Allison
Sitting at the dinning room table with cards scattered across the top, a felt tip pen in hand and a list on my left. Kristi isn't here to walk me through this so its nerve wracking.
I stare at the premade wedding announcements. The cream color cards look antique which is the theme of our wedding. On the front reads a quote from C.S Lewis; Now at last they were beginning chapter one of the great story no one on earth has ever read, which goes on forever; in which every chapter is better than the one before.
With antique style drawing for a classic C.S Lewis book, inside read a beautiful greeting for our wedding. With a small picture of Mads and I, the photos which had been sent over yesturday. Mads and I hugged eachother, I looked up at him with a wide smile, as he stared down at me with a grin. The "save the date" posted inside as our wedding was set for October 18th.
The list on my left had the adresses and names of everyone, and by the time I got the 5th person my hand was hurting.
I hear a knock come from the archway, gathering my attention. There he was, the love of my life, standing tall with a grin on his lips and a coffee in hand.
"I could help, you know," he says setting the coffee down for me.
He leans over and kisses my forehead carefully.
"But then you'd start cutting people from the guest list because of random excuses."
He chuckles. "You're absolutely right."
He kisses my forehead again. His lips are so soft but his kiss can be rough.
"So, I was thinking, you and I could go eat dinner at Q's Diner at seven?"
I nod. "That sounds like a good idea."
He begins to walk away, leaving me to the announcements yet again.
After five more cards I develope a rythym and then steady on until one name jumps off the page.
Clearly it was a mistake on my part to put them down.
Mr. And Mrs. Holmes.
My parents are probably having a field day with our wedding announcement that was put in the paper. Will probably hates the idea as well.
I smile even with their names on the list. I did what my mother couldn't; leave. I left the pain and suffering, the abuse both mental and pysichal.
I remember my mom crying, telling me that I wouldn't be able to keep Mads. Crying because I would be like her and that I was only making things more difficult. I knew deep down that I was going to have this happy ending, being with Mads. I knew that we would be able to uphold our love and go through this war, coming out the victors.
I write along the announcement, the curve of my pen in spite.
"I told you so. You're not welcome."
The words make me smile and thus here I am, placing the announcement inside the envelope, about to be sent to my parents. Not an invintation, just something to show them that they failed to ruin me.
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Q's diner looks the same but it doesn't feel the same. I can pin point the seat in which Sara gave Troy her number. I can tell you the exact way she looked at him, how hopeful and young she looked as she blushed like a lovestruck teenager.
Sara was still recovering from her attack, having moved in with her aunt on the mainland, far away from this island. She sent me a letter not too long after she moved away, regarding how lucky she was to not have to go through what I went through. She went on to say that she wanted to keep in touch but didn't ever want to come back even if she grew up here. Her parents weren't alive anymore and she said for the first time she was glad for it, because she didn't think she could face them otherwise.
There is a feeling a guilt after being, not only sexually assaulted, but after being raped. It came up no matter what people said or did. Victims remorse or whatever it was called, it courses through you unwillingly until you take it as truth. Had I been more carful maybe this wouldn't have happened... Had I looked less appealing maybe... if I hadn't had thrown myself at him...
No matter if these are true or false, we tend to look at them think of maybes. I never in my life thought about victims remorse or victims guilt but like Sara, it hit me pretty hard. Not only do I feel guilty for my own situation, I feel guilty for Sara's.
"Allison," my name rang in my ears, bringing me from my revery. "Baby, you okay?"
The soft whisper of Mads made me turn my head from the booth in which Sara and Troy exchanged numbers.
"Yea, I was just thinking," I say a little absent mindedly.
Sitting in our own booth, Mads gives me a worrisome look before returning to his own menu. I feel like we should have this menu memorized but Mads still liked to ponder his choices.
I know what I want so the menu layed there on the table whilst I reflect.
"Have you talked to Sara?" Mads asked.
I swear this man has telepathy, knowing everything about me with one look.
"She's still in Louisiana. Her aunt owns a resturaunt there," I explain.
"Yea, I met her aunt once when she came to visit. I never understood what she was saying, southern accents freak me out," he says with a chuckle.
"Its hard to understand what you're saying sometimes when you go on your rants," I say.
He laughs, the menu falls from his hands as his melodic voice roars. He slowly decends from his laugh while shaking his head.
"Not to mention the times you forget english words and I have to correct you," I giggle.
"You should have seen me when I first moved here. I was thankful my father gave me a tutor otherwise I would have decided to not talk at all."
"Whys that?"
