I continue to wake throughout the night. Terror after terror wake me up, screaming silently. At first, Francis flinches back every time. "It's been like this all day," Marrianne explains as she wipes me down. "I don't know what happened to this child, but it must have been incredibly traumatic. It's going to be hard to get her fever down if she can't get any good rest." She sounds worried. I don't want to worry her. But every time I close my eyes, I have to relive all of that suffering. I don't want to be scared of sleeping, but if this happens every time, I don't know what I'm going to do...

I don't know how many times I wake through the night. It all drags together into a blur of fitful sleep, nightmares, and brief periods of being cared for while so tired I can barely open my eyes. By the time the sun comes up again, I hardly feel like I've gotten any sleep. It doesn't look like Marrianne did either. I can hardly move at all. Her eyes seem groggy as she cooks breakfast for us. Francis eats quickly. He still eyes me with worry on his face, but he seems way more concerned for Marrianne. He tells her to get some sleep today. She looks at me with concern, but agrees.

I don't want to worry her so much, I don't want her to feel bad. But is there anything I can do? I can hardly move I'm so tired. But I can't get any sleep either. Once we are finished with breakfast, she stands me up. She changes my clothes, wraps me in a blanket, and picks me up.

"We're going to my friend's house now," she explains, even though I don't know what that means. After walking outside, she locks the door behind her. I look around tiredly. Everything feels hazy and it's hard to focus, but I try my hardest to look around so I know where I am. Once I'm sure I have the spot memorized, I've used up what little energy I had, and lose consciousness once more. As the visions come back, I cling as tightly as my weak, tired muscles will allow. The warmth is barely enough to stave off the worst of it. Hot tears drip from my eyes, but I manage to endure. I don't know how long this goes on for, the next thing I know, we've arrived at a new place.

My eyes flutter open just a little. I can hear Marrianne knocking on a door. It opens, and I hear a new person. "Well hello Marrianne, it's good to see you. Is... something wrong? Who's this little one?" A person Marrianne knows?

"Hi Heather, I found her by the well, she has a terrible fever."

"That's... just like you, come on in." We move through the doorway, and I hear some new sounds. Children's voices.

They sit at a table. Marrianne sets down a basket. "You look terrible, have you been sleeping enough?" Heather asks. I let my tired head rest against Marrianne's side while they speak.

"No, I was up all night. She must have been through something terrible, she wakes up screaming every time she tries to sleep."

"Oh, that's terrible," Heather comments.

"I was hoping you could just watch her for a little while, so I can get some rest. I brought some food for the kids as thanks."

"That's not too hard, is there anything else I should know?"

"Well... she can't speak, it looks like the fever has taken a bad toll on her throat."

"Mm-hmm."

"She's not very good at eating hot food. And she burned her hands very badly last night. And she seems to be scared of... various things."

"Various things?" Her tone sounds doubtful.

"Well... The bells, she started crying when Francis came home, and after she burned her hands she seemed to be scared of the bandages, and of the porridge I fed her after she burned herself on it..." she trails off at that point. There are a few moments of silence. "Yes, yes, I know. But it's not like I can just leave a scared little girl all alone, right?"

There is a long sigh. "You really did take in a troublesome one, didn't you?" Go on, get some sleep. I'll try not to let her hurt herself anymore."

"Thanks a lot, Heather." I vaguely feel myself being moved to another somewhat prickly cushioned place. Another bed? It feels like a blanket is drawn over me. I'm so tired, now that I'm comfortable again, I slip away immediately.

Sure enough, I bolt upright a short time later to visions from my past. There were just so many endless beatings, it feels like I'm reliving a different one every time... My breath comes in gasps. I'm drenched in sweat again. I look around wildly. A woman I don't recognize approaches me. This must be Heather. She rubs my head a little. "It's fine, just fever dreams. Go back to sleep," she says gently. I lie back down. I'm still so tired...

I bolt upright again. I don't know how long it has been, but I don't feel like I've slept at all. Heather puts me down again.

This process repeats fifteen more times before lunch. Every dream is different, they're getting worse. I'm scared of sleeping. "I don't know what happened to you, I've never seen fever dreams like this before," she says as she feeds me spoonfuls of porridge at lunch. It's all I can do to open and close my mouth while my eyes wander. All around, there are other small children eating as well. They're younger than me, three to five years old, but seem to be feeding themselves without issue. Some of the youngest are not very good with their spoons though, and seem to be getting a good deal of the porridge all over themselves. Does this woman take care of small children?

