I don't own it.
Katie had eaten six slices of French toast before she was full. Greg had tried to stop her ― the food was too rich after the little she had eaten for the past month. His attempts weren't great, however, so she had finished it off, getting sick at the end and running to the bathroom.
She came out, smiling apologetically, bringing her plate to the sink and washing it automatically. She looked out the window at the stars. "This is all so fast. Yesterday I was still...there. And now I'm here, and my parents are coming, and everyone's going home." She paused. "How weird is that?"
Greg nodded, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. He sat on the couch and picked up the remote absentmindedly, turning the TV on. Katie sat on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest and staring with wide eyes at the screen. Greg flipped through channels, finally settling on a Friends re-run.
He was surprised to hear Katie laugh. A small giggle as Joey said a particularly funny line. Then she broke into huge, chest-racking sobs.
Greg watched, helpless, as the young girl's body shook from the pain of letting out all the anger, frustration, fear ― the feelings she'd had for the past months. He didn't touch her. He couldn't. It'd just make it worse.
He slid off the couch and came nearer to Katie, trying to decide whether to wrap his arms around her or let her finish it out herself. He decided on the first one.
The sobs stopped momentarily as Katie drew back, her eyes still closed. Then she leaned forward into the embrace cautiously, not letting herself put her whole weight on Greg. Still afraid.
Eventually, the sobs subsided and Katie wiped her red face, smearing the moisture into her already damp hair. "Sorry." She muttered, not looking at Greg. The television emitted a boxed laugh. They both ignored it.
"Don't worry about it." Greg found that he too was shaking. Shaking with anger at the men who had put a thirteen-year-old girl through this.
Katie started yawning about an hour later. "Here." Greg said, moving off the couch. He got a spare blanket and through it over the cushions. "You can sleep here, or find another place."
Katie looked at the couch. "Thanks." She said, smiling timidly at Greg. She climbed onto the couch and laid down, bringing the blanket up to her chin. Her eyes seemed to glow in the darkness. "Goodnight Mr. Greg." She murmured.
Greg swallowed hard. God, this was harder then he'd thought. You're getting in too deep. He told himself. Don't get too attached, she's leaving tomorrow.
Greg hadn't even realized how tired he was until his head touched the pillow. Then he was out like a light.
It was two in the morning when the scream came.
Greg bolted out of bed, still half asleep. He knew where that scream had come from. "Katie!" he said, reaching her. "Shhh….it's okay. It's okay."
The girl looked up at him, horror in her eyes. "They — they were all dead."
"Who were dead, honey?" Greg tried to keep his voice even, though inside he was screaming.
"The boys. All of them were just lying there, with they're eyes open, looking at me. Like they were accusing me of something." She drew in a great, shuddering breath. "I guess you must thing I'm pretty stupid, being scared over a dream."
It took another fifteen minutes to get the girl calm enough to go back to sleep. Once she had, Greg sat down on the edge of his bed. He found himself thinking that it wasn't stupid to be scared over a dream. Not stupid at all.