She was shaking and sobbing in her sleep. Her moans were helpless, they torn the silent of the night like scissors stabbed at tender flesh. Soarin had no other choice than to open his eyes, and when he tried to touch her, she started to shake even more. Yet, he couldn't let her in such a state of pain and desperation, he had to do something. Never before had she done nightmares when they were together. She even liked to say he was her best remedy against sorrow and misery.

Her eyes opened wide, and she sat straight on the bed at the same time, like hit by something. The breath out of her mouth was irregular, and he was scared she would choke. But she didn't. She only stared at the darkness in front of her. It took time to readjust to reality, to take into consideration that this room was Soarin's room, and that she was safe.

It startled her when he touched her back. The clothes she bought here to sleep were soaked with sweat, so at first, he rubbed her back slowly, until she accepted the contact fully, then he patiently took off her clothes, so the fever could lower.

Once nestled against his body, skin to skin, the sensation of dread vanished away. Her throat was still dry and lumped, but at least, there were no more tears and she wasn't afraid. The stroke on her hair, and Soarin's voice who whispered to her that everything was okay and that she was safe now would eventually appease her completely, she knew. Maybe that was what they called 'the magic touch'.

"Was it a nightmare about your mother?" he asked her softly.

"No... It was about Green Haven..."

Green Haven. The psychiatric institution she went to, in order to heal after her attempt at killing herself... She never went into details about what happened to her when she was there, yet from the little she had told him, the young man could guess this wasn't the sanctuary its name indicated.

Maybe it came from the fact she had to go back there on a regular basis, so she could see and talk to Dr. Horse. Maybe it came from the fact that her therapy, though on a good way, was far from being over. Maybe it was because it would never leave her.

When she said the months she spent there had been the worst of her life, she didn't lie. Nothing sounded like hell more than this place. The memories of her stay would never fade away, never cease to chase her in her nightmares. It all started when her heart was too full, or maybe too empty. When everything had lost flavor, when everything meant nothing to her. It all started where it all should have ended.

I don't want to see anyone and I don't want to talk to anyone. I don't want to do anything, neither. At first, I was trying to fufill the emptiness of my existence with futilities, anything that could help me to forget, even for a short while. It's all in the past... I'll never be the Rainbow Dash I used to be. I don't want to put on an act and pretend I'm happy though the only thing I deeply want to do is doing myself in. I don't have the courage to smile to make sure appearances would be kept. I don't have courage for anything anymore.

Each seconds of lucidity feels like endless pain to me... I'm replaying the last words Mommy said, I can hear the suffering inside Daddy's voice when he told me she has died, and it kills my heart everytime.

When their voices finally leave me alone, I see her image, again and again, and her eyes before she went away.

And Daddy, since I went out of my sideration state, since the funerals, who's always leaving and who's never there... I can hear his footsteps on the floor, as he goes away.

I curse him for leaving me alone, on my own, I spit in the face of his insensitivity.

I wanted him to scream, to break everything around. I wanted that, despite the hate he feels towards me now, he could stay with me, next to me. I wish the worst of torments to him, I pray for another accident to happen so he would suffer like hell, like I suffer myself...

And so I'm twisting in the web of my own pain, my stomach cries for help, my heart bleeds like an opened and displayed wounded.

In order to shut down this pain gnawing me and killing me from the inside, I take another sip of whisky and wait for the drug to knock me out. The tiles are cold under by back and my bare arms.

I'm crying, calling her name but Mommy would never come to comfort me, and I know it. No one comes to comfort me. This house is empty. If I die tonight, I think no one would care, not even him. I know he hates me, I know he wish I were dead. So, it'll probably make him feel better... It makes me want to bang my head against the wall...

Since she's gone, pain and demons wouldn't leave me alone, even through my sleep. I have nightmares where faceless persons are screaming and jumping into a blaze of red flames and thick smoke, black as ebony. "She's dead, she's dead", they repeat. I don't want to believe them, yet I know they're right. So, I would wake up soaked in sweat, with shaking limbs and my heart about to explode.

When it happens, which means almost every night, I barely have the courage to drag my body to the bathroom to pour cold water on my face. When I do reach the room, I never turn on the light, and I never look at myself in the mirror. I'm scared I would see her behind my back and once I would turn around, she'd disappear.

Really, I'm nothing but an empty shell, soul less. I can't take this anymore. The only thing I want is for everything to be over. Dead and gone like her.

Author's Note

Well... Maybe this isn't the story you were expected (as I promised a new SoarinDash short story), but I've spoken about this one earlier, saying it would probably be published by the end of the Rainbow's Blues chapter from The Truth About Girls. So, here we are...

Oh, and I don't know how often new chapters of this story would be published but I think this isn't going to be as regular as my other stories, so I hope it won't bother you. And I also hope you'll like it. And yes, I'm done babbling