Chapter Four

"Don't lie to yourself, Stupid Girl. You love it when I force you down and fuck you.You've missed the only cock you've ever had, haven't you? You're so fucking tight. I'm so glad this pussy is mine to do whatever I want with."

I lie face down on the bed, my cheek pressed against the pillow, staring at the barred window. Tears flow effortlessly down my face as I silently cry, warm wet drops dampening the pillow.My legs are spread, each ankle tied and latched to the bedframe. My arms are behind my back, my wrists crossed and cuffed.

In and out, he takes me. With every stroke, I die a little more inside, becoming numb. Another piece of my soul is ruined, stained, and tainted with how he treats me.

The bars on the windows blur from the tears welling in my eyes, the indefinite reminder that this is truly my jail.

He is my warden. I am his prisoner.

And my sentence is death.

I gasp awake in the bare bones of my room; the sheets drenched in sweat from my nightmare. I place a hand over my heart, the beat fast with fear.

"I'm not there anymore," I whisper to myself. "I'm not there. He's dead. You're safe." It's something I tell myself every night when I wake up. "You're okay." I take a deep breath in, then slowly let it out.

I do that repeatedly until my heart slows and the sweat stops drenching my skin. I pull my legs to my chest and wrap my arms around them, pressing my left cheek against my knees as I look out the window.

It needs to be cleaned. It's a bit murky with grime that's built up over years of neglect, but I can still see the sky. The stars are out, twinkling without knowledge that the light inside me has been extinguished.

Perhaps, the stars have it, reminding me every night how I used to be.

The moon is nearly full, shining so bright, that its glow engulfs half my room. I shut my eyes, a small, tired smile curling my lips.

I can see the night sky now. There are no bars keeping me prisoner. There is nothing keeping me locked in this house. There are no hooks on the walls. There are no chains locked on my body.

I'm free.

And this home is my independence.

"You're okay," I tell myself again, my eyes burning from the truth— from the relief of my new reality.

A vibration coming from outside has me sitting up and opening the window. It takes some effort with all the paint that's been slathered on the frame in the past, but I manage. The refreshing night air hits my face and I inhale, smelling the wetness in the air from the lake.

Crickets chirp in harmony, an orchestra just for me as they rub their wings together. Fireflies flash and dance as if the music of their surroundings is affecting them. A frog croaks in the distance every few seconds, adding an odd bass to the earth's music that is soothing my broken, damaged soul.

This is where I will heal. I already feel the warm balm of the beauty this house holds bandaging every wound sliced into my spirit.

I cross my arms on the windowsill and lie my head down, staring out at my new view.

The lake ripples as a soft gust of wind blows, the grass swaying in a reminder that it is too long. I love how it sounds as the blades brush together, a soft hush of almost silence.

The vibration sounds again, sinking into my marrow and lassoing around my heart tempting me to go outside.

Who am I to say no? Maybe a midnight swim will be exactly what I need.

I roll out of bed, snagging the blanket, and the few clean towels I have folded on the chair. Slipping on my bright green slides, I flip on the bedroom light, then the hallway, and the living room, showing just how bare my new home is.

I'm mindful of the hole in the floor. It has to be one of the first things I fix because it's only a matter of time before I forget it's there and break my leg.

Or worse, my neck.

Taking a deep breath, I stare at the light switch next to the back door, then stare outside the glass. There's a small part of me wondering, will Ty be standing there when I turn on the light?

Defeating the ghost of him is my main goal. It is what I need so he doesn't keep haunting me. He still traumatizes me every day, my mind replaying all his wicked deeds on a loop.

I can't let the dead win. Not when there is so much of me that wants to live.

As fast as I can, I flip the light on. The dim yellow glow flickers, prevailing against the eerie cloak of the night, but nothing is as terrifying as Ty, who is not standing in the middle of my deck.

Opening the door, a burst of energy rushes through me and I run, jumping down the steps.

Once I hit the ground, I can't be contained. The vibrations coming from the lake add fuel to my desire to feel freedom. My long black hair falls from its loose, messy bun, swaying behind my back. The closer I get, the louder the vibrations are.

There's an old wooden bench that needs replacing on the small shore and I set my belongings there, sliding off my shoes. The dirt rubs between my toes and small rocks poke at the underbelly of my feet.

The frequency of the reverberations has my heart filling with hope. There's also desire, a need, something I don't understand. I have to get into the water. Whatever this is, it's beckoning me.

I slip off my shirt, and then my pajama bottoms, placing them neatly on the bench.

Hearing a rustle to my left, on instinct I cover my breasts, turning to see who it is.

"Hello?" My voice cracks with the niggling fear in the back of my head that causes goosebumps to arise over my body.

Or maybe that's just the breeze.

I scan the trees, the shadows the branches cast, and then the glass surface of the water.

Something is out here.

And it's watching me.

"It's all in your head, Mickey. No one is here. It's just you," I say to myself, repeating the phrases my therapist told me.

He is gone. It's just you. You are in control.

"I'm in control," I whisper to no one but myself.

Stronger and louder vibrations rippling the water have me taking my first step. The shock of the cool water makes me gasp as I step in. The moment I feel the silky touch of the lake reach my ankles, the storm inside me calms.

