Two

18. Constraint

       I was in shock at my ability to fall asleep after a night like that. How did I even manage to? Back when I was younger, a short, pointless noise in the nearby bathroom was enough to keep me going for a few hours at night. But then, that sadist threatened my life for a password and I still got enough time for a mental rest. It was probably the pills, though, right?

       Even so, "mental rest" is nothing further from a comical metaphor for how wrecked i was when i woke up late. Someone drew the closed curtains behind me and I was basking in the light of the sun that covered the whole room. It was probably dad, who sometimes did that because he hated my teeny habit of staying in the dark. If only any adult knew how profoundly annoying light can be sometimes.

       I pulled myself up. The TV was closed and the house felt motionless. I couldn't hear a single step. It was late. Mom and dad already left for work and who knows what the other two were up to. I wasn't very religious, but if there was a God, I had to pray for them to still be sleeping. I hated dealing with whatever the situation was. This psychopath and his bullshit. The.. "mental care facility", was it? Sounds like a really edgy place to end up in.

       But there was always one aspect I loved the most and hated the most about morning. I couldn't process anything well at all. It took the brain some time to activate. Some time to actually comprehend what happened previously. Everything I could think of, for the first time in my life, was the fastest way to get to high-school.

       As I got closer to my room so I could pack up, I could hear the quiet sound of my shower working. My shower. Mine. The one that I use. Exclusively. I opened the door to my room, and, not unexpectedly, only Rachel was sleeping there. So he was obviously using the shower. I had to get everything quickly. Fortunately, my phone was on a table inside. I didn't overthink it or ask any questions. I was dizzy, exhausted and I had to get away from this place for a while. I didn't wake her up and got out before he was done.

       As soon as I shut the door, I felt a huge wave of relief over myself. With this, I had to face my irrational mind and ask : "But why, it's not like this is done. He can always just crash at school, right? Or kill my sister while I'm not home? Or kill us all while WE are ALL at home?". Before going further, I had to stop and be honest with myself. A moment of clarity.

       I'm genuinely afraid of him. A new concept had appeared before me : I was afraid of him killing me. The feeling took some time to cook, but it was there. It was almost something primal. The pray running away from the attacker. Managing to put some distance between them in the end. That relief it felt. Irrational, short-lived, no other questions asked. Just a feeling of relief. That was going on.

       As I was walking to school, I realized I'm just as fond of life as everyone is. In that weird, twisted, pointless, primitive way. Not that I enjoyed anything about it or the satisfaction measured in any way to the pain, or that there was any reward, physical or mental, enough to compensate. Just a desire to live. Just that.

       The world's scenery was playing before me. The same path I'd been walking for years on row, almost daily, to the same hell that's a part of what made life nothing but a cruel joke. The questions were slowly starting to pile up as my brain's functions were restoring.

       What was up with him and Rachel? What is, or was, his relationship with her? Why does he want me gone? I kept asking questions, never making a move. Even in a situation like that, I kept being stuck inside of my head. Questions piled up, answers were absent and any incentive to lift a finger was out of the equation. Comparing that to him, he felt the complete opposite of all those. I was rolling along with everything, falling in his palm at every occasion. And who knew what he did with my phone, too? 

       The sun shined brightly on me and the sky was crystal clear as I was entering the school gates for one other friday.