The nightmares came back like I knew they would. They were bad, really bad.

I woke up shrieking for my brother, strained sobs ripping through my clogged chest as hot tears freely flowed down my burning skin. Opaque smoke rented the vicinity as I searched blindly for him, I found him, but once again I was too late. The flames danced over his body, like a slow tango. They devoured him, licking his skin before taking mammoth bites out of his flesh, leaving smouldering black holes where they had taken mouthfuls

Cries of anguish mixed with mine as the greedy flames continued to consume Blake. Large angry holes soiled his clear olive skin, exposing gushing red flesh, blood and bones. He screamed again, the large opening on the side of his face flashing his once immaculate teeth, now charred black by the unforgiving flames. My stomach wrenched painfully as I chocked on a sob.

I stretched my hand towards him fighting against the flames as I bit back my cries of pain, sighting out his hand from within the inferno. The pain that shot through my arm was excruciating but I was holding his hand and that was all that mattered. I wasn't ready to let go, I wanted to kick and scream against the heartless force that was ripping my brother away from me as the relentless wind blew his ashen body leaving me to grasp at air.

My eyes flung open, the vivid bright orange flames replaced by the void darkness of my dorm room. I drugged in a ragged breath, feeling like a boulder had been lodged deep in my chest and was being forced out through my throat. I blinked my eyes rapidly urging them to gain focus, tears slipped past them as I wrung my trembling fingers together, practicing Dr Jones' breathing technique.

I looked over at Avery's bed, sighing in relief when I noticed her soundlessly sleeping figure under the blanket. I grabbed the battle of water on my nightstand, gulping it down, my throat suddenly feeling like sandpaper.

Sloppily reaching for my phone, my hands flew against the few applications settling on a particular one, sorrowful sobs wrenching from within me.

"Happy birthday Poppy!" I heard Blake shout before I was dowsed in cold water, shocking me straight put of my sleep. I shot out of bed trembling like a feeble leaf as I glared heatedly at my brother.

"What the heck Blake!"

"Its your birthday, we do this every year. Why are you even shocked?" He was right, every year he would do exactly this and every year I would still wake up disoriented and shivering uncontrollably. I groaned in irritation, pinching at my wet clothes that had stuck to me like a second skin.

"Wow Poppy are those wrinkles I see?" He made a move to poke his finger against my forehead but I slapped it away roughly, resonating a wince from him "your getting old sis"

"I'm not! Your older than me!" My mothers melodious chuckle rung from behind the camera making her presence know to me.

"Yeah, but your the one with the wrinkles" green eyes eyed me, accusation flashing in them.

"You can't be mean to me, its my birthday!"

"So?" Was his monotonous response. I huffed charging towards him, my sole focus on tackling him to the ground and when I did I smiled proudly, sticking my tongue at his disoriented frame beneath mine.

"Mum are you seeing this!" He wined like an insistent child, wheezing when I roughly jumped pressed all my weight on him.

"Its her birthday" my mother defended from behind the camera shooting me a small smile "happy birthday sweety" she added sweetly before the camera began moving, the video coming to an end.

I watched the video repeatedly until the whole night, crying softly at what could have been. I watched it commemorating the image of Blake to my head, I memorised the lively green eyes that were always filled with mischief, his clear olive skin that was no longer pocketed with smouldering holes and his brilliant white smile, no longer blackened by ragging flames. I wanted to completely extinguish the ghastly image I had conjured in my dream, I wanted it gone.

I sat staring unblinkingly at the window as the sun rose, gulping down the navy colour that had earlier filled the sky. I watched as new day began, disregarding my jumbled life and continuing on consequently forcing me to pick up my crumbled pieces.

Feeling grimy after my nightmare, I had an overwhelming need to shower, my skin itching in irritation. I lightly moaned in pain as I shifted on the bed, my head throbbing from all the crying I had done as I made my way to the bathroom, which much to my delight were devoid of any presence. I let the warm water wash over me, untying all the knots in my tense muscle, easing my mind the slightest bit.

I found Avery dragging herself out of bed when I arrived back at the room, feeling slightly refreshed having changed into clean clothes that weren't dowsed in perspiration and guilt. Loud shuffling resonated from Avery's side of the room as she roughly tugged off her blanket, shoving a large chunk of hair out of her face. Over our time together as roommates I had gathered she was not a morning person, the only reason she was barely dragging herself out of bed was because she had an early class today.

