Demon
Chapter 50

Michael

It’s been a long week. I’ve been back at work every day, but I check on Ethan as soon as I get home. Laura has been making them dinner every night, so I bring it over to them. I can tell they really appreciate it.

Ethan seems to be improving a little. He really has to keep up with the medicine though. As soon as it wears off his back starts killing him again, so he has to take more. It even wakes him up at night. He says the meds are the only thing that let him sleep at all.

I’ve mostly been trying to leave them alone. I’ve been pretty much just dropping off their dinner then going home. No smoking, no gaming. I feel guilty about keeping him up late playing video games, and keep thinking that if I hadn’t done that he wouldn’t have been so tired at work that he fell. He hasn’t said anything about blaming me, but I blame myself.

At least, I must be blaming myself, judging by my crazy dreams. Ever since the other morning when I had another nightmare, they have come back with a vengeance. I don’t know whether it’s just that I’m not smoking pot this week. I know that wasn’t the problem when I had that first one, since I had smoked a ton the night before.

I think that now my insane head has decided to start screwing with me even more. My nightmares used to be about stuff like bombs dropping over in Afghanistan. But they’ve gotten a lot closer to home. I’m pushing Ethan off of cliffs, or doing something that puts my family in danger, or replaceing them dead and mangled somewhere. These aren’t as violent as the bomb dreams, but they are so much more personal that it seems worse. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me, but I’m starting to feel desperate again.

Laura was happy to have me stay home for the first couple of nights, but I know that all my thrashing around at night all over again is making her miserable. And Timothy seems to be noticing it a lot more now, maybe since he was here that first morning and it scared him.

When I get home, Laura has packed up another dinner for them. This is like the sixth night in a row that she’s done this. She really is being so sweet.

I’m glad that I don’t have to work tomorrow. I haven’t been able to sleep for days and I’m exhausted, so I’m hoping that tonight I’ll get some rest. And hopefully not disturb her again.

“Thanks for the dinner. I’ll go give it to them, and be back in a few.”

She nods and gives me a tired smile. Her blonde hair is up in a messy bun, and there are dark circles under her beautiful eyes. I have this flash of guilt, because this whole thing is so unfair to her. For months I’ve either kept her awake or driven her crazy by staying out late. I’m a shitty husband. Fuck me. I feel worthless.

I get over there, and Ethan hears me coming and manages to sit up on the couch. Jim has been working all week - he just took Monday off to take Ethan to urgent care, but with Ethan out sick their boss told Jim that he can’t spare him at all. They’ve been super busy. So anyway Ethan has been alone during the days.

I put the casserole down on the table. “Thanks, man,” Jim says. “Your wife is an angel. Tell her thank you for us. I’m gonna hate going back to pizza every night when she finally gets sick of doing this.”

“You’re right, she’s an angel. She really wants to help out. I’ll tell her you said thank you again.”

Jim goes to the kitchen to get them out some plates and stuff. Ethan tries to get up from the couch, but grimaces and sinks back down again.

“Shit,” he says. “I tried to go longer between doses today, and I’m paying for it. Could you do me a favor and go get me a pill, Mike? The bottle’s on the counter in the upstairs bathroom.”

“Sure,” I say, and go up the stairs. I’m glad that the drugs are helping Ethan with the pain. And helping him sleep. I’m almost jealous. I wish I had some drugs that would help me sleep.

I go in the bathroom and rummage around on the messy counter to replace the pill bottle. I check to make sure I have the right one. Yeah, the label says Oxycontin, I remember that’s the name of what he’s taking.

I open the lid and shake one out into my hand. A couple of extra ones slip out. The bottle is still over half full. I’m about to put the extra pills back into the bottle, but something stops me.

I need to sleep. Since I haven’t been smoking pot this week, I can’t stay asleep, and it’s becoming a real problem again. I know these are for pain, but Ethan says they really do put him right to sleep, until his back starts hurting again.

I look into the bottle again. Still plenty of them in there. He wouldn’t notice just a couple of them missing.

I shouldn’t do it. But I do it anyway. I slip the extra two pills into my pocket.

I feel my ears burning when I walk back down the stairs and hand Ethan his pill. “Here you go, dude.”

Jim is ready at the table for them to eat. I look at them, then down at the floor. “Um, okay,” I say. “Enjoy the food. Have a good night. Feel better, Eth.”

I’m a goddamned thief. But I’m excited to have these tucked away in my pocket. I’ll hold off on using them, unless I really need to. But I’m glad to know they’re here.

In the meantime, I need something to settle my mind, so I pop open a beer when I get back, and sit down to dinner with Laura and the kid.

“They said thank you again,” I tell her. “I don’t think they’ve had food this good since they moved out from their parents’ houses. It’s really nice of you.”

“Well, I’m glad to help,” she says, putting some food on Timothy’s plate.

I dig in. “You know, this is really good. You’re a great cook. Thank you.”

She smiles so sweetly at me, that it just hurts to see it. I don’t deserve her. She doesn’t deserve all the trouble I’ve been causing.

I‘m already finished with my beer, so I go get another.

Michael’s

It is anguishing to watch him try to hide his despair. His restful nights have come to an end. Every night for the past week his mind has been buzzing with dreadful images which surface the moment he manages to drift off to sleep. The marijuana had already begun to lose its effectiveness in preventing the dreams, and Michael was having to consume more in order to keep the nightmares in check. But the total lack of the substance since Ethan’s injury has been devastating to my dearest one’s psyche.

He replaces himself in a horrible cycle of repeatedly waking up in a panic from dreams that depict the gruesome deaths of his loved ones. He can doze for no more than a few minutes at a time before it happens again. He disturbs his wife repeatedly every night.

She is particularly upset that she is losing sleep tonight, because she is in the midst of her working weekend. She spent the entire day Saturday at work, with Timothy coming again with her to the salon because Michael was at work on his ship. In the morning she will work again, but since Michael will be home, Timothy can stay with him. However, Laura is dismayed knowing how exhausted she will be at work without having gotten sufficient rest.

This night is particularly trying. Despite having consumed numerous alcoholic beverages, rest eludes him. Finally, after jolting awake for the fourth or fifth time, sweating and gasping, Michael gets up to go to the bathroom. It is nearly four o’clock in the morning. This last dream looms before his eyes, a wrenching image of himself wracked with sobs as he clutches the dead body of his wife. He wretchedly wishes that they could both get some rest in the few hours before Laura must arise and prepare to leave for work.

He blearily decides to resort to the use of the pills he had pilfered from his friend’s bottle of medication. So desperate is he for relief, that he impulsively downs both pills together, swallowing them with a handful of water from the bathroom tap.

In a few minutes, he returns to the bed. Laura has fallen back to sleep, and her quiet breathing soothes him as he lies beside her, trying to forget the vision of her mangled corpse that dominated his most recent dream. As the medication dissolves and enters his bloodstream, it assists him in falling to sleep.

It is a blessed, dreamless, sound sleep.

They both finally are able to rest, deeply, peacefully. It is the most restorative sleep they have had in days.