"I don't want to, I don't want to be with you!" Yolanda screamed.
Darkness. Not being able to see one's fingers before their eyes.
These sounds, bit by bit, tortured her sanity, hurt to the point of not wishing to live.
Perhaps Yolanda's voice was too loud, aroused Chris from downstairs!
Chris stepped on the staircase, running up quickly: "Yolanda, Yolanda!"
Yolanda was hiding in her blanket, shivering with fear, her body curled up into a ball, like a cat.
Chris pushed the door open and turned on the light.
He moved to the bedside, extended his arm and held Yolanda in his embrace.
"Yolanda, having a nightmare again? Don't be scared, I'm here."
He touched her, and Yolanda's back, face, all covered in cold sweat, her little face pale and her lips as white as paper.
Yolanda couldn't open her eyes, holding onto Chris's clothes tightly, burying her head in his chest.
"Chris, Chris..." she weakly called his name, her heart aching.
