AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I can barely keep my erratic breathing at bay. Panic is absolutely choking me as I press my back firmly against the wall in my closet. I can’t move or think or breathe. I can barely see straight because that panic is beginning to choke me. I wish I had the ability to meld right into the house…to disappear into the wall and become invisible.
The second gunshots started going off inside my house, I scampered out of my cozy bed and hid away like a coward in my closet. I feel so small and helpless, hidden in this tiny space, surrounded by the dark.
I have no idea where my dad is. Which honestly isn’t all that unusual. But I had figured…or at least hoped that he would come find me. That he would save me from whatever monsters are in our home.
So I just hid away and now I’m too afraid to move. I feel like my limbs are seizing, my chest is caving in. I can hear the man’s footsteps getting closer to my bedroom.
Realization hits that this man isn’t afraid of being loud. He is confident in the fact that no one will care about his presence. Which means he knows my dad isn’t going to come. That my dad isn’t somehow on his way to save me. That’s the only reason why he would feel so comfortable pounding his feet and whistling ominously. No one is here to stop him.
My door creaks open slowly as his loud footsteps get closer and closer to the closet. My already erratic breathing picks up to an audible level and I know he can hear me. There’s no way that he can’t. I’m willing to bet he can hear the pounding of my heart and the whooshing of blood in my veins.
The steps come to a halt right outside of my closet door and I squeeze my eyes closed. For a moment, my brain wants to trick me…make me feel safe. Like the silence means that he is gone and not waiting on the other side. But then the closet door swings open, ricocheting off of the wall with a loud bang that has me shrieking.
“There she is…I knew I’d find you, little traitor,” he sneers.
I don’t wake up with a jolt or a scream or gasping for breath like I used to. And I definitely used to wake up freaking out so hard that I could scream the house down. However, I am still covered in a light sheen of sweat and my heart's still pounding so hard that I can feel the blood throbbing inside of my head.
My nightmares never go away, even though it's been nine years since the night everything changed. My therapist says that someday I will get over it, that my mind will learn how to cope. I don’t believe her. I don’t ever tell her that I think she’s full of shit but she’sdefinitelyfull of shit. Some things are not cope-able. Yes, I am aware that isn’t a word but you get the point. I’m not delusional, I know that trauma can be difficult to get over and that it's possible to overcomesometraumas. I know it’s supposed to be all about baby steps and overcoming small hurdles but honestly…fuck all that. I truly don’t think that my personal trauma is something that will ever dissolve. I don’t believe for one second that I will get past this and stop having blinding moments of panic and anxiety.
Just like every single morning, I wake up in my bed covered in sweat with a rapid heart beat and the feeling of my throat closing in. The panic has a way of wrapping itself around my throat and squeezing like a boa constrictor. And every morning I keep my eyes glued to the ceiling as I try to force myself to calm down. I do all the different exercises that my therapist taught me. I take a few deep breaths through my nose as I find five things around the room I can see - a desk, television, doorknob, framed photo, and the bookshelf in the corner. Then I move onto the four things I can touch - comforter, scar on my hip, phone lying on top of my bed, and the silk of my camisole. Three things I can hear - the whirl of the fan, the sound of Aiden playing video games through the wall, and the rain pelting the window. Two things that I can smell - my pumpkin apple candle that my brother gifted me and my lavender laundry detergent that is clinging to my covers. And lastly, something I can taste…without thought, I bite down on my cheek until the metallic taste of blood fills my mouth.
Immediately, my heart rate slows down and I finally feel like the weight sitting on my chest has lifted. I close my eyes and take a deep steadying breath before I pull the covers away from my sweat-slicked body and climb out of bed. I quickly rip the sheets from the bed and toss them into a pile on the floor like they hold a goddamn disease before heading into the bathroom.
I turn the shower on and wait until the steam fills the room before I strip out of my sweaty pajamas and step inside. I let my head stay until the stream, the water drowning out the noise of the rest of the world. I’m such a fucking mess. I hate it. I hate how weak I am. Nine years and I still wake up in a panic. Nine fucking years and I am still letting that man control me. Sad isn’t it? That for nearly a decade I haven’t managed to grow a fucking backbone.
I scrub my body clean and wash my hair, shoving down every single emotion and preparing myself to put on the mask. I have a job and a role to fill. I can’t be the weak little girl I was. Aiden needs me to step up and be more…to teach him what strength and courage look like. I can’t do that by being the girl that wakes up in a panic and can’t climb out of her own depression. I need to be better…if not for me…then for him.
Turning off the shower I step out and go through my routine. Leggings, an oversized hoodie, and fluffy pink socks - blow dry my hair, moisturize, and then make sure that my mask is firmly in place.
I can do this. Just like every single fucking day. I can do this.
Leaving my room, I stop quickly down the hallway at Aiden’s door and knock loudly to get his attention away from the loud ass video games, “Aid, breakfast my guy!”
“Coming!” He shouts back, causing a smile to break over my face.
When I get to the kitchen, Lucas is sitting and sipping on coffee stoically like always. He’s been with us for two years now. The one before him only lasted six months. And the one before that lasted one year. So far, Lucas has been the only one to stay this long. His partner, Dave, is here during the evening but we don’t speak too much. There’s nothing wrong with that. I actually appreciate the fact that Dave is so..invisible. He’s always just been someone who observes. He’s polite enough and heengages with Aiden or me when we initiate a conversation. But he prefers the quiet. Hence, the night shift.
“Morning,” I murmur, making my way over to the coffee pot and filling a mug.
“Good morning, Kota,” he rumbles back. He just always sounds like a sleepy bear…kind of looks like one too, not that I would ever admit that to his face.
I take a long sip of my coffee and hum as the golden goodness heats my belly. Then I grab the pancake mix from the cupboard and turn back to Lucas, “Blueberries or chocolate chips, Lu?”
He hums and takes a sip of his coffee, a small almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips, “I think I deserve chocolate after helping the little booger with his math homework.”
I chuckle and roll my eyes. Lucas loves Aiden. We may be a job but he genuinely cares for us. He makes sure to help Aiden with his homework and he even plays video games with him. And me? He treats me like a person and not a project. Which honestly is more than a lot of the guys have done when they were assigned to us. It’s not really in the job description to become our friends. But Lu has….and I think it is one of the things that has made this entire thing more bearable.
Before I can reply, Aiden comes barreling into the kitchen with a big smile on his face, all of his attention aimed at Lucas, “Lu, guess what?”
Lu smiles warmly and chuckles, “What, booger?”
“I finally beat that level we were stuck on all night!” Aiden bursts out, pure fucking joy on his face. I love it, don’t get me wrong but…mymommask is firmly in place.
I shoot a scowl at Lucas who looksalmostsheepish, “All night, huh?”
Aiden’s eyes turn comically huge as he starts stuttering through excuses, “Well..not….not allllll night. More like….a few hours. No, maybe an hour…I…”
I burst out laughing at the fear on his face and smile at him, rolling my eyes playfully, “It's fine, dude. You’re lucky it’s the weekend. But when school starts back up you’re going right back to having a bedtime.”
