APODEMIA ➣ ||P. PARKER||

••chapter eight••

I woke up, trembling in the darkroom that I no longer recognized as my own, a choking sensation in my throat and my chest heaved from a lack of air. My heart raced as cold sweat dripped from my forehead. 

I had a dream just seconds ago, a very weird dream, one where I got stabbed with injection needles over and over again. It all felt so real. The stinging pain, the screams for help, the smell of fresh blood. 

My head, blinded with nausea, everything either felt numb or painful. 

I buried my face into my pillow, quietly sobbing into it because I didn't want mom to overhear, but she was probably still working her shift in the hospital. Memories from the HYDRA facility made me cower, I buried myself deeper and deeper into my bed, tugging on the covers so it engulfed me.  

I was afraid that something would grab me in the night. 

I reached under my pillow and grasped tightly onto the small kitchen knife I had hidden under there. A small bit of comfort spread across my chest, and I began to calm down. 

I can protect myself, I have a knife to protect myself.

I was scared of falling asleep and reliving the same dream; therefore, I kept my eyes wide open the whole night. My ears listened as the wind blew against leaves, the clock ticking down every second and the soft creeks the house makes at night.

It took hours but it felt like an eternity for the sunrise, bring forth the morning light which shown through my sheer blue curtains. Sitting up in my bed, I rubbed my eyes, knowing it was another day that I had survived.

It was a lazy Sunday and mom wanted to take me shopping after lunch, I agreed but was still dragged along. The main reason is that this was mom's only day off this entire month, and she wanted to spend it with me because it was my birthday. 

My birthday might be the only thing that wasn't changed. April the twenty-fifth, two thousand and one.

Dad was on his business trip to New York, he apologized before leaving that he had to miss out on my birthday, but promised to bring me back a gift.

Mom asked if I wanted a birthday party, but like the last three years of living in this family, I said no. Who would I even invite to my birthday? I don't have any friends, the only ones are fake and I wouldn't want to celebrate my birthday with them. I only needed mom and dad.

I blew on the grape flavored bubblegum, making a huge bubble before it popped. "Mom, did you see the bubble?"

Mom turned around to look and she realized she missed it. "No."

"Well, you missed it,"

"How do you like this one?" Mom asked me, holding up a navy blue dress with long sleeves, the white collar looked quite nice, and the color, too.

"It's good," I gave my opinion with a subtle smile on my face, the dress was up to my taste but I wouldn't wear it unless I had to.

"Okay then..." she handed me the dress, as if I didn't have enough already in my arms, and went to another rack of dresses, and picked out another dress. "How do you like this one?"

She held up a light pink dress with black stripes, and adjusted her glasses with her dainty hand.

"Mmm, pink isn't my color," I responded, "But it looks good."

Later, we went to the checkout line and as mom was paying for the clothes I turned around to look around, trying to occupy myself. My hands were in my pockets, feeling around the small pocket knife that I use to protect myself in cases of emergencies, not that I ever used it.