“It’s time for bed,” Mom rubs my back with comfort as I take my final sip of hot chocolate. My hands shake, as I set the glass mug back on the wooden kitchen table. My whole body was shaking, like every other time a storm came along, and I couldn’t make it stop. “You need some rest.” She had to get to bed soon too. She would be helping Dad and Emery pick up the scattered pieces of the farm in the morning, if the storm stops.

Right now, it’s the only thing that breaks the silence. The wind rattles the shutters, and squeals against the white paint of the farmhouse. The rain pounds down on the roof and drips across the glass windows. The thunder roars loudly, shaking the entire house.

I give my mom a hug goodnight, and try to stop myself from shaking as I slowly make my way up the stairs. I’m already in my favourite pair of pajamas that Mom had gotten for me, when I arrived soaked in attempt to make me feel better. They were pink and fluffy fleece, with green and purple polka dots on them. For a shirt, I wear a plain purple tank top that matched perfectly.

The door job makes noises as it jiggles beneath my shaky grip. I open the door, and shut it quietly behind me. I assume Emery is asleep, as he lies facing the window on his mattress. I can’t see his face, but I’m too scared to look at him. What an impression I must have made.

Slipping into bed, I pull my warm comforter up to my nose, and stare at my window. I refuse to shut my eyes. Falling asleep would mean having the dream, and I couldn’t allow the memory to surface while Emery is in the same room. But I was already exhausted, and I can only concentrate on keeping them open for a small duration of time. I barely notice when they slowly begin to close.

Three Hours Later:

“Why must he run away like this?” Shouts Ocean over the storm. Her soak and wet brown hair matches mine exactly, as with all the soft subtle features of her face. Her big, chocolate eyes search the darkness like mine, and her pale cheeks are pink from the cold. “We need to train that dog better!”

I look around for King but it’s hard to see through the pounding rain. I was the one who had let him our after he had continuously barked for twenty minutes at the front door. I thought he would just do his business around the corner of the house, like he usually does, but he bolted out into the field.

“King!” I call, holding my hands around my mouth. “King! Here boy!” My eyes scan around me for any of the usual places he would go, but I don’t see any sign of our sheepdog. I know this is my fault, but I push the thought away to focus on making things right.

Ocean’s fourteen year old voice matches mine as she calls for our beloved family dog. “King! Come back! We have treats!” My feet make squishing noises every time I take a step from the water that fills the soles. “King!”

Ocean runs ahead of me, towards the far end of the field where the forest is. There’s no sign of him in the field, so he must be near there. “River! I see him!” She jogs towards him, her relived happiness echoing through her voice. “King!” She calls, and I see his eyes glow from the flash of light that surrounds us.

“No!” My scream pierces through the house, breaking the usual noise of the storm that makes the house shake. I’m moving, although I have no idea why. My shoulders are being jerked back and forth at strange angles. My eyes fly open, and when they adjust a few moments later, I gasp.

“What are you doing?” I jerk myself out of Emery’s grasp, as he leans over me in the dark. He’s on my bed, in a band t-shirt and black boxers. He moves back until were a few feet away, and shrugs.

“You were freaking out like a maniac. I couldn’t sleep with you screaming.”

My hands begin to shake and I remember the dream. No more thunder booms, but the wind is making loud noises against the old house.

“You broke the three rules I had set for you,” I pull the blanket up to cover more of me in the darkness. I couldn’t let him see me shake.

“Whatever,” Emery moves to the edge of the bed and stands onto his feet. “Just stop your screaming or I’m going to strangle you until you stop.” I roll my eyes, and sink into my bed. Once Emery is relaxed on his mattress, I close my eyes.

Pictures flash in front of me. Ocean’s smiling face as her hand gently rests on Patch’s head in the midst of petting him. She looks extremely happy, and my heart breaks. The next is of the dark clouds, looming over us from my dream. There a sickly black and only light up when sheet lightening illuminates them. The third is of King’s glowing eyes. The grey’s dogs eye are a pale blue, but the lightning makes them glow a horrible yellow.