After lunch, I continue my awful sleep. Eventually, Marrianne returns, thankfully looking much better rested. She thanks Heather repeatedly. Heather tells her to ask for more advice on what to do, saying I won't get any better if there's no way to get me to sleep. Marrianne thanks her again and we leave once more. It's pretty dark out, the sun is starting to go down. Marrianne is carrying me north now. It takes a long time to make my mind work through it, but her house was toward the south, so she's taking me somewhere else.

There are still so many people around at this time, their voices are a little overwhelming. They help me stay awake and focus though. I recognize where we are. We're near the northeast corner of the city. We finally arrive at a small house. It looks in worse repair than a number of other buildings, and the shape is different. And... there is some smell I don't recognize. It's really strong, and doesn't smell very good.

After she knocks on the door, an older woman opens it. "Marrianne?" she looks very surprised.

"Hi Mom," while holding me with one arm, they wrap their arms around each other.

When they separate, Mom asks, "What brings you here, and who is this?"

"I picked her up by the well, she has a high fever, but can't get to sleep."

"Her parents?"

I think Marrianne shakes her head. "I don't know. She's lost her voice, so I can't ask her."

"Well, come on in, I'll get you two something to drink." When we sit down inside, it's nice and warm. Marrianne keeps me on her lap. I can hear the crackle of a fireplace not too far away, I can't keep my eyes open at all anymore. As soon as my mind starts to slip away, the visions come back. The first thing I see is a handler standing over me, swinging a giant weapon down on me. I jolt awake, curling in to protect myself. My forehead strikes the edge of the wooden table, sending pain shooting through my head.

I vaguely hear concerned voices, but my ears are ringing and my whole head feels too shaken up to understand any of it. I can't concentrate on anything at all now. My injuries just keep increasing. I keep getting hurt again and again. All I want is to be able to rest, but sleeping is nothing but terror and pain.

I feel something. A strong, strange tasting liquid enters my mouth. It runs down my throat. It burns like fire, but I'm too sore and tired to even gag on it that much. Immediately, my head gets light. Like a strange floating feeling. I can feel my consciousness slipping away, but it's somehow separate from me. I can't control my body, so I watch myself finally give in to sleep.

The visions return like always. All of the pain, all of the suffering. I try to pull myself away from it, but cannot. I still have no control over myself. I watch, and watch, and watch. The despair multiplies itself over and over, every terrible moment playing on repeat before my sleeping mind. It feels like I'm trapped in an endless nightmare. With no sense of time, no ability to rouse myself, I sink deeper and deeper into the endless despair.

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My eyes slowly crack open. For the first time in as long as I can think of, no one is hurting me. No one is screaming at me, or insulting me, or afraid of me. How long has it been? Where am I now? What is happening?

I see Marrianne. The only one who hasn't hurt me. She'll help me! With all of my strength, I leap forward. I grab onto her, continuing to cry, and burying my face in her skirt. I can't stop myself. "Honey, what's wrong?" she asks, turning around. She rubs my head. It feels good. How long has it been? Eventually, her gentle hands and soft voice get me to calm down. My tears slow enough that I can start to think again. What day is it, what was happening before?

Things start to come back to me. I've had a fever. I... still have a fever. I still hurt all over. I can't think of how long I've been suffering through endless nightmares, but has it not actually been that long? I look up at Marrianne, but still can't make my voice work. I try to give her a questioning look, but don't know if she will understand.

She gently sits me back down on the bed, wiping at my still crying eyes. "You've been asleep since last night," she holds a hand to my forehead. "It seems like your fever is easing up. And you have much more energy now, it seems." She gives me a radiant smile. It's the first smile I've seen in... not that long actually. All of those nightmares only lasted one night? It feels like so much longer. Almost like my entire life up to this point. I don't understand it, but I never want to do that again.

"Now, back to bed little one. You still have a lot of resting to do before your fever breaks." She pulls up the covers again, and I lie down. I close my eyes, but don't feel sleepy. I'm tired, I'm hot, I'm sore all over. But I don't feel like falling asleep at all. So I just stay like that. I hear one bell pass, then another, and another. They continue to ring as I lie in bed, not sleeping at all. I keep getting more tired, but sleep never comes for me.

