Page 17 of Scarred in Silence

I stand in the rocky creek. Water flows over my feet. The water is cold, yet comforting. I hear the sounds of leaves rustling and the chirping of crickets. I smell the fresh water and evergreens swirling in the air around me. The sun glistens on my skin, shimmering in the light. The blood drips down my leg into the water. I hold the razorblade against my thigh as I cut myself.

The blood mixes with the pure water, cleansing me of my self-doubt. The blade hears me, it listens. The blood is the screams that no one can hear.

I feel myself getting lighter. Everything will be okay. I’m alive. I can feel pain.

Pain is good.

I sit down in the cold water and let it wash my wounds clean. The water is strong. The water is powerful.

I wonder what it would feel like to be water?

I snap from my thoughts and see Lucien standing at the bottom of the ladder, watching me. I quickly shut off the water and cover myself with a towel.

“Can I help you?” I snap.

He stands still, frozen.

“Hello?” I wave my hand in his direction. He snaps out of his intense stare. His eyes travel up my body as if it were a map.

I squeeze the towel tighter around myself.

“What do you want?”

He walks closer, standing just a foot in front of me. The soles of his shoes squeak against the wet concrete.

“What do you want?” His tone is low and inviting.

What do I want? I don’t fucking know. Maybe to get out of this place. Where the fuck am I anyways? My head has been so clouded from withdrawal that I forgot to ask.

“Well, first, I want to know where I am.”

He chuckles.

“You’re in an abandoned building in the middle of an extensive property.”

“Could you be more specific?”

Hereads my facial expression, which is pleading for an answer.

“Colorado.”

Relief washes over me at the revelation.

“I’m surprised it took you so long to ask me that,” he laughs.

My eyes narrow at him, letting him know I don’t find that funny.

“I want to go home.”

His eyes narrow at me now. A shiver skates up my spine and settles deep in my bones.

“You are home,” he says with a chilling smile.

No… He can’t possibly think I will live in this basement forever.

“No… I’m not staying here forever.”

He steps in closer, pressing his chest to mine. Only the thin material of the towel separates us. His dirty blonde hair is messy, and his teeth are sparkling white. He is everything I used to want. I used to think he was perfect, but now I know he has flaws.