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I hung onto these moments like they were the threads holding my world together, which, in a way, they were. I let Lorraine’s thin, platinum locks fall between my fingers from my touch to the pillow’s. I was smiling; a rare occurrence. Lorraine always told me to smile more. Hypocritical coming from her. And she wasn’t even awake now to see it. I pursed my lips but couldn’t wish the ecstasy holding my mouth wide open away.
I was closely snuggled up to Lorraine as she slept. It had been cold the night before and we’d spent a good half-hour finding every blanket we could to wrap ourselves in. I watched the calm, unbothered expression on her face and yearned for it to be so peaceful all the time. I knew, as soon as she opened her eyes, that her ever-present frown would return. It's why I spent so much time making her laugh, no matter how silly I had to be. Her smile was the sweetest nectar.
I shifted my head closer on our shared pillow and squeezed her upper arm. Dawn was breaking and she’d hate knowing she’d overslept. She began to stir.
Anticipating her deep, awakening breath and a kiss good morning, I mumbled, “Hey, you,” softly.
But, as soon as I released my grasp on her arm, I was thrown onto my back and a throttling hold of my throat was taken. I squeaked, clawing at her hands as she straddled me, crushing my windpipe.
“Lorraine!”
I struggled for breath and shook like the weak leaf I was. I had no defense; especially not to a trained spy.
“Lor-Lorrai- nah!”
I tried to untangle her fingers from my throat but she pressed harder, completely blocking my airway. My eyelids fluttered and my lungs fought the hold. My blood cells screeched in protest, beating through my heart restlessly at breakneck speed. Through blurry, teary eyes I could see Lorraine’s entranced expression.
She was still asleep.
She was strangling me in her sleep.
Having been utterly overridden with carbon dioxide, I could feel myself starting to pass out. In one last attempt to prevent Lorraine from murdering me, I dragged my nails down her arm as hard as I could. I felt my nails tear her skin and immediately the weight was removed as I heard her yelp.
I jerked up off the bed and onto the floor, coughing, spluttering and trembling. I made it to the wall and fell against it, trying to soothe my throat without pressing more bruises into it.
Tears had dried in streams down my cheeks as I stared in astonishment at Lorraine. She was kneeling on the bed, her hands covering her mouth and her forearms bleeding from three long scratches.
“ Olive. ”
Breathing was painful, but seeing Lorraine so horrified and disgusted at herself was agonising. She was frozen, gazing at me. I slowly made it onto my knees, crawling my way back to the bed. I could see her heart throbbing through her quivering hairs and eyelashes. I reached for her.
“No!”
She lurched backwards, swallowing and pressing her back to the opposite wall like she wanted nothing more than to sink into it. My throat ached but nothing was bringing me more pain than Lorraine’s rejection of my comfort.
“Lorraine, it was an accident.”
Her voice was hushed and gravelly. “I almost killed you.”
“But you didn’t!”
Her face contorted and she looked away from me, sobbing silently into her hand. I swallowed, being gentle to myself, and moved towards her. I kept my steps quiet and slow despite my wobbling. She turned to face me and shook her head violently, holding her hands close to her chest.
“No, no, no - Olive! No, I don’t want to touch you - I don’t want to hurt you!”
“Lorraine, it’s okay,” I whispered, fighting with her own grip on herself to hold her arms. “You were unconscious. Forget it. It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter!” She cried, hysterical. “I strangled the living daylights out of you! I almost killed you! Dead! Dead, Olive!”
I pressed my forehead against hers and slowed my breath. I held onto the sides of her head and made sure she could feel my soft pulse against her heart. I breathed in through my nose, held it, and blew air out through my mouth. I repeated it until she stopped fidgeting. Until she was in sync with me.
“It’s okay,” I whispered again, eyes closed.
She cautiously looped her arms around me, careful to avoid my neck. “I’m so sorry.”
“I forgive you.”
“It’s going to hurt for a while.”
“I’ll survive.”
There was a brief silence.
“I’m so sorry, Olive. I had no idea I could do that.” Her voice was pitching up to hysteria once more.
I pulled back to look her in the eye and held her body close to mine, prohibiting her from removing any part of herself from me.
“Lorraine, my darling, I forgive you. Listen to me: I’m okay. You’re okay. We’re okay. I promise. Okay?”
She hesitated before nodding stiffly. She pulled me in for a tender kiss. I knew she was trying to pour her sorrow into me and I allowed her to, letting her cling tighter and kiss harder, but I could feel her tears running down her face, sticking our skin together.
On shaking legs, we both drifted to the floor in the corner of the room. Our limbs became tangled together in a relief- and shock-filled mess as the adrenaline in our bloodstreams ran lower and lower.
When we broke apart, Lorraine’s eyes threaded another secure knot through my heart, tugging me closer and deeper into her. The corner of my mouth moved upwards an inch and Lorraine’s eyes crinkled.
“There must be something seriously wrong with you if you’re smiling at me right now,” she mumbled.
“You’re right,” I conceded playfully, my smile growing.
She chuckled. “And why’s that?”
“‘Cause I’m seriously in love with you. It’s so messed up.”
To which she replied, “I bloody well hope so by now. I need someone as messed up as I am,” without a moment of hesitation. “It’s so lonely being the only one.”
I touched my reddened nose to hers and laughed. Once again, I left the silence in the air and watched my fingers slip through her hair. It had a calming effect on both of us.
“I love you too, Olive.”