AllFreeNovel
Share Us
With eyes closed, I savor this moment because it’s to be our last. And in a bloodstained field, in a foreign land, a former captive said to her captor, “Thank you for being my best and worst memory.”
And in return, he smiled because she was finally free.
One Year Later
“OH, POOKIE, YOUshouldn’t spoil me like this!” shrieks the irksome blonde, twirling her wrist so the light can catch her diamond bracelet.
“Only the best for my girl.”
There is only one suitable response for such a puke-worthy reply—an eye roll. But I quash down my need to vomit and wait in the shadows because this is all about timing.
Time.
The only thing that has been my constant companion for the past year.
They say time heals all wounds, but they’re wrong. Yes, time moves on, allowing distance to pass from the one event that changed your world forever, but that doesn’t help lessen the suffocating feeling whenever I think of…him.
A year ago, I was granted my freedom, and although every bone in my body rebelled at the thought of leaving, I took it, nonetheless. I took the keys Saint gave me, punched in the address to the airstrip, and I drove.
The entire time, all I wanted to do was turn the van around and go back, but I didn’t. I kept the tears away because I had cried enough. Once I arrived at the airstrip, I was seen by Pavel’s friend who was a doctor. He stitched me up, as it was only a flesh wound, and gave me the okay to fly.
The pilot didn’t ask questions as neither of us were in the mood for small talk. The moment I stepped foot onto the small plane and buckled up, I felt like I could breathe for the first time in a long time. The entire flight, I peered out the window, wondering how the world below could have caused me so much pain. It appeared so small, so insignificant, but it changed me forever.
When the pilot, who didn’t bother to give me his name, landed in London, he wished me luck. I was on my own, but that suited me just fine because I knew from then on out, I would only have myself to rely on. I changed clothes on the plane, so I didn’t resemble a mess, but I was certain the moment I stepped into the real world, I would be spotted for the imposter that I was.
Before leaving the plane, I gave the pilot Saint’s things, as he had left his passport and belongings in the van. He nodded, but of course gave me no hint as to whether he would see Saint or not. With nothing holding me back, I grabbed my suitcase and re-entered the world.
At first, it was too much, too fast, and before I even reached the terminal, I hid in the bathroom three separate times. There were too many people, and a bout of anxiety tackled me from nowhere. I felt suffocated among the crowd, and I needed some time to gather my bearings before I boarded the plane.
I hadn’t been around new people in a long time, and it was difficult not knowing who to trust. Back in Russia, I had to be on my A game, but here, I was just another passenger going home. When I finally had the guts to emerge from the restroom, I checked in and was surprised to see that I was seated in first class.
I was welcomed onto the plane like royalty, but if they knew what I’d done, their opinion of me would have surely been tarnished for good. I gripped the chair beneath me, certain my ruse would be up at any moment, and I would be hauled off the plane and punished for my crimes.
But that never happened.
I was offered a glass of champagne and satin pajamas instead.
When the pilot announced it was time for departure, I held my breath, but when the plane took to the skies, I realized it was really over.
I was free.
I was beyond exhausted, but I was too afraid to sleep. I didn’t trust anyone, a bad habit I’d picked up, thanks to being subjected to events that shaped me into this paranoid, defensive person. I wanted to lower my guard, but when the flight attendant asked if I wanted chicken or beef for dinner, I eyed her like she had slipped poison into my meal.
I was too paranoid to eat or drink, so I simply sat silently, on high alert, awaiting the next threat. My strange behavior didn’t go unnoticed by my fellow passengers. But it was a taste of what I was to face when I finally arrived home.
When the plane’s wheels touched down in LAX, I let out a silent sob. I had made it. It felt like a dream as I disembarked and stepped foot onto home soil. I had envisioned this day for so long, but now that it had arrived, the feeling was bittersweet.
I was home, but my heart was still in Russia, or god knew where.
A man held a sign with my name, my new name, that is, as I stepped into the airport. Just like the pilot from the charter plane, he didn’t talk much. He walked me through customs, and then we drove and drove until we reached a small city in California. We were nowhere near LA, but that suited me just fine.
As we drove into this town, the welcome sign stated the population was just over seven thousand. I was to make that number a plus one. The driver gave me a credit card and a cell phone, as well as some cash. When I asked who organized all this, he said W. Daniels aka Saint.
My heart grew heavy as I knew all of this was possible thanks to Saint and Pavel. I owed them my life.
Only when I locked the door and turned on all the lights in my new home—as I was afraid of the dark—did I allow myself to grieve. I held it together until this moment. I slid down the door and peered around at my beautiful belongings, sobbing into my hands. I was happy, but my happiness had come with a price.
This was supposed to be the ending where I spent the rest of my life with Saint. But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, I realized this ending was the one that set us both free. But it hurt to be without him, and even when the nightmares faded, that pain was always there.
