Hand still gripping the back of the chair, Joel numbly, slowly sits down.
This is like those dreams he sometimes has - those dreams where Sarah is alive and everything feels disjointed and like everything is a lie. Those dreams where his grief is confused with the bewildering elation of her being alive. Those dreams where the part of him left hollow by her death is filled whole again. Those dreams where she's looking up at him with those blue eyes and telling him, Why didn't you come to find me? I've been waiting for you to find me, daddy. Or those dreams where she's saying, Why did you leave me, daddy?
Dreams he always wakes up from feeling disoriented and filled with terrifying hope that Sarah is alive, only for reality to come crashing down on him seconds later and the gaping hole of loss to tear open all over again.
He feels like he's simultaneously trapped in one of those dreams and only just woken up from one at the same time. The gaping hole of loss in his chest feels like it's been ripped wide open and bleeding.
He feels sick. He feels... fuck, he doesn't know. Like nothing around him is real. Derealised. Depersonalised from everything.
"Ellie," is all he says, soft, vacant but commanding. An unspoken command for her to stop speaking. Just stop.
Elbows propping on his knees, he drops his head into his hands. It's on the tip of his tongue to tell her to leave. To tell her to get the hell out of his sight. But somewhere within the fog of shock in his head, he knows he can't send her back out there, not after having almost fucking lost her, too.
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This is like those dreams he sometimes has - those dreams where Sarah is alive and everything feels disjointed and like everything is a lie. Those dreams where his grief is confused with the bewildering elation of her being alive. Those dreams where the part of him left hollow by her death is filled whole again. Those dreams where she's looking up at him with those blue eyes and telling him, Why didn't you come to find me? I've been waiting for you to find me, daddy. Or those dreams where she's saying, Why did you leave me, daddy?
Dreams he always wakes up from feeling disoriented and filled with terrifying hope that Sarah is alive, only for reality to come crashing down on him seconds later and the gaping hole of loss to tear open all over again.
He feels like he's simultaneously trapped in one of those dreams and only just woken up from one at the same time. The gaping hole of loss in his chest feels like it's been ripped wide open and bleeding.
He feels sick. He feels... fuck, he doesn't know. Like nothing around him is real. Derealised. Depersonalised from everything.
"Ellie," is all he says, soft, vacant but commanding. An unspoken command for her to stop speaking. Just stop.
Elbows propping on his knees, he drops his head into his hands. It's on the tip of his tongue to tell her to leave. To tell her to get the hell out of his sight. But somewhere within the fog of shock in his head, he knows he can't send her back out there, not after having almost fucking lost her, too.