Forsaken

Chapter Thirteen

" Nathalia, wake up. Wake up. Babe, wake up," I heard a deep, masculine voice call out.

" What's wrong? What's happening," I asked beginning to wake up.

" You were having a nightmare and I tried waking you up, but you wouldn't. But then you sort of stopped thrashing in your sleep... Nat what were you dreaming about," Tristan asked full of worry

" It was weird and...," then I realized I was about to tell him what my dream was about, " It was uh... nothing."

     He looked pretty hurt that I wasn't going to tell him, but I tried to reassure him by slightly changing the subject.

" Uh, Tristan, by any chance do you know anyone with black hair, uh male, tall, pretty pale sort of like you, and..yeah?

     As I was waiting for his answer his facial expression changed. As if he knew the person that matched my description, but he replied quickly with a no.

" Why? Was this person in your dream?"

" Uh yeah, just briefly though. He uh... saved my life," I said cracking. 

     I don't know why, but lately I just can't seem to lie. 

" Oh, from what," Tristan asked curiously and seemed slightly relieved.

" Not what, but who."

     Before he could reply, I got out of bed and went into the bathroom. I closed the door and locked it. I slowly slid down the door until I was sitting and my knees were in front of me. I wrapped my arms around them and just sat there. I wasn't sure if I should cry, eat or take a bath. I just needed to be alone, but what good would that do if it won't lead me any closer to who my rapist is. The only thing that would is sleeping, but knowing Tristan, he probably won't ever let me sleep again. And I'm not sure if I want to go through another horrific dream like the ones I already had. It's just too much.

     I was still sitting on the cold floor and I was not motivated to get up. If I could sit here forever I choose it over this life. Every day seems like a day that torments me. Always telling me there will be brighter days. I only see darker ones. For me, it's not about living life because I can't live. Now I survive. Every day is about surviving so I can do it again the very next day. After that night at the party my life went completely upside down. I stopped living after that. Now I'm always looking over my shoulder and I have my guard up. Maybe that is why I can't love and even though I will be forced to marry Tristan, there will probably be no love. He can make me smile, laugh, or make me feel like I do matter, but with the series of events that happened to me, all I can do is think. Think about death and how easy it will be to forget everything once I die.

     I'm not sure if I'll see the ones I love again, but I surely wish I do. I had never been the one to pray, I have been raised as a Catholic, but I lost all faith after my mother died. I'm not sure if praying right now after about four years will get me out of this situation, but it's the only option that won't exactly hurt. I felt really weird getting onto my knees and honestly I didn't know where to start. Should I pray out loud or in my mind and should I put my hands together? I shrugged off the questions forming in my mind and got into a position that I thought was right. 

" Dear God,

     Who art in heaven... uh... how are you. I know it's been about three or four years since I last prayed to you, but I was too upset and mopey to actually contact you. These things that happened, why did you let them happen? Why did you take the people I loved away from me? Was it because I loved them more? I didn't, I just... I don't know. But why God? Why did you take them? Why weren't you there when I needed you. Why did you forget about me? Why have you forsaken me? Why God? What did I do to deserve this? Why?"