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I closed the curtain between us, knowing arguing anymore would be pointless. I had to admit, there was a familiarity in the back and forth between us, that I had missed. It was the way we had been when we were together before – playfully argumentative. Feeling that familiarity brought back so many good memories for me of the two of us, and it reminded me of who I was – or at least who I had been before. It made me long to be that version of myself again and that hurt in some ways, but in others it gave me hope. If I could remember that version of myself and have small bursts of her making an appearance, maybe I could get back there one day.
I tried on three different sizes of jeans before I found a pair that fit me. I was shocked to discover I had dropped four dress sizes since the last time I shopped, before I was taken. Once I had the size correct, I put aside three pairs all the same design, but different colors – one black, and two different washes of blue. Harris had picked out some yoga pants and leggings too, so I added a pair of each to the ‘keep’ pile and threw the rest aside.
I was midway through trying on a soft wool sweater which, I had to admit, felt wonderfully smooth and luxurious, and was the prettiest shade of sky blue, when a loud piercing alarm erupted above me, scaring me half to death.
Loud noises were a trigger for me. I knew that. I also knew why. Soloman would pump loud, terrifying noises into the cell that he kept me in, often just as I was drifting into a sleep. It got so I was terrified to allow my eyes to close, knowing what would come.
Ever since I got out, any loud, sudden noise would cause my heart to pound and my hands to shake as I was instantly taken back to that hell and to everything that had happened there.
This time was no different. I dropped the sweater to the floor as I threw my hands up over my ears, a small cry of fear escaping me. Instinctively I stumbled back to the corner of the room and curled myself up tightly, my whole body vibrating hard. I tried to convince myself I wasn’t back there – to cling to logic and the fact I knew I was in a store and the sound was just an alarm of some type, but my mind fought against me, images of Soloman flashing up one after the other. I could feel the rough walls of the cell at my back, the freezing cold concrete floor underneath me, as I was thrown right back there in my mind. The smell of mold and damp filled my nostrils, as the alarm morphed into the sound of a woman’s screams, which he would play so loud it would shake the walls around me. He would play it for so long that I would start to lose my mind. I would start to question if it were actually my own screams I could hear – if I were the one screaming.
“Evie?” I felt hands touch my arms and jolted back into the wall, away from the touch, violently, hitting my head, back, and elbows.
The pain was enough to bring me back a little. The screams died out and the alarm sound returned, then that stopped and there was silence all around me once again.
“Evie, can you hear me?” Harris said. I ripped myself from the memories that were trying to pull me in, and looked up to where Harris was knelt on the floor before me. He was staying back enough so he wouldn’t touch me, his hands held out before him like he wanted to reach out for me but dare not.
I looked around me, trying to work out where I was, as the fog cleared from my mind little by little. The piles of clothes reminded me. I looked down at myself, praying I had clothes on, then panicked and attempted to cover myself when I found I was in only my panties and bra, all of my scars on display for Harris to see.
“I…sorry,” I gasped, not realizing how breathless I was until that moment. “I’m okay.”
Harris was keeping his eyes on mine mostly, but I didn’t miss the small glance down to the jagged scars across my stomach, or how tense his jaw was as he tried hard not to show me anything he was feeling. He had seen them.
“They were testing the fire alarms,” Harris told me. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yeah. I just…loud noises. I told you I was messed up,” I tried to laugh, but it fell flat.
“Let’s get you up,” he reached for my hands, but stopped short when I kept my arms firmly wrapped around my scars to hide them.
“I…I’m good. You can…” I moved my eyes to the, thankfully still closed, curtain.
“I don’t want to leave you when you’re still shaking so badly,” he sighed. He was right about the shaking. My whole body was rattling so hard it was making my head hurt.
“Harris,” I squeaked emotionally. I didn’t want him to leave either, but I also didn’t want him to see the state of my body any more than he already had.
“You don’t need to hide from me, sweetheart,” he said softly. He slowly placed his hand on my knee and ran his thumb back and forth over the skin there. “I see you. I’ve always seen you, just like you saw me. These scars, they just show me another side of the amazing strength I know you have inside of you.”
“No,” I whimpered. “You’re wrong. I’m n-not strong. I was, but now…now I’m j-just broken, Harris. Broken and Ugly, just like my body.” A sob slipped out with the last word, and that opened the floodgates as my pain poured from me. Harris gathered me up and set me down in his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around me and cocooning me away from everything but him.
“I know it feels that way, sweetheart. Trust me, I know. But you’re wrong. You’re not broken. You are far too strong a person to ever be broken by anyone or anything. You forget how well I know you,” he told me gently.
“Knew me,” I sniffled. “I’m n-not the same person anymore. I wish I were. I’d love to be that happy, hopeful kid you knew before, but life sucker punched me a few times since then and now….now all that’s left is this p-pathetic shell who can’t even s-seem to stop crying!”
“Stop that. Stop being so fucking tough on yourself. Think of what you’ve been through. Imagine if someone else had been through all of that – me or one of your brothers. Would you expect us to just get over it and be fine, because I can tell you from experience, that just isn’t possible. Life sucker punched me too, pretty fucking hard, and I thought I was broken. I almost gave up at one point, Ev. I didn’t want to live with all the fucked up shit that I had seen and been through. I just wanted to make all of the pain and the anger, and the fucking nightmares stop,” he growled emotionally.
Tears filled my eyes as I looked up at him. I hated to think of him hurting that much that he had gotten to such a terrifying place.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered as I reached a shaking hand up and cupped the side of his face, just needing to try and take some of the pain from his eyes.
“The point is, I didn’t give up. I couldn’t, because it wasn’t just about me. I had to think about the guys – my brothers. We needed each other and if I had been selfish and given up, it would have just hurt them more. So I fought to get my shit together. It was so fucking hard, and there is no way I would have done it without the others at my back the whole way. They made me stronger, and they pushed me to fight to keep going.”
“I can’t stand to think about you not being here,” I told him honestly.
“And neither can I, you. I need you to fight too. I need you to realize how damned strong you are and keep going. Your family needs you to fight. We all care about you, and we cannot lose you. Do you hear me?”
“Keep breathing,” I uttered as the memories of the countless times I had told myself that again and again played out in my head.
“Keep breathing?”
