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My mind was full of thoughts and images. They raced around my head making me wonder what horrible thing was coming next. Whose face would emerge from behind the door, whose eyes would engulf my body if I took one step out of that room.

Nothing had been what it was supposed to be. And it took seeing it, living it, and feeling it, to know it was real.

Ivy, you're stronger than this.

You can be saved, you can out live this nightmare.

Swinging my legs off the bed, I danced the tip of my toes over the floor. It felt different, not nearly as cold as it had been every time before now. The wood was warm, inviting me to enjoy the flurry of movement.

Holding the edge of the mattress, I pressed up, my head automatically snapping to the door. Waiting.

One breath, one blink; nothing.

The door was still sealed, the quiet house making soft noises as the wind shuffled around its exterior.

Stepping to the window, I pulled back the curtains and looked out at the driveway. It was empty. The impressions of tires were visible in the gravel, but the vehicle was gone.

Letting my feet find themselves again, I walked to the door. Resting my hand against the barrier, I pushed my ear into the wood.

I'm alone. I have to believe I'm alone.

Holding the knob, I turned it as slowly as I could. My chest was on fire, nerves spiraling around my body and making me feel weak. I was scared, unsure, tempted to just crawl back to my safety and pretend the lock never came off.

It was sad how much I wanted to believe that Dante was going to do what he said; but how do you believe when your life has been solidified in lies.

I was trained to think that nothing was ever as it seems, that evil overpowered good, and what I wanted didn't matter.

Gripping my wrist, I felt the old scars that were hidden against my skin. The rope that damaged my body had done more than just keep me stagnant.

It was a reminder.

A reminder of what my life would be, it was a reminder of who owned my body.

And a reminder that I was never in control.

Poking my head out into the hall, I felt a draft bellow up and braid its fingers through my hair. It was a sensation that brought me comfort, to feel the uplift of something that flowed so freely but had no voice.

I was a lot like the air.

And it was sad.

Air was all around us. But it lacked all the same things I did.

It didn't get to choose where it went, it was told where to go. It was invisible, unappreciated, and taken for granted.

If mother nature desired to beat the air, she would. She could force the air to spill its blood on others, and take away its power to help.

Remo had stolen who I was, and turned me into a voiceless apparition of myself. His hand told me my options, his hand told me my punishments. He had made himself my mother nature.

There was nothing I could do. There was no place for me to go.

I had no choice.

Until now.

The surge of finally feeling like my body was no longer tied to the one man who bought it was euphoric.

With Dante, I could speak, I could eat, I could live again.