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My feet lead me to another picture frame. In this one, which has always been one of my favorites, Hunter is reclining back against a big tree. I’m sitting between his legs, and Eliana is between mine. Ryder is between hers. Ryder just turned two and Eliana was twelve. Once again, their faces are marked with red.
As I look around, every picture appears to be the same.
Something sharp pierces the center of my chest, stealing all of my breath. I try to suck in air, but it’s like my lungs are clogged with sludge. Black spots dance across the edges of my vision, and my legs wobble, threatening to collapse. I teeter forward, my arms too weak to lift and catch myself so I don’t hit the wall.
One second I’m standing there, suffocating from the pain that fills every inch of my body, and the next, I’m falling into a void of darkness. Screams, loud and excruciating, reverberate inside my head. I try to block them out because I know what they are, but no matter how much I attempt to shove them behind the weak wall in my mind, they still tumble out, refusing to be silenced any longer.
Visions follow the screams. Those visions lead to nightmares of a past that I wish I could banish forever, but I can’t. I can’t keep pushing them away. Pushing them away doesn’t make them disappear. They’re still there, and will always be there, to torture and torment me.
My two beautiful children don’t deserve to be forgotten. If they are forgotten, it means that they never existed, and every moment spent with them should be cherished. I love Eliana and Ryder with all my heart and soul. They were my precious treasures, my angels. For years, I kept their memories locked away in my mind, because of the pain of losing them. The pain of not being able to save them, not being strong enough, not giving the bastards who took them from me what they wanted, was too much to bear.
No more.
There’ll always be guilt over what I couldn’t do, but my babies won’t be hidden away any longer.
“Don’t do it, Cat,” a voice says in my head. Athena. “It hurts too much to remember. Once you let them out, they won’t be pushed away again.”
Loud banging rattles the inside of my skull. I feel her presence trying to break free. Athena tries to protect me from the pain when she knows I’m no longer able to handle it.
“NO!” I mentally shout, refusing to let her steer me away from what I must do. She shoves harder, and I almost give in. Only my determination and sheer willpower allow me to keep her at bay. “My babies will not be silenced. They’re mine, Athena.”
“With the good, always comes the bad. Are you willing to remember them as you saw them last?” she asks, her voice becoming weaker. “Can you really live with those memories, with that pain, or will it consume you so completely, you’ll do anything to make it go away? To end it permanently? Think of Hunter, Cat. Think of what it’ll do to him, should your mind fracture beyond repair.”
Her question makes me pause. As painful as those memories were the last time I was with my children, I will endure them again if it means I can have all their good memories.
“Yes,” I whisper back to her. “I’m strong enough. I can do it.”
Athena retreats, but I still sense her presence. She’s not gone forever, just for the time being.
I open my mind, preparing myself for the paralyzing pain I know is coming, but before I can fully open myself, another stronger presence makes itself known.
“With pain comes more pain. Let them in, and know you’ll have the harsh hands of your husband when punishment becomes your only escape. Know that he’ll always give you what you need, even when that means making you bleed.”
A wail slides past my lips with Scarlett’s statement. Pain is her escape. She luxuriates in it and uses Hunter as a tool to seek it out. While I hate what she makes Hunter do to us, I also understand her. And we are an us. Scarlett is as much a part of me as Athena and Presley.
I won’t let her stop me, any more than I will let Athena. I am stronger than them. This ismybody,mymind,mysoul. They may have access to them, but I won’t let them control me anymore. They may slip through during my weaker moments, but right now, with what’s most important, I’m the one making the decision.
Scarlett says no more, but stays in the background, her ominous presence residing by Athena’s.
A new voice comes, this one so sweet and innocent, it brings tears to my eyes.
“It’s time, Cat,” Presley says gently. I feel the warmth of her touch on my hand. “Let them out. It’s time to bring them back into the light.”
A soft smile slowly lifts my lips.
It disappears when I open my eyes, and I’m standing in the corner of our living room. In front of me is a chair with the me of five years ago tied to it. I’m naked, every inch of my body covered in cuts, blood, and bruises, with tape covering my mouth.
It’s like I’m there, back in that place. Time has not passed, and I’m reliving the event as though it were happening for the first time.
I try to move, to go to her, but I’m frozen in place, unable to move or make a sound.
The me in the chair tries to scream, but her throat is so raw from screaming so much that nothing comes out. As if drawn by a magnet, we both look across the room. My daughter, naked and bleeding, lies on her side on the floor. She’s turned toward us, so I can clearly see her face. Blood slides from the side of her mouth and out of her nose. One of her eyes is black and swollen shut, and she has a cut above her eyebrow. Purple lines her neck from a bruising grip. Blood covers her thighs, and I know more bruises will be hidden beneath the bright red.
A deep grunt pierces the air, and I watch in horror as a masked boy gets up from the floor. Beneath him, my two-year-old toddler lays limply on the floor on his stomach, his limbs spread out from his bloody and abused body. The other two boys stand over him, having already found their sick pleasures and are fixing their clothes.
The past me gags, bile rising in her throat, and I remember swallowing it down because of the tape covering my mouth. If I allow it up, I’ll choke on my own puke and die. I can’t die. I have to find a way to save my children. I don’t care about myself. They can cut me up into a thousand pieces, torture me, rape me for hours, so long as my babies live.
Even though I know what’s going to happen next, I’m still not prepared.
