Falling Up

5. Locked Up

"Goodnight Riley," said Jason as Riley walked down the hallway and into her room.

Fluttering around the bedroom, she prepared herself for bed before slipping under the warm, heavy, purple sheets. She reached over to her lamp, switching it off before collapsing her head into the comfort of her pillow, closing her eyes with a sigh and eventually falling asleep.

It felt like only a moment later when Riley bolted upright, drenched in sweat, her breathing heavy and labored. The haunting visions of Vincent pressed against her lingered heavily in her mind as she clutched the edge of her bedsheet trying to calm her shaking body.

It had been a while since she had a nightmare as bad as that. She still had nightmares on occasions though but they caused merely a gentle awakening and usually she could drift back off soon after.

This however felt like Vincent's hands were still roaming over her body, still tugging at her hair and she felt the chill that was left on her neck as his hot breath fanned across her ear. "Such a dirty little whore," he said loudly in her ear.

Her mind fought back as best it could from the vile images and she managed to slip out of bed, passing a quick glance to her clock, the time reading 2:13am and headed to the en-suite bathroom. As she took off her sweat drenched clothes she hopped into the warm shower, purposefully avoiding the mirror so she couldn't see the scars that littered her body.

Even though most of them were self-inflicted she still didn't need even more of a reminder as to the reason she resorted to self-harming in the first place. And the last thing she needed was to glance at her back, a constant reminder of all of the scars that weren't self-inflicted. Her back was Vincent's personal carving board. Or at least, it used to be.

She must have spent more than half an hour in the shower after washing herself clean just standing under the constant spray of the shower head. And she realised that no matter how long she spent there, her body wouldn't stop shaking. It couldn't stop shaking.

Climbing out reluctantly and drying herself off, she glanced at the bathroom sink where she saw her razor lying out carelessly. It would be so easy, she thought to herself as she stepped one step closer to the razor, reaching out her hand to brush against the pink handle.

Before she got any further she snatched her hand back into her chest, storming out of the bathroom and throwing on some pajamas that were lying on the floor. She stomped out of her room, hurrying down the hallway until she stood in front of Noah's door.

Noah was normally her first point of call when she had nightmares, which wasn't too often these days. He was always there to calm her down and he was a lot easier to talk to than Jason. But as she stood in front of his door, her hand outstretched to his door handle she had second thoughts.

Turning her head down the hallway, she glanced at Jason's door. Tonight she needed him. They were both her brothers and both of them would be there for her in a heartbeat but Jason was the one who raised her. The one who looked after her when she was sick, the one to make sure she did her homework and ate properly. He raised her and that protection was what she craved right now.

She crept towards Jason's door and knocked slightly before turning the door handle. No matter what time she visited he always seemed to be awake. He must have some type of insomnia by the sleeping pills she had seen in his bedroom side table one time, but the couple of times she asked him about it he shrugged it off.

So she wasn't surprised when she found him propped up in bed, the side lamp on with a book open in his hand. He put it down immediately when he saw her and she hopped into the empty side of the bed, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning her head on his chest.

"You're shaking," said Jason with concern as he wrapped his arms back around her. "What's wrong?"

"I had a nightmare. Can I stay here tonight?" she said, feeling kind of pathetic that she still relied on her brothers when she had nightmares.

"Of course," replied Jason. "Why don't you tell me about it?"

Riley hesitated. She hated telling anyone about them. Her nightmares weren't exactly made up scenarios. They were her memories, trying desperately to claw free as her subconscious pushed them to the depths of her mind.

"Your therapist said it would help to talk about them," continued Jason. "Only if you want to," he added.

Releasing a deep breath she shuddered and attempted to control her shaking. Talking about it usually did help her to understand and make sense of things but talking about it with Jason was hard. You could see he felt guilty every time she recollected one of her memories and she didn't want that. It wasn't his fault and she had eventually realised it wasn't hers either. And she hadn't even told him everything that happened to her so he was still finding out new information over time. The nightmares were always different which is why they threw her so off balance.

"It's okay Riley," said Jason. "I'm here for you."

"It was about Vincent," she began slowly.

"He dragged me into his bedroom and locked the door. Mom was still drugged up on the couch and Noah was out... but you were in your room next door." She paused for a moment, thinking it over. "Vincent knew it as well which I think is why he chose that room."

As Riley started the story she thought that perhaps it wasn't the best story to be telling Jason. It would only make him feel worse but he didn't say anything further and instead waited for her to continue.

She gulped before continuing. "He slammed me up against the wall that connected his room and yours..." she paused for a moment. "Actually, I'm not sure you want to hear this."

You could tell that he was desperate to hear how this panned out though. "Please. I need to know."

She was silent for a moment, wondering if she should continue. "He pulled back my hair and told me what a dirty whore I was before he started to....you know..." she trailed off.

Jason was almost shaking himself as she told the story and his hand went up to his mouth in horror as the realisation set in. "And that's when I banged my fist on the wall and told you both to shut up," he whispered.