I should have pushed her away.

This was the thought that kept replaying in Kris’s mind ever since that day. The thought now existed as a frequent nightmare that kept Kris up on more nights than she could keep track of. When the first few moments of the night kept replaying at night, she was always unable to stop the inevitable from taking place within her nightmare. Unfortunately, the rest of the memory was like a hidden recording that she didn’t have access to.

It took her many days after that night to find a chance to talk to Layla once again. Not only because she was in recovery—her right eye was covered with an eye patch so it could heal from the recent trauma it had gone through. This was the unfortunate souvenir she had been left with as a result of the night in question and Layla had kept her distance ever since.

“Layla? Can I talk to you for a bit?” Kris said through Layla’s closed bedroom door, standing in silence as she waited for an answer that never came.

“I’m coming in,” Kris said hesitantly as she opened the door and walked into her sister’s unlit bedroom. The moonlight, which was shining through the sliding glass doors that led onto the balcony, was the only thing illuminating her sister’s room.

The moment she saw her, Kris knew her memories were still fresh in Layla’s mind.

The way she just sat there on her bed without moving, her head turned away as she stared outside with both of her arms hugging her knees close to her chest made Kris’s chest tighten. Layla gave no acknowledgement that Kris had even walked into her room.

Kris stood at the edge of Layla's bed fidgeting with her fingers, trying to decide what she could even say to her sister. Without thinking too much about it, she reached out for her, hoping to give her some sense of comfort.

“Layla…I—”

Inches before Kris’s hand touched her sister’s shoulder, Layla flinched and moved away. Strands of her hair fell in front of her face as she gripped her arms even tighter around her knees. Her body was visibly trembling.

At the sight of her younger sister cowering, Kris desperately tried to remember what had happened that night. It was a memory they both should have been sharing the burden of carrying, and should have been relying on one another for comfort, and yet Layla was left to suffer all alone.

Kris still carried the guilt of sharing the knowledge of an unseen world with Layla. She should have kept it to herself from the beginning. She processed the situation as being unfair, believing that the feeling of guilt didn’t equalize their pain.

“I—I’m sorry…” Kris said as her hands visibly trembled. “That night…”

Kris started to speak even though Layla didn’t; she was hoping that her sister was at least listening to her.

Layla remained unmoving and silent as she continued to sit on her bed, her face turned away from Kris. What Kris couldn’t see was that Layla’s eyes were hollow and distant. The more Kris continued to talk, the more Layla’s eyes became wider, her eyebrows furrowing together as her breathing became more ragged.

Suddenly Layla’s whole body began to tremble. Her head turned slightly, just enough for Kris to finally see the side of her face. Tears rolled down her cheeks as her hands came up to cover her ears seemingly to block out whatever Kris was saying to her.

“Shut up!” Layla yelled out loud, making Kris flinch.

“Shut up. SHUT UP!” Her voice rose higher and higher after every word she said. “JUST GO AWAY!”

Kris tried to keep her composure. She tried not to let any of her emotions show, but she failed as the tears she had been trying to hold back finally overflowed and fell down her reddened cheeks. Reluctantly, Kris walked out of her sister’s room for the last time.

And that the end of their short-lived bond, which they hadn’t known was limited from the very start. Kris never blamed her sister for hating her in the end.

It was only for a brief amount of time, but Kris had gotten so used to being near her sister, especially when Layla slept next to her. It was hard adjusting and sleeping alone from then on. Though it never helped her sleep any better, Layla’s presence reassured her that she'd always have someone next to her when she’d wake up from her nightmares.

From then on Kris’s nightmares only seemed to get worse. She refused to reveal what, exactly, was bothering her whenever her father tried to console her at night when he happened to run into her in the hallways as she was going to get a glass of water from the kitchen. Thankfully she wasn’t the type to wake up flailing and screaming in the middle of the night, which would have resulted in calling even more attention to herself from her family. Not that anyone else would’ve cared besides her father.

The same type of nightmares kept haunting her every night without fail in the years that followed, though she was always nothing but a spectator in seemingly random people’s lives. It felt as if she was flipping through random channels on a TV, except she couldn’t turn it off.

The dreams used to last a few seconds, but now they’d gotten even more detailed and lasted longer than a couple minutes.

Kris refused to even try to understand if they meant anything, or if they somehow revealed something more than just being random images in her mind. Instead, she learned how to coax herself awake when the things she saw got to be too much for her to handle.

She lost count of how many times she had woken up in a cold sweat right before scrambling to her bathroom in order to throw up into the toilet. Gasping for breath on the cold tile floor once she had finished retching up her guts until her stomach was left empty. Sometimes the exhaustion would be too much for her and she’d end up passing out on the floor until the following morning.

Even years later at the age of nineteen, Kris never once got a full night’s rest. The short hours of sleep became more obvious as the dark circles under her eyes grew more prominent against her vastly pale skin. At this point she had reluctantly accepted that it would always be part of her life and she had finally given up fighting it.

At least, that’s what she thought until she eventually met someone that would aid her in piecing everything together.

Kris remembered that fateful day in early October very vividly, and it was strange no matter how many times she recalled it.

It was the day they first met, and it was strange in the sense that she was always wondering how things would’ve turned out if the night had played out a bit differently.

It was around six in the afternoon and Kris was already passed out on her bed. Soft whimpers escaped her lips while she slept and was completely unaware that she had captured the attention of an unknown figure that was standing right next to her bed.

The figure looked down at where Kris was sleeping, staring at her pained expression as she dozed. It watched as tears fell down her cheeks, soaking her pillow; and it listened to her shallow breathing as she suddenly bit her lips and caused blood to drip down her chin.

Instinctively he reached out a hand to wipe the blood but stopped as he watched the injury on Kris’s lips suddenly heal itself.

What the?

His expression—eyes wide in disbelief—was short lived as he took notice of her damp cheeks once again. He let out a deep sigh, questioning how on earth his actions had now taken a complete 180 degree turn compared to half an hour ago when she was still awake.

With a bit of hesitation, he reached out to grab her hand. Iridescent pink light shot out from the spot where their hands made contact.

Kris's face immediately relaxed into a more peaceful expression. Her breathing returned to a normal rhythm and a small smile spread across her lips as the nightmare she was having receded into nothing.

It wasn’t until seven hours later, at around one-thirty in the morning, that Kris finally woke up. She rubbed her eyes with her bandaged left hand—which had been injured earlier that morning—trying to adjust to her dimly lit room.

I actually feel well rested for once. I still saw what I usually do but it eventually faded away. Why? That’s never happened before…

Kris stared up at her ceiling for a brief moment and frowned, wondering why her room looked slightly pink.

Then she felt it, the warm sensation of someone gently holding onto her right hand.

She looked to her right and saw a guy who seemed to be around her age. He was kneeling at the side of her bed and was fast asleep. His pointed ears were a dead giveaway to what he actually was. The word demon seemed to be more than fitting.

Kris finally noticed that the reason why her room was slightly pink was because a pink light was coming from their hands; or from his hand to be exact.

The only reason why she didn’t snatch her hand away from him was because she felt a soft, gentle pulse spreading up her arm and throughout her whole body, making her feel calm.

Kris sat up in bed, the sudden motion finally stirring him awake. His eyes opened slowly before he looked up at Kris. His unnaturally light turquoise eyes met Kris’s for the second time that day, creating a sense of deja vu for both of them.