He shrugs. "Being a Danish kid in a small town, in a school that callaborated elementary and middle school, I stuck out like a sore thumb. I was very... difficult to talk to not just because of my thick accent but also because I didn't want to."
"Did other kids make fun of you for it?"
He shrugs again. "Sometimes. I was a stubborn kid who just lost his mother and moved to a new country. I picked fights with everyone."
"Such as..."
"Older kids especially, teachers sometimes. Lord! I even threatened a substitute once."
"Mads!"
He chuckles. "He called me something, I can't remember. I think it was a racial slur, but then again being the whitest kid in school I had it coming."
"What! He actually called you a name?"
"I can't remember, it was 35 years ago."
"I always hung out with teachers. I was a teachers pet. Always tattled, always did the homework. I stayed after school as often as I could."
"But your reason is valid. No one would want to go home if they had the family you did."
A waitress walks over, our conversation comes to stop. Mads orders a hamburger and I do the same but with bacon. Of course with Mads, he also orders a large basket of fries even though the hamburger comes with them. I can't help but cave in and order a milkshake where as Mads orders a beer.
The waitress says she'll give us our fries as an appetizer because our hamburgers are going to take a while, then she leaves.
"Did any of your teachers know?" Mads asks as soon as the waitress is gone.
"A couple could tell the signs but none of them did anything."
"Bastards, they could have taken you from that hell hole," he scoffs.
"Lets talk about something else," I say.
"Anything besides your terrible father, I agree," he says as he fiddles with the salt and pepper shakers.
"Your dad," I say abruptly.
His hands stop suddenly. Slowly his eyes move up to look at me.
"What about him?" He asks grimly.
"You never talk about him. I heard from someone that you two didn't get along..."
The corners of his mouth twitches as he looks away from me. I'm hitting a nerve and it might back fire but I've been wanting to know for so long.
"Who told you that?"
"Does it matter?"
"Yes."
I look away from him, not wanting to answer. The name alone is hard to say, his face pops into my head so many times afterwards it makes me sick.
"Troy," I answer relutantly.
"Figures. He was just trying to get in your head with lies, trying to make up a story. He probably thought that if I hated my father you'd see me differently."
"How can I? I hate my father. I'd be a hypocrite to blame you."
The waitress returns with our drinks and a basket of fries. Mads mumbles a thank you. When she is out of sight again we continue.
"Your father is abusive. My father was... difficult."
"How?" I ask before taking a sip of myshake.
"We never saw eye-to-eye on things. He wanted to keep the island a private circle, only for family. I wanted to expand and allow more land to be purshased from outsiders."
I nod. "Is that why you're so angry that my father is accusing you of such. That you've been fighting for so long for the opposite."
Mads sighs and leans foreward. Like he is about to whisper to me.
"I am angry because your father is using you as a toy in a game in which he doesn't belong in. I am angry that he thinks I will cave in. He thinks I'll let you go and that is just insulting. I love you, and to think someone doesn't believe that is infuriating."
"You're angry because he doesn't believe in our love. My father only ever believes in what he makes up. I've been told fabricated stories of his childhood my entire life."
"Such as?"
I try to think. My mind carries on through memories in which I was forced to listen to random stories that were made up to make my father look good.
"My father loves spewing war stories. Times he drove a tank. Times he shot the enemy."
"Your father is a vetren?"
I shake my head. "Nope. He's never enlisted. The closest thing is when he was put in the draft. He was called upon when he was nineteen and wouldn't you believe it, he dodged the draft," I say with an eyeroll.
"Wow, what an good ol' all American boy," Mads says sarcastically before chuckling.
Our order arrives and imediately we stuff our faces with a wonderful meal. We eat in silence as words aren't needed but we continue to share glances at one another with smiles. As our plates become empty we begin a new conversation, starting with TV shows we watch and new movies coming out. We switch to an easy topic on news and some form of politics but keep it short as it is the worst topic for me.
"Malcolm says she will sign the papers but... she wants to do it in person."
I bite my lip. Seeing that woman again would surely send me into a downfall of not only rage but of agony. Something tells me that Angela has asked for it to be only her and Mads however.
"When do you leave?" I ask solemly.
He sighs. "She wants to come here. Says she won't make a fuss about it unless she is allowed to visit the island one last time."
"When is she coming?"
Mads adjusts his collar and begins to turn his beer bottle.
"Sometime this week, probably thursday or friday. She won't stay over night, she will stay for no more than an afternoon."
I relax a little. "I'm just glad she's signing them. The sooner you're divorced the sooner we can move on," I say blandly.