I'm safe.

I walk further, my feet slipping through the heavy wet sand at the bottom until it's too deep. Holding my breath, I duck my head under the surface, soaking myself in the vibrations that brought me here.

Popping up to take a breath, I flip onto my back and float, spreading my arms out while I stare up at the sky. This might be my new favorite pastime. I close my eyes and allow myself to relax. The water envelopes me in a hug as if someone is wrapping their arms around me, keeping me safe from drowning myself.

I could.

I could dip under the surface and sink to the bottom, struggling to hold my last breath until I have no choice but to inhale lake water. I could let it fill my lungs. I could let the last signs of me be bubbles containing my very last breath. They would reach the surface and pop, allowing the wind to carry the air away.

I could die right here and find peace. The option brings me relief. It's an option I shouldn't think about, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about death more than once a day.

But I won't succumb to the negative when I have a fresh start in life. I have a lot of hurdles to overcome, and I want to jump every single one of them in hopes I make it to the finish line of normalcy.

Those vibrations tickle my back as if I'm right against the cause of them. Water slips across my breasts, my nipples beading from the cool temperature, but it's my clit that begins to pulse with desire that makes panic grip me tightly.

I don't want to feel desire. I never want to have sex with anyone again.

Yet the embrace of peace or whatever is holding me has me slipping my hand down my body, my fingers grazing over the sensitive bud.

My eyes close, allowing my trust in being alone to dare to bring me pleasure.

Somehow, I'm still floating as I circle my clit.

I gasp in a wave of arousal I haven't felt in so long, it's as if it is the first time. The vibrations become stronger, and I swear I smell a sweet musk fill the air, drenching me from head to toe as if it is bathing me.

"Oh my God," I whine, the fear of orgasming mixed with need clash together.

I fight with my nightmares at the forefront of my mind.

"You are never allowed to touch yourself. You will not come again unless you behave. I control you now. I decide when you feel pleasure and release."

I never had pleasure with Ty. I never had release. He only cared about himself.

Grinding my teeth together, I push his voice to the back of my head, exiling his voice to the depths of all I hate.

Circling my clit faster, my lips part, and my eyes snap open to see the stars twinkling again.

I don't feel like myself. It's as if I'm possessed and someone else is making me do this.

"Ah, fuck. Oh, fuck," I whine, tilting my chin down to see myself.

There's no one else here.

It's just me.

It's me who is increasing the pace in fast, small circles.

The vibrations sink into my chest and add sensations to my clit as if I have a toy pressed against me.

"Come for me, mate. Let me see how beautiful you look when I'm wrapped around you," a voice whispers softly into my ear.

I'm not sure if it's a whisper, it blends with the sound of the water, the wind, and the reverberations that are speaking to me already. The voice is soft, deep, and eager. I want to listen to it; I want to fall over the edge.

I want to be able to trust myself again.

"You'll have so much more from me soon, My Timid Little Bloom. More than you'll ever know."

My shout echoes through the empty space of the lake. The stars above aren't the only ones I see, and desire, real unhinged arousal rolls through me like a tidal wave.

"Such a good girl trusting your instincts. You'll do best to remember them," the unknown voice growls, an invisible hand stroking the soft skin between my breasts. "And you'll tell me who did this to you. You'll tell me who harmed my mate."

I close my eyes, relishing in the fever dream my fucked-up mind created to bring me peace.

"Every single scar on you, I'll put on him. I'll hunt him. I'll kill him for you. You are mine. You'll tell me. Promise me," he demands, but the tone doesn't scare me.

It fulfills me.

"I promise," I reply in a post-orgasmic rasp, my eyes hooding with relaxation.

"You deserve to exist at the highest volume. I will make that happen."

The passing conversation doesn't feel real. It probably isn't. It's another scenario I'm making up so I'm comfortable. The invisible hold on my body disappears, reminding myself I am alone. There's no one else.

It's just me and my fucked-up mind. If this is me completely losing it, then I don't care. Peace is hard enough to come by and if this is how I need to gain it, then I will.

I flip over onto my stomach, keeping my head above the water as I take my time swimming to shore with long breaststrokes. I cut through the water, a haze in my mind that leaves me in a permanent state of wonder.

The feeling of someone watching me is still there. I ignore it, knowing it's paranoia. Alarm bells aren't ringing in my head, so that has to mean something. If this is my new life, I could really get used to it.

I deserve peace instead of losing pieces of what makes me, me.

My feet hit the ground when I'm shallow enough and I walk to the shore, my long hair sticking down my back. I squeeze the water out of it and turn around to face the lake, curious about what magic wonders it holds for me to feel so new.

I grab the towel from the bench and wrap it around my torso, tucking in the edges just above my right breast.

Magic might not exist, but something close to it does here.

I head toward my house, open the door, and pause.

I glance down, brows furrowing when I notice I'm in a towel. I'm naked. I'm wet from head to toe. I had to have gone swimming.

"Damn it," I curse, hanging my head as a headache begins to form.

I must have been sleepwalking again which hasn't happened in a few months. I turn my head to my shoulder, darting my eyes over the questionable peace, and wonder what happened while I was out there.

No memory of the last thirty minutes exists.