Chapter 3 Nightmare (Two)

• Tears blur my eyes, but I wipe at them angrily and draw in a deep, ragged breath. Then I light the cigarette that I brought outside with me and take a few drags. I had been such a mess when I first got out of the hospital, but nowadays, I like to think that I’m much better and stronger, but apparently, I’m not, and the reason for my relapse was right there inside the house at this very moment. It is no wonder that I had the nightmare again after almost a month of freedom.
• As I stand there, I realize that I’m not alone in the garden. Someone is there in the shadows watching me silently. I know it as surely as I know that Charlotte is in prison. I don’t know how I know that there’s someone there, but I just know. I consider screaming off my head to alert the household. I refuse to be taken again.
• “Hello, Jessica.” A deep voice says from behind me. I whirl around, my right hand flying to my throat as I stare at him … the very reason for the nightmare I had just had. I relax a bit as soon as I see his tall frame, but from the way he is looking at me, he can probably tell that he has scared me very badly.
• “I’m sorry for scaring you. I didn’t mean to.” Charles says, looking like he meant it. I stare at him with ill-concealed hatred, his apology not appeasing me in the slightest.
• “Why are you following me?” I ask him rudely, unable to stop staring at him and thinking about how much he looked like his dead sister.
• “I wasn’t. I was in the garden and I saw you come in, so I figured I’d ask if you’re okay.”
• “I’m not okay, thanks to you and your face that looks so much like that of your sister. I’ll be okay if I never see your face or anything that will remind me of your crazy sister ever again.” I spit at him.
• “I understand. I’m sorry that you feel that way, but I can assure you that I’m nothing like my sister, Jessica. I’m very sorry for all that she did to you.”
• “Sorry just doesn’t cut it. Maybe if you didn’t look like a taller, masculine version of her, I wouldn’t be so sickened by you. I understand that it is not your fault that you look the way you do, but it is also not my fault for being traumatized. It's just the way things are. As it stands, being with you in the same room or space scares the living daylights out of me. Please, I beg of you, avoid me from now henceforth. I’ll do the same with you.”
• “Alright. I’ll try to do as you’ve asked. Once again, I’m sorry for everything that you went through, and I truly hope that you heal from it. Goodnight, Jessica.” Charles says solemnly and turns to leave. I watch him go, feeling a little bad at the way I had spoken to him. It isn't his fault that his sister is a maniac.
• Everyone tells me that he is nothing like Charlotte, and I can see the truth of that in his eyes, which although they’re the same color and shape as Charlotte’s, hold a kindness and intelligence that I’m not sure Charlotte’s ever produced a measure of. Still, I’m not interested in being his friend and would be very much relieved if I never see his handsome face again.