eli
portland, oregon 2014
10:13 A.M
“Eli!”
Eli shot up with a start, wondering if he had been dreaming or not.
“Eli!”
That little hope that maybe it was a dream was shattered by the blood-curdling scream of his little sister. He clumsily climbed out of bed and jogged to Rosie’s room, opening her door to see her knees pulled up to her chest, and he eyes covered with her blanket.
Eli climbed into bed next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
“Rosie?”
The look of absolute terror she gave him when she looked at him confirmed his suspicions; her nightmares were back.
He knew it wasn’t easy for Rosie; a 13 year old girl who still sleeps with a stuffed animal and a nightlight is bound to get constant teasing from her peers, and she did. She was constantly coming home with a tear-stained face and her mother often complained about the amount of calls she received from her throughout the day. Eli didn’t mind, though. “He would always be there for her,” he often told her. And he meant it.
They laid down under the heart-covered comforter and Rosie told him about her recurring dream. Eli played with her hair and told her things such as, “It’ll be ok,” and, “I’m right here,” and, “It was just a dream, it’s over now.” And soon she went to sleep to him humming a tune his mother used to sing to him.