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Going home at the end of term should fill me with warmth and happiness, especially as Christmas is fast approaching but when those ornate wooden gates come into view, it feels like I’m about to descend into the depths of hell.

I’m sure it would be metaphorical to some, but to me it’s a pure simple truth. A cold deadly truth, one I haven’t been able to truly face until now. Even now I’m not sure I can. What I learned this summer about what had been happening for years right under my nose… fuck!

How am I even supposed to process that? It’s not like a tapestry where I can unpick the threads, apply reason and understand it. This thing haunts the grounds and lingers like a malignant presence suffocating me with every breath. It feeds off my thoughts, slowly poisoning my mind and possessing my dreams until they become nightmares. My memories are tainted, sickness claws at my sanity and bile works its way up my throat as I look back at every moment within these grounds. At the walls of this asylum with different eyes. Eyes that are wide open as the facade is ripped away and the truth laid bare.

Where happiness once grew like the first hints of spring after a long hard winter, I now see pain and suffering. Torture and death. Fear lingers in the air so thick I can taste it on my tongue—a poison pure and simple—it’s putrid, and chills me right through, down to the marrow in my bones.

Nothing I thought I knew was true; I was made to look through a mirror at a world my father controlled. One he formed with his words and deeds. One I was conditioned to see as normal and made to accept without question.

Now the blinkers are off, now I look at my childhood home without rose-tinted glasses, disgust filters through every cell of my being. I hate myself for the naivety of my youth. Hidden behind the opulence, this memorial to my family’s heritage and reign lies something so disturbing the Dixon name deserves to be synonymous with the likes of Max Clifford, Syden Cooke, and Chris Denning. Not something to be revered and treated like a Midas touch. Something far darker, more disturbing and sickening stalks the earth.

What I don’t understand and can’t fully comprehend is how much my father knew about what happened to Kayden within this town. Was he the perpetrator or was he somehow coerced into allowing it to take place under his nose? My heart begs me to believe he is just a weak man who did it to save himself for some reason but after what I witnessed in the kitchen that morning…

“I should have known you’d try to trade me in for a younger model. You’re a pathetic excuse for a piece of shit, a worthless waste I should have gotten rid of years ago when you failed to meet my requirements.”

My father’s words echo through my mind as the wooden gates slowly slide back to allow us entry to my ‘home.’ I never allowed myself the opportunity to process them. To look into their meaning beyond his anger at catching us in a compromising position but now in a new light they make me want to be sick. ‘Failed to meet my requirements’ can only mean one thing. One my mind immediately wants to dispute, I know my father is ruthless, and emotionally inept but a paedophile? Surely I would have seen the signs? That’s not something that blindsides you on some idle Tuesday right?

The signs were there but you refused to accept them. You’re weak, you chose to hide when every opportunity to see the truth presented itself. God, I hate myself for being so ignorant. So fucking blind. Fucking pathetic.

I failed him then and I’m failing him now. I always fucking fail.

Making our way down the long driveway, each second passes like a death knell and lead settles in my gut weighing me down. I look out the windscreen at the low midafternoon sun as it hangs heavily in the sky, its golden glow casting majestic shadows across the manicured lawns from the ancient oaks and cedars that litter the grounds. Creating an ambience of tranquillity that used to call to my soul and I’d embrace it with open arms. Now I squeeze my eyes shut, refusing to see its beauty because all it does is cause pain.

“Where am I parking the van?” Gale asks as we hit the gravel to the side of the house looking over at me patiently.

“Um, head to the guest house we stayed in last time. I can’t face going into the main house right now.”

“Sure thing,” he says as he steers us towards the converted stable block entering the courtyard through the archway. “You good?”

“No. Not sure I have been in a long time.”

“I know, but I’m here,” he says, gently squeezing my thigh. I flinch at the contact, his touch too intimate. Too personal, too close. No one else will ever touch me there, the mere thought fills me with disgust. No one other than my angel. Where are you?

“Yup,” I clench my teeth, locking my jaw as tension radiates through me, searing my nerves with ice.

“We staying in the same one?” He asks softly, eyes tracing the architecture of the building in front of us.

“Ah, no. I thought we could stay in the smaller one that runs along the front.” I flick my gaze to Gale, looking up at him briefly concern marring his features tightening the corners of his eyes. He sucks in a sharp breath as if he’s about to say something but Sarah raps on my window diverting my attention, cutting off his unspoken words.

