I'll talk to your doctor friend, and then you'll see that this," I point to myself, "Is a very normal, very human reaction to trauma."

"I'll be downstairs." She tells me, leaving my bedroom and closing the door behind me.

I frantically get dressed, tying my hair up in a half up style, just to keep it out of my face, not bothering with makeup.

Opening my bedroom door I hear my parents talking to the psychiatrist downstairs. I tiptoe across to the stairs to hear what they're talking about.

"We're just so worried about her, she's not eating properly, she's barely sleeping and when she does sleep she has these nightmares." I hear my mother tell him.

I decide to just face the music and head downstairs, making my presence known as I reach the bottom of the stairs. I walk into the living room to see my parents sitting on one couch while the man I assume to be the psychiatrist sits on the other.