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My eyes snap open. It doesn't really make any difference, it's too dark in the room.
I take a deep breath and try to stay as stiff as possible while breathing out, but I can't stop my body from shaking. I'm trying to chase the invading thoughts out of my head, but they keep coming back, along with flashes of pictures from the nightmare I've just woken up from. And it's too much. It's not fair that even after I've finally escaped from that dream and made it back to reality, it still doesn't leave me alone. But when was real life any better than my nightmares anyway?
Inhale.
Just take some deep breaths and think about something you like.
Exhale.
Something nice.
Inhale.
Something soft.
Exhale.
Maybe Ralsei wasn't exactly talking about this, but I remember Mom teaching this exercise to Asriel back then when he was anxious about his college application and often had panic attacks. I never really believed in these kind of things, and I never asked him if it's useful in any way, but at this point, I don't think I've got anything to lose, so I might as well just try it myself.
Five things I see.
I lift my head up and look around. I can hardly see anything except the tiny red light that blinks every now and then to indicate that the TV is in standby mode. Now that we use it almost every day again, we never completely turn it off anymore, not even for the night. One.
As my eyes get a bit more used to the dark, more and more outlines become clear around me. I set my eyes on the pair of huge shoes and the purple jacket besides the front door. Two. There was a time when it felt strange to see them there, when it made me awkward to have someone over, even though she was my friend. Strange and awkward, but never in a bad way. I've never dealt well with changes in my life, but a good change is easier to welcome, and Susie is probably the best change that's ever happened to me. And right now, after all these weeks, those shoes and that jacket seem like they've always belonged here in our home. And yet, sometimes I wonder how long it would take until they'll disappear and never come back, and the thought makes me shiver.
I can stretch my neck just enough to be able to see the microwave in the kitchen. The small screen in the up right corner shows the time in glowing green digits, but it's too far from me to read the numbers. I can't stare at it for too long without my muscles starting to ache, so I just drop my head back to the pillow. Three.
The moon is in the waxing gibbous phase tonight, and although right now it's not visible from our living room windows, the night sky is noticeably brighter than usual. I can even see the moonlight painting the leaves of the woods behind our home. Four. Those woods used to be one of my safe spaces with Asriel for so many years, but I haven't set one foot in there since the day he left.
I slowly raise my hands, palms facing towards me, and just stare at them quietly. Five. I'm here. It's okay. Everything's gonna be alright. At least that's what I'm supposed to believe in.
Four things I feel.
I turn on my side and pull my blanket up to cover my shoulder, and try to focus on the texture of it and the fabric of my shirt on my skin. One. All my life, I've been very picky when it came to clothes, and the green-yellow striped shirt I'm wearing is pretty much the only piece of clothing I'm comfortable with for a long time. I've got quite a few of them in my closet, Mom bought me all of them from the store to make sure I always have a clean one to wear.
Something moves behind me, then I feel a hand on my back, gently sliding up to cover my shoulder bones. Her movements are slow and awkward, and her fingernails are a bit too sharp as they touch the skin right below the back of my neck, so I wiggle a little bit to change their position, but then I lean into Susie's touch. Two.
She instantly moves closer and wraps both her arms around me, pulling me back to her chest so tightly that I can feel the rhythm of her heart against my spine. Those small beats that keep her alive. Three.
Leaning her head forward, she presses her nose against my hair. The air she breathes out is so warm, and it's tickling my neck. Four.
Three things I hear.
Her snoring is slow and regular and so peaceful that it's even able to ease my mind for a few moments before the messed up thoughts slowly start to seep back in. One. I turn my head to the side and quiver, trying to fight off the memory of my nightmare.
Susie lets out a long moan, tightening her arms around me, placing a hand on top of my head. Her voice sounds droopy and sluggish, but it still pulls me back from the depths of my thoughts to the surface. Two.
In the kitchen, the fridge suddenly starts to whirr on a low voice. Three. It makes me wonder if we have anything left to eat in case any of us wants a late night snack, but then I remember that me and Susie destroyed the whole pie during supper. Then she slides her hand further under my body to embrace me even tighter, and I realise that even if we had any leftovers, I wouldn't want to get up from this couch at least for a while.
Two things I smell.
As she leans a bit closer to my face, I notice how she smells a little bit like the butterscotch cinnamon pie we had a few hours ago, and I smile when I think about the way she sneezed after sniffing into a packet of cinnamon powder out of curiosity while we were baking the pie together with Mom this afternoon. One.
With a careful motion, I turn around on the couch towards her, making my hair fall into my face so that I can smell my own apple-scented locks. Two. Sometimes, when I feel too overwhelmed with everything that's going on in my head, it's very hard to take care of my basic needs, and there are times when I can barely get myself to have a shower. But whenever Susie comes over, it becomes a little bit easier.
One thing I taste.
I slowly crawl towards her until I touch the skin on her neck, and I bury my face into it. She pulls me into a tight embrace again. I open my mouth and breathe out slowly, then I press my lips onto her skin, followed by my tongue for just a glimpse of a second. She tastes like comfort.