"Get up." I'm jolted awake by her dreaded voice. "Get the fuck up, you good for nothing bitch." She stands at the top of the stairs, her blonde hair fanning out of her messy ponytail in all directions.

"I won't tell you again, you ungrateful slime," her voice grates. She walks down the stairs eerily slow. "You are made to come home and do your chores. You make dinner. You clean up after your brother and sister. And you sure as hell better do whatever I fucking ask you to do!"

I was still trying to shake off the effects of sleep. I wracked my brain, trying to remember what I had not done, why she was yelling. For the life of me, I could not reason why she was waking me up. I'd worked so hard to avoid having her use her hands on me. She'd made it to the bottom of the stairs. Her purple nightgown has a red stain on it. I had to remember it was there. She'd beat me if I didn't remove that stain.

"I want you to know I put a pillow to your face when you were three months old. I could have destroyed you then, just like I could do it now. Nobody would know you'd suffocated but me. I knew you'd ruin my perfect family. I had to pretend like I loved you for three fucking years!"

She had found her way to my bed. I shrunk into the pile of t-shirts, trying desperately to hide from her. She grabbed at my arms, three of her fingernails ripping my skin as she pulled me out of the safety of my training bed.

"I have half the mind to kidnap your precious little boyfriend," she mused. Her words sent chills down my spine. She couldn't get anywhere near Noah. I wouldn't let her. "Think about it. I put him somewhere you can't reach him and we'll see how you feel. I steal your boy because you stole mine?"

She pulled at my hair, ripping a few strands of it. I realized that I was crying. She could do whatever she wanted to me, but she couldn't have Noah. He had to stay safe. She turned as if she'd walk up the stairs. My instincts told me that she was going to find Noah. I threw myself at her and wrapped my short arms around her legs, trying to push her over with jabs of my hands.

She screeched and jerked me off of her. Her hands threw me on the ground and her foot came down firmly on top of my stomach. She then brought her foot back and kicked my side. "How dare you touch me," she shrilled, her face livid.

I curled in on myself, sheltering my head. I knew I had made a grave mistake. I was not to touch her, approach her, advance on her. She beat me relentlessly. The crimson stain on her nightgown grew until I had no strength left. "You're so weak. One of these days you'll learn your lesson."

Without further preamble, we were in a new room. I knew this room. My wrists were tied to my ankles. I had a gag in my mouth and I was desperately trying to scream out of it.

We were in Noah's room.

She crept up to his bed, to his sleeping form. He couldn't hear me scream. Why couldn't he hear me? She reached for my best friend, her snakelike fingers contorting before my eyes. She ripped him out of bed and he let out a yelp. I could barely see him, my eyes flooded with tears, but I could almost hear the fear and confusion in his ragged breaths. I struggled harder against my restraints. She couldn't hurt him! Noah had to stay safe.

I ripped at the ropes. I jerked and pulled. Noah was staring at me. His blue eyes filled with fear. He shook his head, trying to understand what was happening, trying to break free from her bruising grip to get to me.

I screamed, sobbing through my gag. She pulled him to my side and dropped him at my feet. Without pause, Noah moved to comfort me. He pulled me to him, hugging me, already trying to untie me.

I loved him. I'd always loved him. He had to know I loved him.

She laughed at me. She cackled and grinned at the display before her as if she were the cat and we were the helpless mice. She gripped a knife in her hand. Where had that come from? I screamed and pushed at Noah with my shoulder. He had to move! He had to leave! Why wouldn't he just leave me behind and run for his life?

She came closer. He still wasn't moving.

I was in a panic. I ripped at my restraints with renewed vigor. I would get free and move him myself. I pulled and sobbed, screamed and jerked. All the while, she came closer. She pulled him back by the tufts of his hair. Noah was reaching for me, a look of terror in his beautiful eyes. I couldn't reach him. My restraints wouldn't budge.

"Edith, Eden! You have to save me!"

She cackled manically as she slit his throat.

❃❃❃

I shot up in bed with a scream. I shuddered, trying to shake off the restraints.

There were no restraints.

It was only a nightmare.

Every one of my nightmares played out the way that one had. My dreams started with something that had happened before, a memory. No wonder they felt so real when they turned into my biggest fears. My birth mother had threatened to take away Noah's safety many times. She'd ripped me from my training bed to beat me more times than I could count. The memory of that night played relentlessly through my brain. I had been so scared that she would really kidnap my best friend, so I physically tried to stop her. I'll never forget the beating she gave me for that.

I shook uncontrollably. I replayed Noah's panicked eyes over and over. I was so grateful that part wasn't true, wasn't real. I could never live with myself if it was.

Noah threw open the door and stood in the doorway, breathing hard. As if the sound of my terror had ripped him straight from his bed, he was missing his shirt and pants, giving me a great view of his perfectly sculpted body around his black boxers. His hair was messy, bed head. He took in my distraught expression and his face melted into worry.

He climbed onto my bed and pulled me into his arms. The heady perfume of him soothed my nerves and I melted into his chest. Noah kissed my sweaty forehead and murmured, "It was a nightmare, Edith. It was just a nightmare."

The first part of my dream wasn't a nightmare. That was a memory. An awful memory I couldn't forget. Noah's presence calmed me. His arms soothed me, but I replayed seeing his mutilated throat and broke into sobs once more. I couldn't shake the fear that Noah wasn't completely safe and it was all my fault.

The second part of my dream wouldn't happen. It just wouldn't. My birth mother was in jail. She'd be in jail for life. She wouldn't get anywhere near my Noah. Noah made shush noises and buried his face in my hair, bending to kiss my neck. "I wish I could take away all of your hurt, baby. If I could have one wish, it would be to keep you happy and safe for the rest of your life."

I cried harder. I didn't care about my safety anymore. My tears weren't about me. I turned around and straddled him, not worrying in the slightest about how inappropriate it may be, wrapping my arms around his neck. I put my head on his chest. I wanted to be close to him. I wanted to hear his heartbeat.

"Promise you'll be safe, Noah," I whispered to him, desperately, needing an answer.

"I'm safe, Eden. Whatever you dreamed about isn't going to happen." He kissed my temple and pulled away until we lay beside each other on my pillow. He pulled me close, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and I rested my head on his chest. His lips rested in my hair and he whispered to me until the tremors stopped.

I never had nightmares after Noah came to my room. We'd lay for hours, talking or in complete silence, until I'd become comfortable enough to fall asleep, always wrapped in his arms. But the fear, the agonizing, petrifying fear, of losing Noah was always the last thought on my mind.