I step out of the van and paste a rigid smile on my face, it’s probably more of a grimace but it’s the best I can do. She beams up at me with a blinding white smile, her blonde hair swept back neatly in a bun, not a hair out of place. “Mr Dixon, it’s lovely to have you home.” I barely manage a grunt of affirmation. “Uh, anyway,” she says, moving quickly on. “We’ve recently converted the last section of the stables into a two bed unit, so I’ve set you up there as I was told you wouldn’t be staying in the house…” The beguiling look on her face begs for answers I can’t and won’t give her.

Her sprightly voice drones on but I tune her out as my mind wanders back to the last time I was here in this very position. Stood here in this very courtyard talking to Sarah with K’s jealous gaze searing through each layer I wore till it branded my skin. A chill rolls through me as the autumn wind picks up as if it is fuelled by my despair. “...I’ve spoken to Mr Graham and he’ll return the van once you’ve both unloaded everything you’ve brought home. Just drop the keys in the main kitchen and he’ll finalise the paperwork and anything else you need.”

“Thanks,” I mutter while holding my hand out for the keys. She drops them in my palm, spins on her heels and marches off towards the main house. I push myself to step forwards but my legs are locked up tight, the muscles burning from the effort, while the need to get back in the van and get the fuck out of here runs high. My heart pounds against my ribcage in a staccato rhythm, my pulse thunders in my ears and I feel like I’m running up a mountain of sand.

Gale’s image wavers in front of me, my eyes burn as they fill with water. I blink profusely to clear them but no matter how fast I blink, they just keep filling up. I suck in air through my teeth trying to calm my racing heart but my lungs feel starved of oxygen. No matter how much air I draw in I still feel like I’m suffocating, my veins throb in time with my heartbeat.

Black smoke coils at the edges of my vision. My hands claw at my throat—blunt nails scraping at my skin—as it slowly closes up like a noose tightening around my throat. I can vaguely make out Gale’s mouth moving and frantic hand gestures like he’s shouting at me. Everything is distorted as if I’m underwater, indistinct and unclear. I shake my head trying to clear the excess fluid from my ears but it doesn’t abate, the movement only makes it pull me under faster.

A ringing starts like a low level buzz vibrating through my bones—it builds and builds, rivalling the whooshing of blood in my ears until it’s all I can hear. The decibels rising, it feels like my brain is being crushed as the pressure in my skull squeezes it slowly driving the blood out, starving it of the vital oxygen it needs to function.

My legs shake uncontrollably but my knees are locked up tight. I wobble from side to side violently like I’m being thrown around in a roller coaster. “I-I-I.” Words lodged in my throat as I continue to savagely tear my skin trying to open it up enough to get air into me as I asphyxiate.

The vice around my lungs constricts with every breath, with every thundering thump of my heart. My palms are slick with sweat. Perspiration beads on my brow and trickles down my neck like melting ice. My body flushes hot one second making my blood boil in my veins only for a wave of frozen water to crash over me and leave me shivering so hard my teeth sink into the flesh of my tongue.

‘Shhhh little devil, come back to me. I know you can do it. Reach deep inside yourself and find that quiet calm that I love about you. You used to hold me when I felt like I was splintering at the seams and my body could no longer hold me together.

You reached inside me and calmed the raging storm that was going to make me implode. Dig deep. Close your eyes and look inside yourself. Find me. Find us.’

His voice weaves through the mania gripping my mind like the most seductive dark melody soothing the jagged edges of my soul. He’s not real but he is. He’s not here but he’s always with me. I’m not alone but always isolated… is this how he felt? Invisible in a crowd, invisible to himself. I don’t even recognise who I’ve become, I don’t see me anymore. I’m nothing but an obliterated no man’s land that’s still clinging to life.

“That’s it Rhys, take a deep breath with me.” A foreign weight settles in the middle of my chest and my mind rebels—no don’t touch me. No one can touch me but him, he marked me as his. Only his as long as I draw breath. “You’ve got this, Rhys. That’s it, great job. Now breathe one… two… three… and release.”

My eyes flutter open, blinking to clear the tears they’re drowning in. The world seemingly comes into focus still hazy and indistinguishable but it’s enough for me to realise we’re not outside anymore. The shock jolts me back into myself with the force of a wrecking ball and my body slowly filters back through my mind.

I’m sitting down.

On a chair.

In a kitchen.

How?

With each new revelation my mind processes and comprehends I feel his presence slipping away from me. I throw my arm forwards, fingers outstretched as if I could catch his receding shadow and hold it hostage long enough to bring him back to me. I’d take his mirage, his shadow and sew it to my feet until I’m reunited with him for real but even then I fear I wouldn’t believe my eyes.

My hand slips through the air dropping down onto my thigh. My palms rub and worry at the denim of my jeans and I focus on the feel of the thick material under my finger tips. The low tones of Gale’s voice weave through my mind like a cool breeze clearing the fog and dissipating the lingering anxiety enough so I can unclench my jaw.