"I hate Thursdays! Why the hell do I have to get up so goddamn early!" she wined while rubbing her pale blue eyes that were obviously ladened with sleep. She proceeded to throwing her head on the pillow realising a muffled groan.

"Why are you awake, you only have like one class today and its in the afternoon" she turned her head slightly, looked at me in horror, I bet wondering who would wake up this early if not for classes. But unlike her I didn't have the luxury of sleep, my sadistic subconscious wouldn't let me choose if and when to sleep in and I despised sleeping pills, they were like a way of portraying that I was sick, unstable.

So with a small shrug I mumbled "I just have some reading to do" which was technically not a lie, I did have a copious amount of assignments and unwritten notes. I distinctively heard her mumble something along the lines of 'damn morning people' as she walked out of the door albeit sloppily.

What she didn't know was I really wasn't a morning person, I just resulted into not scaring her with how grumpy I could be, I had my days too and unfortunately my mother had been on the receiving end severally, that I am completely ashamed of. I stuffed my things into my book bag before heading to the cafe, noting lightly how much coffee had become my staple food since I joined the university.

The cafe was slightly crowded today, which was honestly dismaying, but I luckily found my regular table unoccupied. I ordered my coffee before taking refuge on my usual seat, under the large window. Unlike other days when I would have enjoyed the natural light, today I found it irritating, the soft murmurs of the other occupants further drawing my frustration. I was just about to take my leave when I noticed a familiar head of black hair.

I had no idea how I knew it was him but I did, I watched my eyes glued to him as he ran slender fingers between his black locks. The wind further tussling hair, some flopping into his eyes before he shoved a black baseball hat on, It suited him, I thought as I continued my blatant staring. His long legs had been encased in light grey sweat pants as a thin white shirt covered his chiseled chest.

I could distinctively see the intricate design of his tattoos through his shirt, blank ink scattered allover his muscular built. I noticed a word written on his outer left thumb as he curled his artistic long fingers into fists, it was short but in beautiful design, but no matter how much I squinted past my glasses I couldn't make it out. It was only when I saw his lips moving rapidly that I realized he had a phone pressed against his ear, his eyes glared at the dirt road as get spoke clearly annoyed at the person on the other side of the line.

I continued watching in a trance until I was no longer able to see him, his back disappearing around a corner. That was when the guilt I had managed to brush off since Monday began to creep its ugly head at me. I felt guilty for telling him what I had, he might have been a stranger to me but he was still the one that helped me, he held me and conformed me the whole night and I was a completely ungrateful bitch to him.

I had forgotten that he had no idea why I couldn't press charges, that to him it wasn't understandable to just sweep the matter under the rug and pretend to move on. To him I was probably just a weak girl afraid to face the truth and to some extent I was, I had always been her.

I already knew I had to apologize but I didn't know how. I had practically shoved him out of my life, I doubt he would want to see me again. We're practically strangers right and that's all we'll ever be, his sharp words still played in my head making me involuntarily wince at the acidity of his words.

I decided to forget all thoughts of Holden, which proved to be much difficult than I had earlier perceived as I discarded my cup heading out of the cafe.

The rest of the day went by in a blur, I was either cursing people out in my head or glaring at an inanimate object. I attended my class, seating in the middle corner as the professor emphasised on as statistics of sorts. To be completely honest, his balding head held more of my attention than his monotone voice. My body was still aching in irritation at my lack of sleep as my eyes burnt with dryness.

I was practically dragging myself to the dorms later in the day, my muscles screaming in antagonising pain. However my exhaustion was immediately discarded when, the hairs on my arm stood as an uncanny feeling spread through me. I felt like I was being followed, but every time I looked behind me I was met with the curious stares of other students as they walked briskly past me. It could possibly just be in my head, it had happened before and it turned out to just be paranoia.

I however, locked all doors and windows when I entered my room. I felt like a fathom hand was gripping my throat, cutting of my air circulation as I struggled to breath. Coupled with the aggressive ache in my skull, I was a heaving disaster waiting to explode.