Moving was my choice.
I keep telling myself that, eventually, things will get better.
Right now, though, it feels like I lost more than Tank.
It feels like I lost everyone.
When I lived at the compound, I didn’t go out much. I’m an introvert, and I prefer being home. But I never realized how much the noise mattered.
The laughter. The engines. The voices.
It was a constant reminder that I wasn’t alone. That I wasn’t trapped in that hole anymore.
I knew my brother was next door. I knew Tank was only a few houses down.
And no matter how he felt aboutus, he always made sure I felt safe.
Slowly, the nightmares faded. I started leaving the house. Making friends.
Living again.
Now… It’s quiet.
The very thing I thought I wanted.
I wanted distance from Tank. I wanted peace. I wanted silence.
I got all of it.
And what else did I get?
The nightmares are back.
Mine aren’t random monsters or shadowy fears. They’re memories…relentless, vivid, and impossible to escape.
Pieces of a past that refuses to stay buried.
“Little sister.”
I blink and refocus on my brother.
“I’m sorry,” I say with a small smile. “What did you say?”
“Is everything alright?” he asks. “You zoned out. I haven’t seen you do that in over a year.”
“Just got a lot on my mind,” I admit lightly. “So… lunch?”
“How are you sleeping?” he asks, ignoring my attempt to redirect into a less scary topic.
“Upside down, like a bat,” I joke, forcing a smile. “Now come on. I’m starving.”
Bubby studies me for a long moment, his eyes searching my face like he already knows the answer.
Then he sighs softly and nods, deciding, for now, not to press the issue.
We pass the stairs to my apartment and exit the building.
“I’ve been thinking,” I say as we walk down the street toward my favorite dairy bar. “I want to take a vacation. Maybe go visit Sammy.”
