Temper (Taboo Book 1)

28- Score

My skull throbbed as her brisk pace took her into the hall. Stars burst in my eyes when I tried to sit up.

When she appeared in my vision her expression was devoid of emotion. I pretended to be dead as I laid crumbled on the hardwood floor. There was no other way to feel safe. I listened to the soft patter of rain and her agitated panting.

She left the room again but hesitated at the door. I waited after she disappeared, uncertain if she would return. The door to the room was open.

I tried to pull myself up but an electrifying pain shot through my wrist. It was already swollen. A strange, blue tint wound around it.

I cradled my hand as I used the other to lift myself with the bedpost. I felt the cool floor and stared down at my bare toes. The closet lay open and I heard her first ever threat echoing in my mind. 'Abide by these simple rules and I will tolerate your distasteful footwear.' I obeyed nothing.

I didn't know where she went, when she'd be back, or what she was planning. I stared at the open bedroom door as possibilities assaulted my brain. Run was the one thought that made sense.

There was one pair of old sneakers left in the closet. I grabbed them with my good hand and ignored my aches as I rushed barefoot and silent from the room. 'Self-preservation,' Hugh once called. I was finally listening, alone, terrified, and broken. I shot down the stairs towards the huge front door.

There was no plan. I needed to find a phone to call Stan but couldn't chance to stop in the mansion. My head pounded as fear pumped through me.

A voice shouted me as I sprinted into the rain, splashing through puddles until mud-soaked my legs. The rough driveway tore at my bare soles but I couldn't stop. My eyes and mind focused on the street- freedom.

I shot through the closing gate. I made it. My body doubled over as my feet slipped on the wet pavement. I shot off again, not knowing how far I would find another house in either direction. I slammed my foot into a shoe without stopping, afraid they were already chasing me.

The gasp stuck in my chest as my blood stilled. My leg seized in shock. I splashed onto the black street. The pain was worse than the broken bones, the heat of the belt, or the crack of the buckle.

The other shoe tumbled from my fingers and rolled into the street, scattering shimmering shards. My shoe filled with blood. The pain spread from my foot, through my hips, into my chest, and conquered everything. I stared at the glittering crystal, not understanding how I could have made such a terrible mistake.

My eyes caught the largest shard. I recognized the ribboned pattern that once adorned a small vase holding a single white rose a year before.

My mind emptied, focusing on the pain- my punishment for falling in love.

***

I laid in the street as my body emptied. Rough hands lifted me as strong, masculine voices called out around me. They carried me through the house, indifferent to my blood and pain.

Elizabeth's voice rose above the others, vicious and victorious. Her plans never seemed to fail. I was foolish to fall straight into another trap by holding onto worthless hope. She directed them to lay me on Ruth's bed. It was the end of our strange battles. I would be lost to that room and receive no help for my wounds.

The door clicked closed as they left bleeding. I counted the minutes and hours. I never left my body. The pain never released me.

I struggled, inch by inch, minute by minute, to rise. I grasped at my ankle as my fingers began shredding the drenched, bloody laces of the sneaker. I hissed as the once gray shoe slipped from my foot. My head swam as I stared at the oozing blood. Splinters of crystal protruded in varying sizes and shapes.

Adrenaline shook me as I grasped the smallest pieces and began pulling. Flesh and muscles tore further. I could feel the grit of pebbles and mud in the cuts. Tears and panic blurred my vision as I pulled out another piece.

I fell back and gave up often. It was too hard. It wasn't worth the effort. I wasn't worth the effort.

I managed to summon strength, or stubbornness, at intervals. The largest piece didn't want to move. My foot had slammed down perfectly against it. I fought through the nauseating pain. My broken wrist was useless and my good hand not strong enough.

I twisted the glass gently, trying to release it. My blood screamed with the pain as I blocked out the feeling of my own body as the crystal scraped against my bone. I pushed away from the shadows at the edge of my vision. I fought against my instincts to pass out and ignored the reality.

It uncleaved and I fell back, unable to control the shaking of my body. My mind fogged as colors swirled. I allowed myself time to lay in self-pity.

I managed to hop and wobble on one foot to the wall and bathroom. Rage shoved against the fear as time passed and I proved my own strength to myself. I sat on the edge of the tub but didn't stop the plug. He wouldn't come back to save me.

I sat in the bottom of the tub fully dressed. My swollen foot and poured crimson beneath the faucet. I leaned back to escape the pain and sunk into the exhaustion.

***

The swelling in my foot grew through the passing days until the pain became inconceivable. I tore apart the silk and satin of my clothes to make tight wraps for it and my wrist. The lump on my head healed but the discomfort returned as the heat crept from the wounds into my blood.

I tried to wash away every bit of dirt and debris but could still feel tiny pieces of glass pressing against the flesh, hidden in my body. I had been unable to remove it all.

It was agony to walk and unbearable to exist. The fever that climbed through the week began to touch my mind to relieve me of sanity. For days I slipped through the house, trembling, sweating, and freezing.

I heard voices that didn't belong to my world. Too often I found myself staring into what I assumed was his room. I swayed in the dark hall and stared at the made bed and glassless picture. There was no sense of him.

I turned away and found his silhouette wavering in the hallway, watching me in the dark as I stared into the red walls. The suitcase fell from his hands as he reached.

His hands lifted me but I didn't fight the vision. I saw him standing above me, a mattress beneath me. I heard his voice, so far away. I knew he couldn't be real. He had never been.

***

I blinked against the sun and rolled, sobbing into my pillow. I despised my own mind for the painful dream of his touch and kind words. His lips brushed against my damp forehead as his fingers danced along my wounds to inspect.

The day faded too quickly and night carried creatures into my room. He was there to hold me down. His hand pressed to my mouth as I screamed against the tearing of my flesh. The tiny being at my feet, cutting into me, whispered in the dark with a frantic voice. I could see nothing but his eyes as they feigned affection. His tears dripped onto my cheeks and felt too real.

I couldn't move to escape more days of the same, his soul coming to torture mine while bringing another. Venom flavored lumps were shoved down my throat when I refused to swallow them. His pleading voice threw my mind into a frenzy as every day and night I fought against my own imagination.

The illusions became softer and fewer. He'd slip into the room to lay next to me. He rarely spoke as he stared at me through the night. At times he would hold me as his own tears seeped. The love was a fragment of my own mind but I never pushed it away.

The illusion of Hannah would return separately to help me consume more chalky medicine and large pills. I learned not to fight them or she would return with the apparition of Hugh. It would use the softest, most loving voice while pressing the pills into my mouth, ignoring the pain as I bit his hand until he bled and I swallowed.