“When the pressure builds too much and you feel like you’re spiralling, Rhys, I want you to focus on three things to help ground yourself. Three things you can see. Three things you can feel and three things you can hear. Each time you identify one, I want you to take a deep breath then slowly let it out, once that thing has solidified in your mind. This will help you ground yourself in the real world and calm your racing mind whilst allowing the tension to bleed from your body.” My therapist’s voice fills the lull as I feel Gale’s presence retreat and cold air brushes against my face.

Squeezing my eyes shut I rub them with my knuckles until stars burst in the darkness, I wipe away the moisture that clings to them before I open my eyes again. Taking a deep, shuddering breath I peel my eyes open and mutter, “I can see my feet, the flagstone floor and my trainers.” I breathe out and the tension coiling around my lungs and head eases a bit.

Taking another breath I flex my fingers. “I can feel my jeans.” I release a breath. Dropping my hand to the seat of the chair I focus on the texture of the wood grain. “I can feel the wooden chair.” Inhale, exhale and another notch loosens in my spine. “I can feel my teeth sinking into my lip.” I bite down hard feeling like I’m cracking myself open every exhale shattering another piece of the shell I’m trapped in.

Rolling my head back, I stare up at the fresh white ceiling eyes tracing the wooden beams that run across it from one side of the room to the other. My eyes shutter closed and I focus on the sounds that drown out the residual ringing in my ears. “I hear the dripping tap.” Drip, drip, drip. “I can hear the crunch of gravel under shoes.” I breathe out again as a drugging wave of weariness rolls through me sinking into my muscles making them ache. “I can hear the humming of the fridge,” I mutter, slumping down in my seat as all the strength leaves my body, all I want to do is sleep. It’s been so long… too long. Mental and physical exhaustion seeps through my cells, my body shuts down slowly lulling me into unconsciousness.

“Nuh-uh-uh. Come on big guy, let’s get you to bed. You don’t wanna pass out here.” Gale’s voice whispers to me at the edges of my sleep drenched mind. “I’ve got you… that’s it, lean on me…” I don’t know how much time passes, if this is even real or a dream but my heart stutters and stalls leaving these words lingering in my head. “I wish… I wish I could tell you how I really feel.”

Silence. Warmth. And oblivion blanket me as I finally allow myself to let go.

Angel,

Are you still here?

I swear I saw you in the street the day before I left London, like I could reach out and touch you and you’d be real and solid beneath my fingers. I touched your shoulder and when you turned around it wasn’t you staring back at me. Those weren’t your eyes boring into me, reaching beneath the mask I wear to see my soul.

It felt like my heart froze mid beat as the blood drained from it and bled onto the floor.

The man looked at me like I was crazy because I was gasping for breath, clutching at my neck and chest, clawing blunt nails at my skin as if I could rip it right off. My eyes burned with the fury of my tears and I screamed.

I screamed.

I screamed in the middle of London like I was being flayed alive because that’s what it felt like, baby. I thought you had come back for me but instead cold, cruel eyes stared at me with an impassioned gaze that made the ground crumble beneath my feet.

I clung onto his coat as I fell to the pavement at his feet and screamed your name. I pulled so hard he shook it off as I held it close and rocked sobbing into it on the ground. I cried as if it was the first time I realised you had gone. I begged for you to come back to me. To come home… but you weren’t there.

Where are you?

I have so many questions I want need to ask you. So much I don’t understand. Nothing makes any sense… I can’t go on like this, angel.

I just…

Was it me? Did I do something wrong? Did I say or do the wrong thing? Did you realise you didn’t love me anymore?

Whatever I did, I can fix it. I will fix it because you, you are worth every breath I take. Every beat of my heart belongs to you—always has, always will.

I can’t. K, I just can’t! I’m seeing you when you’re not there. On every corner. Every time I close my eyes I see yours shining back at me, glowing in the dark.

You love me, too, don’t you? You said you did! I remember it. I hear the echoes of your voice at night when I’m lying awake in my bed. I hear it in the wind when I’m surrounded by trees. You loved to climb, ever since you were young. You used to hide in them. You might not realise it but I was watching you too.

This love, this obsession, was growing inside me then, like an insidious seed rooting deep in my soul but no matter how twisted and sick our love might be, baby. I crave it more than anything. I’ll do whatever it takes to get you back, to taste your lips one more time. To feel your skin under my fingertips.

Just tell me, please. Tell me what to do, angel. You name it and it’s yours. I’d do anything for you.

Anything…