I open my eyes again, and take deep breaths. I need to calm down. Inhale. I’m fine, safe inside of the house. Exhale. The storm will be over soon. Inhale. Ocean’s death is my fault. Exhale.

I notice that half my pillow is soaked from tears, as I lay on my left side and they slowly drip down, seeping into the fabric. I clasp my hands together, in attempt to stop them from shaking, but it makes my torso shake more. I can’t control it, as I shiver like I was in a bathing suit in the middle of the Artic.

“River,” groans Emery, and I hear him move around. I don’t look over to see him, most likely sitting up to see over the end of my bed. Instead, I wrap my blankets around me to shield my shaking. “You’re making the whole bed move, which is touching the mattress, which is making me shake.” He sounds half awake, and annoyed, but I can’t stop.

“S-s-sorry,” I stutter, and I can’t control my voice. I’m shaking so much that I can’t do anything right.

“What the hell are you doing?” Emery snaps, and I hear him stand up. He walks around the side of my bed, until he’s standing in my view of where I’m looking. I don’t meet his eyes, as he looks down on me. “Are you okay?” His fingers twitch, as if they want to reach out and touch me. He doesn’t let them.

“F-fine,” I mumble, trying to sound normal.

“Are you cold?” I shake my head no, which must look strange considering I’m lying sideways, but Emery sighs anyways. “I can go get you some blankets or something. Where are they?”

“Y-your bed h-has them,” as I stammer, my voice grows quieter. “And I-I’m not c-cold.”

“Here,” Emery heads towards his mattress. “I’ll get them.”

“No!” I object, and then lower my voice. “I m-mean, you’ll b-be t-too cold w-without t-them. And I-I’m not c-c-cold!”

Emery rolls his eyes, and leans down until our faces are inches apart. In one swift movement, he rips off the blankets, and sighs. “If you’re not cold, then why are you shaking so badly?”

He throws the covers back over my shivering body, and I will myself to stop. “I-It’s n-not from being c-cold.”

Emery sits down on the edge of my bed, and stares down into my glassy eyes. “Is it because of…what happened?” When I not, he sighs again. This time, it’s long and exaggerated. I know he must really be wanting a cigarette right about now, but he can’t go on the roof because of the storm. As soon as the word storm crosses my mind, I’m whimpering as the memories come flooding back.

“River,” for the first time ever, he says my name in concern, instead of anger. “I’m getting the blankets.” I tell him not to, but he gets up anyways. He rips the comforter, the sheets, and the quilt off his mattress, and puts them on the floor beside my bed.

One by one, he gently lays the blankets overtop of me, making sure that they are perfectly settled underneath my chin. When he’s done, he stares down at me like he’s looking at a masterpiece of blankets.

“Are you warmer now?”

“I was w-warm before j-just take y-your blankets b-back.” Emery walks around the bed, until he’s on the opposite side. On the empty space to my right, he sits down, and lowers himself onto the pillow beside me. He sprawls out, and tucks his arms under the back of his head. He looks as if he’s staring up at a sky full of stars on a warm summer’s night. But no, it’s just my plain white slanted ceiling.

“So you’re not really cold after all?” I stare at his face in the darkness as he raises his eyebrows. “You’re actually just shaking because you’re upset?” I mumble a yes, and Emery nods. He doesn’t say anything for a while, so I just try to focus on making myself stop shaking.

“Y-you should go t-to bed,” I murmur, knowing he had to get up in a few hours. It wasn’t fair to him to lose his blankets and stay awake. “Take back y-your blankets.”

Emery laughs lightly. “First of all, I can’t sleep while you’re shaking everything in this room. Second, I’m not taking the blankets. It is cold in here, and it’s probably making matters worse.”

“S-so what are you going to do?” I can feel his warmth beside me, even though he’s on top of the blankets. He smells like fresh rain, and even though I hate rain, the smell on him is nice.

He turns to me, and smiles a genuine smile. For once, I think I’m seeing a part of the real Emery, who is hidden under the surface of a badass criminal. “Well River,” he murmurs, staring back up at my ceiling. “I’m going to talk to you.”