"Not Fair

John could feel Rebecca’s heart against his side. A hummingbird flutter vibrating their chilled flesh even as she drifted back towards sleep. He shifted closer and she resettled in the crook of his arm.

This was new and startling. Hearing her scream in the dark filled him with sorrow and aching rage. Greg Stillson had torn her world asunder. It galled and chilled the soul that John owed the manipulative man a debt of gratitude. Without him, without Rachel, Rebecca would not be lying beside him.

John lay back and stared at the ceiling, his eyes wide and unblinking. Love and hate, forgiveness and rage. Just another series of incongruities he would have to live with or lose his sanity to the gift that whirled and sparked in his tired brain. Rebecca had said the words that night in the ambulance not so long ago. Now he spat them into the darkness with silent fury.

“Life’s not fair.”

Not fair to crush a young girl’s life into the dirt and mire. Not fair to taunt the rich and poor alike with tissue paper dreams. Not fair to hold the world hostage on a mad man’s leash.

John’s large hands clenched the sheets, kneading them into a sodden mess. He forced the fingers to relax and slowly rise to massage his throbbing temples.

Not fair to lie awake at the mercy of a gift he never wanted and now hated and loved with equal verve.

Not fair.

He turned onto his side and closed his eyes. Rebecca stirred and spooned against him, lost for the moment in dream. John kissed her hair and smelled ashes. His head pounded incessantly and he smothered a sob into his pillow. Drawing deep, ragged breaths against the cotton until he fell into a leaden slumber.