“Ughh. That dream again.”

    I sat up straight, wiping the sleep out of my eyes. The room slowly came into focus; my back was soaked in sweat, and a wave of numbness crawled down my arms. My hands were trembling relentlessly and I clutched the bedsheets tightly to quell the shake.

    “What is it with that dream?” I murmured.

    I looked over next to me, Cybelle was still asleep. Thank Gods, I didn’t wake her. Her black hair was still in its tight curls as always, spreading itself out over the pillow. I wanted to run my fingers through it, trying to calm myself down. She looked so peaceful when she was asleep; no murmuring, no tossing and turning in the night.

    I tore myself away, swung my legs over the edge of the bed, and just sat there for a moment with my head buried in my hands. I stared at the bare floorboards beneath, running each second of it through my mind. The sensation in my body was welling up, as if ready for a mass eruption. It gathered there, in the back of my throat.

    Why that dream? Why that place? Why THAT!?

    The smell of wet grass and muddy field filled my nostrils, followed by the stench of freshly fired black powder. The smoke burnt the inside of my lungs; they felt as though they were on fire, although I knew otherwise.

    I staggered over to the balcony door and flung it open into the midnight air, the cold hit me like a locomotive at full speed. I almost collapsed onto the railings and looked out over the London skyline. You could see everything from this height, only superseded by St. Pauls Cathedral. The moonlight reflected off the river, illuminating everything in a silvery light; it was quite a sight to behold.

    Even so, they persisted.

    What I did that night, that month, that entire goddamn war; it’ll stay with me for the rest of my life. Nothing will ever change that fact. I regret every moment I was there. I know that I had no choice in the matter, it was either fight for a cause I knew hardly anything about, or become an outcast. To prove my worth, I fought...prove that I could keep my family name. The acts that were committed were barbaric...the acts that I committed.

    I gagged at the thought.

    The night air blew the doors shut with a clatter of wood and glass. It took my breath away, starving me, drying my mouth to the point of being raw. I suddenly collapsed to my knees struggling to get any breath into my lungs. My heart began to race so fiercely, I thought it was going to burst right out of my chest.

    I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder, “James, are you alright?” she said in a smooth, hushed voice. I froze. She crouched down next to me, her nightgown flowing in the wind.

    I looked up into those emerald eyes; my heart crumbled. “Cye.” I managed to gasp after a moment, “Sorry...I...I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m fine...” I lied instinctively. I was not fine, not in the slightest. I could see that her face was full of concern, but I let on nothing that would cause her to fret even more. For a moment she looked as if she wanted to press the matter, but I was in such a state, she seemed to think against it.

    I made the excuse, “I needed to get some air, just a bad dream, that’s all.” Just enough to throw her off the case. She took my hand gently in hers, her touch so soft it neutralized any residual tension that I had left. She seemed to have that particular effect on me. It made me feel sick to the core, having to keep this to myself, but it was for the best. I didn’t want to trouble her with my burdens as well as hers. She was my rock, but all rocks can crack under weight.

    “Come back to bed sweetheart” she said eventually, standing up, leading me back inside. I tried to separate everything of concern, leaving it floating away as we crossed the threshold.

    I sat on the edge of the four poster, feeling mentally drained trying to forget it ever happened. Cye pulled me backwards under the sheets and as we lay there together, she laid her head on my chest and listened to my heartbeat. I prayed that it would not betray me again. I prayed that she would never find out the atrocities that I have committed in my time. It would come out eventually, but hopefully I could control when it did. She would understand I hoped, she had been there herself at some point.

    With that to comfort me and steady my head, I draped my arms around her and drifted off to sleep again. I just hope it wouldn’t happen again in the foreseeable future. For now, I was at peace again in the arms of the woman I love.

    That was all the comfort I could ask for.