Maybe You Loved Him

“Wake up,” Miri said, shaking me a little on my shoulder. “Desi.” When I opened my eyes, and saw her standing over me, her hair flattened on one side and wild on the other, she said, “You were dreaming.”

“Oh.” I sat up and pulled the comforter more tightly around me.

Miri ran her thumb over my cheek, wiping away a tear I didn’t know I’d shed. “And by the sounds of it, it wasn’t very good.”

I shrank back from her touch. “Sounds of it?” I tried shaking my head to clear it of the fogginess. What had I been dreaming about?

Miri backed away and sat on the edge of the couch, pulling the blanket over her lap. She looked at her feet, then out the window which was showing the first hints of daylight - she seemed to look everywhere but at me.

“Miri. What did I say?” I knew my voice was too harsh, but if I’d said something about Father or Hell that could hurt her, endanger her, I needed to know.