Lunch passes. Francis returns. Dinner passes. Night comes. By the time it is late at night, I am utterly exhausted again. I haven't gotten any rest at all, even though I've been lying in bed all day. Marrianne tells Francis how I've been sleeping much better today. I don't have any way to tell them that I can't actually sleep.

She puts me down for the night, going to sleep herself since I haven't been waking up constantly like before. But... I still can't sleep at all. I'm so tired I can hardly think. Exhaustion settles over my entire body like a massive weight. As I lie there, I can feel my mind. It needs sleep. However, there is no possibility of it actually sleeping because going to sleep is as terrifying as death. Even if I want it. Even if I need it. It will not happen.

The night passes. Francis is getting ready for work. Marrianne is making breakfast. She calls that the food is ready. I can't move at all. There is no energy left anywhere in my body. I'm seeing stars. My vision isn't working right. I can't hear things. My whole body feels like it's breaking down, because I cannot make my body sleep at all.

I'm vaguely aware that Marrianne is concerned. I think I see her face, she's saying something. I'm not sure how long it is after that point, when my mind is finally incapable of functioning at all anymore, and simply turns off. Unconsciousness takes me.

Then come the visions. Like always, they torment me with all that suffering, all over again. I wrench myself out again, bolting up in bed. I'm drenched in sweat. Marrianne looks extremely worried. I'm still feverish. After my moment of panic, I have no energy left, I can hardly even stay sitting up. Everything still hurts.

I haven't made any progress at all.

"When I tried to wake you for breakfast, you wouldn't even respond, I was so worried, dear, you almost scared me to death," she says, rubbing my hair gently. Even if I can't speak, I have to explain it to her somehow. Forget waking up constantly. If I can't even fall asleep at all, I'll never get better.

So I struggle as best I can to sit up in bed. I can hardly lift my arms, and she tries to stop me, but I look her in the eyes, trying to say that I have to tell her something. She stops and watches intently. Since I can't speak, I try to somehow move to show what I mean.

First, I turn my head, putting it on my hands like sleeping. "When you were sleeping..." she guesses. Then, I open my eyes, but maintain the sleeping pose. "You... weren't sleeping?" I nod. "Why not? You need to sleep if you want to get better," she looks kind of angry. I nod emphatically. I know. Nodding like that makes my head spin though, so it takes me some time to recover. "Then why?" I mentally flail a little trying to come up with a way to express it. It's hard to think. The best I can come up with is making claw shapes with my hands. I've seen people do that to indicate something scary before... I think. "Scary things? Your dreams?" You can't sleep because your dreams are scary? But you were doing it before, even though you woke up all the time..." I try to explain that by... I'm not sure what to do.

Then I think of something. I make the open eyed sleep gesture repeatedly, then shrug and shake my head. "You kept trying... but it didn't work?" I nod. "Why didn't it work?" I don't really know. So I just shrug, then make the scary hands, then shrug again.

"You don't know, the scary things maybe...?" She lets out a long sigh. Now that she at least has some idea of why it's happening, she can try to help. She thinks about it for a while. "Mother said not to rely on it too much, but I suppose I could use that drink that puts children to sleep..." She had something like that? She rummages around at the other end of the room for a bit, then returns with a small metal container. She pours a small amount of liquid out into a wooden cup.

"Drink this, it will put you to sleep. It'll let you sleep through the night without scary dreams. She hands me the cup. I smile and nod, thanking her silently. I drink down the small amount of liquid. It tastes like fire. I cough as it burns all the way down my already raw throat, but force it down. It doesn't take long before my head starts to go funny. Like I'm lightheaded, the sensations of my body drifting farther and farther away.

Before I go back to sleep entirely, she puts me on the chamber pot. It doesn't seem like I can even stay upright on my own. My vision seems to drift, even worse than any time before. What in the world is that drink?

By the time I get back to the bed, I feel like I'm swimming in my own head. My tired consciousness fades away. Then the nightmares return. Once again, my strange, swimming brain can't pull away from them. My body is useless, out of my control. I'm tormented by endless nightmares again.

