As I step all the way in, the heat and steam let me vulnerable, even if it’s for a moment. When I let my guard down, the hollowness that always creeps up on me hits me hard, and the realization that she’s never coming back invades my thoughts.
“I never want to be in a relationship like theirs,” Nik says, her eyes starting to fill with soft tears as she stares at me under the covers.
We lay there hiding in my bedroom as we listen to our parents argue once again.
“Never,” I say confidently.
“Will you make sure of it?” Her eyes plead.
Reaching out, I hold up my pinky to her, and she quickly intertwines hers with mine.
“I promise, I will always protect you.”
It was a declaration I’d taken seriously as we went through High School and beyond. Leaning my head against the wall, I let the tears flow. I miss her so fucking much. She’s never coming back. I will never be able to hug her, fight her, console her. Since Nik’s death, I’ve been plagued with those dreams—they must just be my brain’s way to deal with it. Vivid nightmares often wake me up in cold sweats riddled with guilt.
I must have been under the water for a while because I start to feel the heat from the water dissipate and the cold take over. I quickly wash and step out.
Drying myself off, I mentally force myself to armor up, but I can’t help when my mind drifts back to earlier in the day, and the man in the elevator.
That strange sensation jolts through me again, just from thinking back to when his eyes had locked onto mine. This pull toward another person is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. His eyes had held an expression of familiarity, as if I’ve seen them a thousand times before. Like they’ve hurt me, hated me, loved me, worshipped me—every emotion peeling through my layers, making me raw.
So many questions race through my head. Why, why is this man taking over my headspace and making my body crave something that it feels like it’s been yearning for so long but could never quite obtain? The emptiness I’ve always felt on some level seemed to retreat, and I’d felt strangely whole for a brief moment.
“Get a grip, Myssa,” I mutter to myself.
Slipping on my Tool shirt and cut-off sweats, I brush my teeth and fight with the tangles in my hair with a comb as I walk back into my bedroom.
The bed calls to me, and as reluctant as I’d like to be, my eyes start to feel heavy as exhaustion catches back up with me. As I slide into bed feeling the coolness of the sheets wrapping me up, I fight with what little consciousness I have left that tonight will be different, but the sense of dread pours over me like an ice bucket.
I know it’s coming. It’s at night that he slips into my subconscious to play his little games. His seething tone whispers my name, taunting me. Fear takes over as I stand, frozen, watching the images of torture play repeat in my head.“Myssa.”My skin crawls with every letter hissed out.
It feels so real, I swear I can feel his breath against my ear as he taunts me. My very own reaper of dreams. For months,I’ve delt with his manipulation and guilt. The fear is mixed with anger at myself for not being able to reach her. His lies, and calculating manipulation of holding Nik’s soul as some sort of weapon against me, is agonizing.
Music is the escape I’ve depended on nearly my whole life to try to drown out my thoughts or the silence of the night. I roll over quickly and press play on my playlist while grabbing my earbuds. Anything to evade the night ahead.
The melodic notes of A Perfect Circle’s “3 Libra” remix takes over, offering a threadlike lifeline from here and the abyss of my mind. The darkness of the room consumes me past the existence of time and into the emptiness. That state of mind between consciousness and unconsciousness. My eyes open, and I stare at the blank wall in my room in front of me. I watch as letters form, each one slowly tracing its way into reality—at least I think it’s reality.
I push myself up from the bed and walk to the wall. My fingertips gently trace each letter etched in vibrant red, as if written in blood. But there’s no wetness when I rub the pads of my fingers together—just two simple words. Two words that torture me, bringing the guilt and shame back to the forefront. Two words that haunt me with so many questions. They follow me like a shadow in the daytime, only to devour me at night.
HELP ME.
I curl my hands into fists as the uncontrollable shaking takes over, my body is ready to let loose this frustration, hoping that somehow, I can breakthrough and find her. But I know it’s futile.
Once again, I’m at this crossroads and can’t help but stare at the words as if, maybe this time, they’ll tell me the answers I seek. She’s the only one who would send this to me. It all startedjust after I lost her. The pain soaks in as the tears form and fall fast and heavy, like so many times before. This powerless torture retching through my heart. “Nik.” I whisper, my voice breaking softly with each question. “How? How can I help you? Where are you? How can I get to you?” No answer. All I can hear is the music playing in my headphones. “God, Nik, can you hear me? I’m trying. I’m fucking trying!” Frustration floods me, and I slam my fist against the wall.
Why does this keep happening?” As if on cue, the taunting voice that curses me drowns out my music. Did I do something in this lifetime to be forced into the revolving door of torture? The fine hairs on the back of my neck fan out to create goosebumps that ripple throughout my skin. His malicious tone toys with my emotions, and the exhaustion of the games he continues to play inflames my hatred further.“Mysssa... Myyyssssaaaa.” The deep hiss in his voice echoes in my ears, making my blood boil. “Jasper,” I seethe.
He thrives on my anger, lives for the wreckage he brings. And I can’t stop my feelings every time he finds his way to me. He chuckles with a sinister click of his tongue.
“Oh, now, Myssa, when are you gonna learn? You won’t win this battle. She’s mine now, and you willneverfind her.”
“Fuck you,Jasper. Iwillfind her,” I vow through clenched teeth.
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Who knows? Maybe you’ll surprise me, but my bet…mmm,sorry, just doesn’t look promising.” His snicker lingers in the air.
“Why don’t you just show yourself and get this over with, or is this all just my self-conscious playing tricks on me?” I mutter, not really buying my own words.
“Guess you’ll have to find us to find out,” he whispers, so close to my ear it startles me.
