I struggle, but he is so heavy, and I am small and trapped beneath him. My fear consumes me when I hear his voice next to my ear. “Struggle and Lana is next. You don’t want me to hurt little Lana, now do you?”
My mind goes to her in the room a few doors down, she got here a week after me. She was ten; I was nearly sixteen. As far as I knew, he never touched her. Lana assured me he never did when we escaped, but that night, what he said paralyzed me instantly. I remember her innocent face, her blonde ringlets that hung to the middle of her back, and her blue, doe eyes. We had become close, having both grown up in foster care. We shared the same struggles and knew how lonely a place it was.
The thought of her made me freeze, and I watched, praying I would pass out from the pain, praying his wife would come home and stop him. Neither happened, and I was forced to endure and watch the terrible things he did, silent tears running down my face. Minutes felt like hours but when he was done, he walked out, leaving me there. My sheets turned red with the blood of my innocence; my soul bled out of me. I was used goods, nothing but filth, and I felt so dirty, pathetic. The shame that came with what he did kept me silent. Shame was what stopped me from speaking out. Shame made me endure for an entire year after that, shame and fear of what he would do if I tried to stop him.
And right now, my dreams are forcing me to relive it. I struggle to force myself to wake. I subconsciously know I am dreaming and not there, but the dream is sucking me in. My heart pounds in my chest when I suddenly break out of it, sitting upright. I gasp for air, drenched in sweat; my skin feels cold, and my lungs are restricted. The TV has gone into sleep mode and switched off; the place is completely dark and silent except for the erratic sound of my breathing.
Looking around, I notice Orion still isn’t back. I do not know how long I was asleep, but it was probably minutes, as my eyes still feel like sandpaper. Getting up, I hunt for my pills until I remember I have none left. My entire body is trembling, and the dark makes me feel claustrophobic. I flick on the lights, illuminating the house. Sitting on the couch, I try to calm myself and ground myself.
I can hear movement upstairs before hearing footsteps on the stairs. Ryland must have felt my panic as he suddenly appears at the bottom of the stairs, looking alarmed and looking for danger. His eyes fall on me, and he sits on the couch furthest from me.
“You, okay?” he asks. I can see something flicker in his eyes, something I can’t decipher. I nod. “You know he can take it away?” he says, making my eyes snap to his.
“What?” I ask, confused.
“Whatever happened that haunts you, Thaddeus can make it stop, make you forget,” he says.
I want to forget…What I would do to forget, to erase that year from my memory. “How?” I ask.
“By telling him what happened, he can erase it all,” Ryland says.
I shake my head; I can’t do that. I can’t let anyone know. The thought alone disgusts me and makes bile rise in my throat.
Ryland stands up, his entire body radiates anger, and his eyes darken. His canines protrude, and I feel fear creep in. “You’re not the only one affected by it; you realize that, don’t you? You need to either deal with it or let him remove it. Evelyn, I can’t keep feeling what you feel with no fucking answers. Every emotion you feel, I feel. Your fear, sadness, shame, and guilt, your fucking exhaustion. I feel it all, and it is infuriating that I can feel everything and not know what is causing it. They can feel it too, through me. You are turning our fucking bond into a curse!” he yells at me.
I stay silent and eventually, he storms upstairs. “You think feeling it is bad? Try fucking reliving it!” I scream back at him as anger bubbles through me.
Ryland freezes. A menacing growl escapes him before he suddenly stands in front of me.
“I didn’t ask for this. You all brought me here; you brought it back. I was fine until you fucking walked into my life!” I scream at him.
I hear movement upstairs again. Thaddeus’ growl makes my eyes snap to the stairs. Ryland is breathing heavily, and I can feel the rage inside him.
Thaddeus appears behind me, making me jump. The intensity of his gaze makes me flinch away from him. His eyes are like storm clouds, his fangs protrude as he steps toward me. “We can’t help you if we don’t know what’s wrong,” he says, his voice emotionless and cold.
I suddenly wish Orion was back. Fear consumes me as the lights flicker, something I know as his anger before he erupts. No sooner than I think it, Orion walks in, and I instantly run to him; anything to get away from Thaddeus. Orion grips me tightly, worried for a second as he takes in the room. I notice he is saturated, his clothes dripping wet, making me step away from him as I feel the coldness seep into me, making me shiver.
“What’s going on?” he asks, looking at them.
Thaddeus calms slightly and pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Ask her; you can deal with her. I am going to bed to try to sleep,” he says.
I watch as he walks upstairs. Ryland follows, but he stops next to me. His eyes soften as he looks down at me and quickly pulls me to him. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, and I can feel Orion’s eyes on us.
Tingles spread all over my body, and I relax against him. I place my hand on his chest. He feels warm, and as much as I hate to admit it, he feels safe. They all do, yet touching leads to memories, and I reluctantly pull away. Ryland sighs and walks upstairs. I walk back to the couch and flick the TV on.
“You were gone a while,” I tell Orion, and he nods. He then drops a bag on the counter. He looks tired, even though I know he doesn’t sleep.
“I know you’re hiding something. Whatever it is, we won’t judge you for it, Evelyn. They only want to help, and you keep shoving us out,” he says, as he rummages through the bag. He walks over, placing a bottle of pills in my hand. “I need to shower, and you need sleep. These aren’t helping you.” Orion states, then turns his back on me and walks up the stairs, leaving me with my thoughts.
I look at the bottle, get up, and place it back on the counter. I can’t take any more, not without the risk of an overdose. My clothes are wet from Orion, so I decided to change. I walk up the stairs, rummaging through the closet until I find another shirt and slip it on.