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I'm in a dark building. I have to escape from the handlers. I swing into a dark alley. They're coming for me. But it's the men in metal armor that walk past, glowing lanterns cutting across the place I hide. I can't let Francis see me. He'll tell. The stones are icy cold, stabbing my feet. The voices of angry people shout insults. I run, and run, and run. The women at the well flee when they see me, the icy well water flying up to attack me. I keep running, avoiding the water, and the people as I try to hide from the visions. I recognize this place, it's near Marrianne's house. Maybe I can hide there? I run into the right building, slamming the door behind me to shut out the visions.

"What on Loqa?" I duck away from the voice, waiting for the blades or freezing water or acid to come down on me. When it doesn't, I look up again. Marrianne stands in the middle of the room, a small light in her hand. I run up and grab onto her skirt, crying again. "What are you doing out of bed?" Something about the way she says that...

I look around, confused. Am I awake?

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I'm still lying in bed. My feet are covered in cuts from running all over town barefoot in the middle of the night. I've been lying here, hardly able to move, throughout the entire morning. "It's my fault for giving it to you in the morning, I should have realized it would wear off in the middle of the night. I'm so sorry little one. It must have been so frightening waking up in the dark, all alone." That's what she said over breakfast. So today I've been trying to lie still. She checks on me once in a while, confirming that I'm still awake. Now that she knows, at least she knows what to expect and can try to help. Lunch passes, then dinner. Francis still says nothing, generally avoiding interacting with me at all.

Marrianne comes to me that night, asking, "So, no sleep today either?" I shake my head sadly. She frowns. I don't want to make her worried, what am I supposed to do?

She retrieves the metal flask and pours a little liquid into a cup for me. I reach out for it, then stop. That liquid, that's what put me to sleep. That's what made me suffer endless, bottomless nightmares with no way to escape. My eyes go wide and I jolt backward into the wall behind me.

Marrianne looks shocked. "What's wrong?" My eyes are locked on the liquid in the cup, the source of terror equal to everything I've endured up to this point. Because it makes me relive all of it, over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and-

I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head to try and break off my thoughts that are already spiraling out of control.

"You have to drink this, it will let you sleep through the night without nightmares," Marrianne urges me. Wide eyed, I shake my head. That isn't true. "It... doesn't?" she asks. Her expression seems stiff. "But you've been sleeping peacefully, haven't you?" I shake my head again. She fails to form words momentarily. I make the sleeping gesture, then the scary hands. "You still have nightmares? I nod. I start to see some sort of realization in her eyes. "Then why don't you wake up?" I shake my head flatly. "You can't." She doesn't say it as a question. "Those fever dreams that have been waking you up the moment you close your eyes... You have been going through them all night, unable to wake up?" I look away and nod.

I hear her voice catch. She's crying. "What have I done? If I can't get you to sleep, how am I supposed to help you?" My heart is breaking. I don't want to see her sad. I don't want to be the one who makes her sad. She's the only person who has ever really cared for me, and I'm making her sad because I'm just too broken.

That's always it. It's always my fault, always because I'm broken. Marrianne wants me to sleep so I get better. I can't sleep except by drinking that. It's the only way I'll get better. Even if every time I drink it, I have to relive all the pain. Which just makes it hurt more, so that I break even more. Even if I'm too weak, my only option if I want to stop making Marrianne sad is to move forward. I take the cup from her hands and drink it in one go.

She looks at me in shock. "Why. When you know it'll bring all those nightmares back?" I make the sleeping gesture, and give her a smile. I'll sleep for your sake, no matter what happens to me. Even as I am completely terrified, I still smile at her. Because I don't want her to be sad. She wraps her arms around me. It covers me in a warm feeling like I've never felt before. I lean into it as the floaty feeling pulls me away. Sleep overtakes me.

Then the visions come again. I see the handlers, the rail units, all of the people who have hit me, beat me, cursed me, run from me. But every time, I lean into the warmth that envelops me. There is more to my life than just the pain. I've met people who were nice, who helped me, who showed me warmth and caring. For every memory of pain, I hold tight to the few happy memories. It doesn't make it ok. For every good memory, I have thousands of bad ones. But it helps. While the painful memories rain down all around, I just focus on the good ones. Joe asking me why I was crying. Smiling at me, trying to cheer me up. Mary and Joe having a funny conversation. That woman washing my clothes. Francis not speaking up about me. And Marrianne. Even in my restless sleep, I can feel her warmth at my side, and it helps hold the painful memories at bay, just enough so they don't overwhelm me like before. My mind can finally find some level of peace in sleep.