Pushed & Pulled

Chapter 23: Broken

My life before with Damon suddenly feels like a dream I was in. I reach out into my memories to touch them; to grasp them in my hands desperately trying to hold onto them, but at the same time I can feel them slipping from my fingertips like running water swirling down a drain. 

How is this real life? How am I in this situation? I was a normal person living a normal life. Everything changed when Damon died. He was my safety, my family, my home. Now nothing will ever be the same. 

Even my short time with Cameron feels unreal, how could I ever face him again now that I am broken, shattered into a million tiny pieces that turn to dust upon touching them, never to be put back the same again.  Cameron deserves better.

I lay there still in the same curled up position, my wrist still bound tight above me, my body beaten and broken as I concede to the reality of what just happened. The thing I feared most. Now there was no coming back. Tears fall in a steady stream down my face as the deep agonizing pain constricts my chest making it hard to breath. 

As I think about what Cameron would think of me now. A soul wrenching sob pours from my body. Why didn't I fight harder? You did. A voice in my head says but I push the voice down. I didn't, I stopped fighting instead choosing to give up and let him take my body. You were protecting yourself. The small voice creeps back. 

Another sob burst past my lip and I quickly push my face further into the pillow to hide any further noise; too afraid if I made any sound William would come back. 

Now this brokenness can never be undone; and the ties that bind me will hold and haunt me forever. How could anyone love me now. I fight against the heaviness in my eyes but eventually lose that battle as well and fall into a dark and helpless slumber. 

When I wake up, I can barely move. Pain sweeps over my entire body and I'm not sure if it's physical or mental pain I'm feeling, probably both. I realize my wrist are no longer bound and a blanket is covering me. 

I grab the blanket and pull it tightly against my body as I turn to face the wall. I desperately want to shower and wash away the memories of last night but I know it will never be as easy as that, so, instead I silently cry into my pillow wishing I could wake up from this nightmare and terrified its only just begun.

I manage to find the strength to get up to use the restroom. Once in the bathroom the need to wash and rid myself of the filth I feel over my body wins out and I quickly turn the water on. I step inside and turn my back against the water hissing out through the pain. 

Looking down I see the water turning red and I know I'm still bleeding. The pain is good it's the only thing I truly feel now. The rest if my body just an empty vessel. 

 I look down at my body that's now covered in bruises and adjust the temperature as hot as I can get it. The bathroom quickly fills with steam as I grab the loofah and pour the whole bottle of soap into it and begin to scrub vigorously. 

I don't realize I'm crying until a sob escapes my mouth; my tears disappearing into the flow of the spray above me. I scrub until my body turns red and I'm struggling for air. Strangled gasps echo all around bouncing off the walls and back into my ears, but nothing is taking away the defilement I feel and I slowly sink to the shower floor wrapping my arms around my legs. Crying out as darkness fills my soul blocking out any light that was left.