knew.
“Maybe… she’s not ready yet… come back next year if you’d like her,” her voice sounded polar opposite and extremely firm. It sounded determined and backed with love. Millie was so elated and felt at home again as her insides fell back to where they belonged. But as the man curled his fist and walked away after a brief spout of irritation, Millie knew that he would be coming back and that next time she’d have to leave with him. Only next time, Baba wouldn’t be there to rescue her.
·
Millie woke up screaming and tearing at her sheets. Michael had unzipped the tent that she seemed engrossed in and shook her awake, which, at that point, seemed the only thing he was possibly able to do in order to wake her.
“Millie! Millie! It’s just a nightmare! Wake up!” Michael shouted into her strained face fractions of a moment before she opened her eyes. She panted and breathed in heavy, heaving breaths.
“What?” She asked in between heaves.
“It was just a nightmare,” Michael repeated, pulling her in close to him. He stroked the back of her tangled hair and repeated “Just a nightmare” over and over.
“Just a nightmare…” Millie’s voice resounded in a seemingly distant whisper. “Right…” she added more quietly, almost in silence.
“What’s wrong, Miss Millie? What’s wrong? What happened?” rang out a girlish voice from the tent’s entrance.
“Yeah, what’s wrong? What happened?” came an almost identical voice shortly after.
“Miss Millie—,” Michael began but was interrupted by Millie herself.
“I just had a nightmare, girls, that’s all.” She nodded her head in swift movements as though to persuade them with the over assurance in her body language.
“O…kay,” one of the girls replied tentatively; the other just blinked in reticence.
“Will you two please give Miss Millie and I a moment?” Michael asked in an artificially patient voice (because, really, he was quite annoyed). The two girls left after nodding and mumbling. They looked back before zipping up the tent. Michael could tell that the girls were worried about Miss Millie, and honestly, he was too.
“Millie,” he asked, “What’s going on?”
“It’s like I sai—,”
“Just a nightmare,” Michael finished, “You seem to have nightmares a lot.” He looked at her expectantly, with his eyebrows raised and eyes wide.
“Are you accusing me of something?” She asked, blandly, acting as though she’d been half asleep.
“I’m just trying to get to the bottom of the problem,” he replied. “No pressure, though, it’s all good. I just want to make sure you’re all right.” She looked away, which only intrigued Michael more. Her face was perfect to him, despite the puffy red eyes and nose that indicated that she’d clearly been crying. But it was the way the bridge of her nose slid gently like a crescent moon as the tip brushed the corners of her eyes. The shade of blue in her irises was so powerful, he swore he could see them pierce the darkness.
“I’m really fine, Michael,” she said, looking back at him with a sad smile, “But thanks, it means a lot.” She leaned forward and clasped her hand against his momentarily. “Good night.” He got the hint. After a brief awkward silence, Michael watched her face still studying the air beside her as he zipped up the tent and went back to his.
The mystery was ominous, and he had a dark feeling about it. He stewed over these types of thoughts, trying to piece together the puzzle of Millie’s actions.
“Maybe… she’s not ready yet… come back next year if you’d like her,” her voice sounded polar opposite and extremely firm. It sounded determined and backed with love. Millie was so elated and felt at home again as her insides fell back to where they belonged. But as the man curled his fist and walked away after a brief spout of irritation, Millie knew that he would be coming back and that next time she’d have to leave with him. Only next time, Baba wouldn’t be there to rescue her.
·
Millie woke up screaming and tearing at her sheets. Michael had unzipped the tent that she seemed engrossed in and shook her awake, which, at that point, seemed the only thing he was possibly able to do in order to wake her.
“Millie! Millie! It’s just a nightmare! Wake up!” Michael shouted into her strained face fractions of a moment before she opened her eyes. She panted and breathed in heavy, heaving breaths.
“What?” She asked in between heaves.
“It was just a nightmare,” Michael repeated, pulling her in close to him. He stroked the back of her tangled hair and repeated “Just a nightmare” over and over.
“Just a nightmare…” Millie’s voice resounded in a seemingly distant whisper. “Right…” she added more quietly, almost in silence.
“What’s wrong, Miss Millie? What’s wrong? What happened?” rang out a girlish voice from the tent’s entrance.
“Yeah, what’s wrong? What happened?” came an almost identical voice shortly after.
“Miss Millie—,” Michael began but was interrupted by Millie herself.
“I just had a nightmare, girls, that’s all.” She nodded her head in swift movements as though to persuade them with the over assurance in her body language.
“O…kay,” one of the girls replied tentatively; the other just blinked in reticence.
“Will you two please give Miss Millie and I a moment?” Michael asked in an artificially patient voice (because, really, he was quite annoyed). The two girls left after nodding and mumbling. They looked back before zipping up the tent. Michael could tell that the girls were worried about Miss Millie, and honestly, he was too.
“Millie,” he asked, “What’s going on?”
“It’s like I sai—,”
“Just a nightmare,” Michael finished, “You seem to have nightmares a lot.” He looked at her expectantly, with his eyebrows raised and eyes wide.
“Are you accusing me of something?” She asked, blandly, acting as though she’d been half asleep.
“I’m just trying to get to the bottom of the problem,” he replied. “No pressure, though, it’s all good. I just want to make sure you’re all right.” She looked away, which only intrigued Michael more. Her face was perfect to him, despite the puffy red eyes and nose that indicated that she’d clearly been crying. But it was the way the bridge of her nose slid gently like a crescent moon as the tip brushed the corners of her eyes. The shade of blue in her irises was so powerful, he swore he could see them pierce the darkness.
“I’m really fine, Michael,” she said, looking back at him with a sad smile, “But thanks, it means a lot.” She leaned forward and clasped her hand against his momentarily. “Good night.” He got the hint. After a brief awkward silence, Michael watched her face still studying the air beside her as he zipped up the tent and went back to his.
The mystery was ominous, and he had a dark feeling about it. He stewed over these types of thoughts, trying to piece together the puzzle of Millie’s actions.
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