Rock n' Rule

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Rough hands entangled around my throat, grasping so tight I couldn't breathe. My vision darkened, turning hazy. The sound of water streamed above, showering over me in sprinkles of boiling hot water. My flesh burned as my lungs were filling with water. The warmth of a strangers breath trembled against my skin as his familiar hands roamed where they shouldn't.

My voice was broken, unable to scream or cry out for help. My body was weak, vulnerable as it was taken over by a force. A soaring pain sparked through what was my left hand, screaming in agony. Him breaking my prosthetic in tiny pieces, shattering in front of my face as the little metal pieces fell to the tiled floor.

My body shot up with a jolt, sweat pooling down my forehead and back as my shaky breathing was slowed down trying to regulate my airway. My eyes lowered and fixated to the missing limb of my left arm, seeing what used to be hand. Now it was scarred tissue, stitched and healed from the shark attack from Wawanakwa island.

I used to be strong. I was invincible. There was pride in my strength and how I struggled to the top. A part of me left that day. A part of me died two weeks ago. To wonder if I'll ever be able to truly live again... when does the trauma ever end? In my household, it never will. Not with our lifestyles. However, this was Chris' doing.

If only I didn't accept that stupid bet. Maybe none of this would've happened. Being here changed so much of my life in so many ways. I would've had my hand. My mind would still be intact. These nightmares wouldn't be happening.

Not able to think about the heaviness any longer, my body pushes itself out of bed to throw on my clothes and shoes. My brain couldn't process any more. It couldn't handle it.

There was a lot to get off my mind. To do that, a run was the only way I could get myself to not think. Not think about that, or anything at all.

However my run wasn't enough. Images and voices infiltrated my head making me believe I was going crazy. The feeling of his hands and kisses were still there. No matter how hard I scrubbed at my skin in the showers, the feeling remained. As if he was still there.

It was difficult to punch out my feelings with one good arm. My knuckles were bruised and bleeding from sparring at the trees. It was the only real thing here besides the buildings we were allowed in.

Out of breath and too bloody to continue, I left to the trailers to wash off my hand. Now that Justin was gone, my guard was able to let down again. However, my heart pounded just the same.

I didn't like going inside the washrooms by myself. This used to never be a problem. But ever since then, my brain couldn't let me.

Walking inside the quiet space, my heart was heard pounding in my brain feeling it pump harder than it needed to. My chest tightened as my eyes glanced at the shower I always went to, but never entered again.

I can still see Heather cleaning up the blood in the back of my mind. Even though it washed away, it never rinsed out my mind.

I sucked in a breath with an airy hiss as my knuckles met the cold water rushing against my hand. Watching it rinse away, I couldn't help but wonder as my thoughts carried on into a sequence of the past. Wondering if Heather never got there in time. Wondering if I could've stopped it. Wondering if I wasn't so weak, and could've done something. But I didn't.

Before I knew it, tears flooded down my cheeks. The blood on my knuckles were gone, my hand now clean. If only the rest of me was. Shaking away my thoughts, I dried my eyes with the back of my hands, trying so hard not to think about it. Why is today so hard?

After trying not to think about it, and assuming I was doing so well after it happened, why is it affecting me so bad now? I just want this pain to be gone. Pushing it away isn't solving my problems.

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