It wasn't that she wasn't tired. She was, down to the bone, but every time she closed her eyes, she was treated to the memory of her house splintering into a million pieces, along with all her hopes and dreams of a stable and safe future. It was just like when she moved in with Grandma. She hadn't been able to fall asleep then either. Violent images had flashed in her mind then too, visions of everything she ever knew being ripped apart at the seams. Maybe not just like those nights, Erin reminded herself. Those waking dreams had been drenched in blood and death. No one had been hurt today. John had saved her from that. She hadn't been blown to pieces and neither had he. They were safe. Or were they? Erin had believed her grandmother all those years ago when she had stroked the hair back from her forehead and calmed her fears. She’d believed the promises that someday the pain would fade. She’d trusted that she would be able to beat back the swells of pain and fear that surrounded her, that if she worked very hard she could build a protective barrier of safety that would keep all the uncertainty at bay.