He nods. The awkwardness is suffocating us now. I still feel a sense of guilt sitting with him as he is still legally married. I know he doesn't love her and I know he loves me but theres still a part of me that worries. Jaelousy maybe or even heart ache. I feel like I am losing him yet nothing validates that reasoning.
The waitress comes to clear our plates but before she can she giggles.
"A man wanted to pay for your meal but I told him you two don't pay for meals since you know the owners and all. He was irritated about it. He left this note for you, Allison," She says pulling out an envelope from her apron.
I take the envelope with a shaking hand. My senses heighten as the sense of fear overcomes me. Mads grows stiff as he eyes the envelope.
The white envelope opens up easily as if not sealed at all. Carefully, I pull out the the paper that resides within it.
Eating with the dogs of this world will surely put you down like one. You're just a pet for him as he is one to the devil. You're eyes decieve you, pull them out as they will lead you down the path of satan. Is he a man who acts like a dog?
The note ended. My body began to shake as I read the words. The reference of dogs was far too much to be a coincidence.
I let the note fall onto the cleared table. My body shot up from the booth and in a second my eyes searched for the man.
Where is he? He has to be here!
I look around frantically, only seeing teens and older couples eat and drink. I tremble a little as I walk for the counter. Our waitress comes from the back room aftering having cleared the plates.
"Where did he go?" I ask her hurriedly.
She is startled a little by my angst and fear. She forces a smile, shaking her head as if nothing is wrong.
"Who are you talking about?" She asks sweetly.
"The man who gave you the letter! Where did he go!" I scream at her begging for the answer.
I feel Mads's tense body come up behind me. He engulfs me in his arms, holding me tightly and protectively.
"Calm down," he tries to reassure me that I am safe but the idea that a dog could be unleashed on me again has my vision blurry and the room spinning.
"I-I..." the waitress stutters.
"Where did he go!" I scream at her.
"Allison," Mads calls out to me as I pull away from him.
The lights are too bright, the room now begins to close in on me. I feel my stomach tense up and bile hitting my throat.
I run for the exit as fast as I can. I am hit with the cool air of spring, the small breeze helps my nausea but it doesnt allow it to dissapear.
I look around for any familiar sign. He was here, I know he was. I can still feel his eyes on me now. I walk onto the gravel if the parking lot and begin to feel the familar feeling of bile leading up my throat.
I nearly fall into the bushes, grasping onto a nearby tree as my head falls and my stomach unleashes its contents.
I throw up dinner and whatever else was in my stomach, all of it emptying onto the green foliage. My knees begin to fail me but to my surprise I stay up as two large hands grasp my arms. I begin to shake even more, my body betraying me.
I feel my eyes water not only from throwing up but from crying. My chest tightens as fear continues to course through me.
I've been in situations of fight or flight but this was the opposite, cowering and succumbing to the fear. I feel as if the world is ending and I am at the epicenter of disaster. I feel like my worst nightmare has come true and it is getting worse by the second.
I feel my body being pulled away from the foliage. My legs fall and I sit mindlessly on the gravel.
"Ill get her some water," a female voice says.
I don't see but I do hear. My hearing is heighten to unbelievable amount, like being at a concert but it is the sound of hell, ringing in your ear to bring you to your worst fear. I cry out as my hands cover my ears. I bring my legs close to my chest, crying uncontrolably. I am in a sitting fetal possition now. My heart hammers in my chest, my eyes forcibly shut as I fear too much to open them.
"Do you want me to call an ambulence?"
"No, I got her."
The voices echo and cause me to cry further. The fear of the loud sound forces me to recall the loud barking. From running and being attacked by dogs, to being in the Ben's store and hearing his dog, to being attacked again by the man with the dog.
"Hes real, hes real, I swear," I cry.
"Baby, ssshhh."
I feel my body being pulled into a much stronger one, in the arms of something familar. With my fingers pressed to my ears, my eyes closed and my body cowering, I am lifted and carried into a car.
"Hes real. I swear, hes real."
A/N:
I very much poured my soul into this chapter. It was hard to write a character having a panic attack because I suffer from them as well. I decided to write what I feel and go through when I have my panic attacks, my trigger being loud sounds. I felt as though it was a nice reminder that everyone goes through struggles but sometimes people have severe reactions and sometimes they cannot be explained. I've always had my panic attacks being very obsessive compulisve and due to loud sounds. This is the type of panic attack I go through, constantly sobbing with word repitition and closing of the ears, hair pulling and even hitting my head against walls. I thought it was therapeutic to write something in which I personally go through rather than fiction for me.
Thank you for reading.
Lots of love
- Annelie Leddy