Page 8

EIGHT

clodagh

The door slams and my body jolts. I can hear his footsteps growing closer and closer.

The floorboards creak under his weight as he approaches the room where he keeps me.

I can smell the alcohol on his breath before I even see him.

The door flies open, and there he stands, looming over me with that cruel smile.

"Miss me, pretty girl?" he sneers, reaching for me with those rough hands.

I try to scream, but no sound comes out. I'm frozen, helpless, terrified that he’s going to hurt me again. I can’t believe he’s back, that he’s got me once again.

His laughter is cruel as he edges closer to me. Terror gnaws at me, gripping me in a chokehold. He’s going to kill me this time. I just know he will. Just as he did to my family.

I wake up with a strangled gasp, my heart pounding wildly. For a moment, I'm disoriented, expecting to see the dirty walls of that cabin. But as my eyes adjust to the darkness, I realize I'm in my room at Tammy's house.

It was just a nightmare. He's not here. I'm safe.

I sit up, pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. I'm shaking, cold sweat making my pajamas stick to my skin. The fear feels so real, so visceral. Even though I know he's in prison, that he can't hurt me anymore, the terror still lingers.

There's a soft knock at my door. "Clodagh?" Tammy's gentle voice calls out. "Are you alright, sweetheart? I heard a noise."

I want to tell her I'm fine and not to worry, but when I open my mouth, all that comes out is a choked sob.

The door opens slowly and Tammy peeks in. When she sees me huddled on the bed, she comes in, moving carefully so as not to startle me.

"Oh, sweetheart," she says softly. "Another nightmare?"

I nod, unable to speak through my tears. Tammy sits on the edge of the bed, close enough to offer comfort but not so close as to make me uncomfortable.

"You're safe now, Clodagh," she says. "He can't hurt you anymore. You're here with me, and I promise I'll protect you."

Her words are kind, and I want desperately to believe them, but the fear is still there, clawing at my insides.

"What if he comes back?" I whisper, voicing my deepest fear for the first time. "What if he finds me again?"

Tammy's face softens with understanding. "He won't, love. He's in prison, and he's going to stay there for a very long time. And even if he wasn't, I wouldn't let anyone hurt you. Not ever again."

She holds out her hand, palm up, offering comfort without demanding it. After a moment's hesitation, I place my smaller hand in hers. Her skin is warm and soft, so different from his rough, cruel hands.

"Would you like some hot chocolate?" she asks. "I find it always helps me when I can't sleep."

I nod, wiping my tears with my free hand. As we walk to the kitchen, Tammy keeping hold of my hand, I feel the fear start to recede. It's not gone completely—I don't know if it ever will be—but it's manageable now.

As I sip the warm, chocolate drink, watching Tammy putter around the kitchen, I realize something. This isn't just a house I'm staying in until something better comes along. This is becoming home. And Tammy, with her gentle ways and unlimited patience, is becoming family.

"I used to have nightmares too," she says, surprising me. "After my husband died. They were so real, I'd wake up thinking he was still alive, and then I'd have to lose him all over again."

I look up at her, seeing the pain in her eyes. "What did you do?" I whisper.

She smiles softly. "I learned to remind myself, every night before I went to sleep, that I was safe. That the bad things couldn't hurt me anymore. And when I woke up scared, I'd tell myself the same thing."

"Does it work?"

"Most of the time," she says. "And when it doesn't, I get up and make myself a cup of hot chocolate."

I nod, taking another sip of my hot chocolate. The warm liquid seems to chase away the last remnants of my nightmare. We sit in comfortable silence for a while. The only sound is the quiet ticking of the clock on the wall.

"Tammy?" I ask hesitantly.

"Yes, love?"

"Do you think... do you think I'll ever stop being scared?"

Tammy looks at me, her eyes full of compassion. "Oh, Clodagh. I wish I could tell you the fear will disappear completely, but the truth is, it might always be there in some form. What I can tell you is that it will get easier. You'll learn to manage it, to not let it control you."

She reaches across the table and gently takes my hand. "And you won't have to do it alone. I'll be here, every step of the way."

I feel tears welling up in my eyes again, but this time they're not from fear. It's a different feeling, one I can't quite name. Gratitude, maybe. Or hope.

"Thank you," I whisper.

Tammy squeezes my hand. "You're welcome, sweetheart. Now, how about we try to get some more sleep? I'll stay with you until you fall asleep if you'd like."

I nod, suddenly feeling very tired. As we walk back to my room, I realize that for the first time since that horrible day, I don't feel completely alone.

Tammy tucks me in, smoothing the blankets around me. She sits on the edge of the bed, humming softly. It's not a tune I recognize, but it's soothing.

As I drift off to sleep, I think about what Tammy said. The fear might always be there, but I don't have to face it alone anymore. And maybe, just maybe, that's enough to start healing.

* * *

The smell of pancakes wakes me, and a small smile plays on my lips. This feels normal, like this is where I’m supposed to be now. I know my family will always be with me in my heart, but while they can’t be with me physically, Tammy will be.

I pad downstairs to find Tammy at the stove, flipping pancakes. Mister Whiskers is winding around her ankles, hoping for a treat.

"Good morning, Clodagh," Tammy says with a smile. "How are you feeling?"

I consider the question for a moment. "Better," I say, and I'm surprised to find that it's true. The nightmare seems far away in the bright morning light.

"I'm glad," Tammy says. "Now, how about some breakfast? I made your favorite—blueberry pancakes."

As I sit down at the table, watching Tammy pile pancakes onto my plate, I feel a small spark of warmth in my chest. It's not happiness, not yet, but it's something close to contentment. A feeling of safety and belonging that I thought I'd never experience again.

"Thank you," I say softly as Tammy places the plate in front of me.

She smiles, ruffling my hair gently as she passes. "You're welcome, love. Eat up now. We've got a busy day ahead."

I look up, curiosity piqued. "We do?"

Tammy nods, sitting down across from me with her own plate. "I thought we might go to that park I told you about. Feed the ducks, maybe have a picnic if you're feeling up to it. But only if you want to, of course."

The idea of going out still makes me a bit nervous, but I find myself nodding. "I'd like that," I say, surprising myself with how much I mean it.

As we eat, Tammy chatters about her plans for the garden, asking for my input on what flowers we should plant. It strikes me suddenly how naturally she says "we," including me in her plans without hesitation.

After breakfast, I help Tammy pack a picnic basket. She lets me choose what sandwiches to make and which snacks to bring. It's a small thing, but having control over these decisions makes me feel more secure, more normal.

At the park, we find a quiet spot by the lake. Tammy spreads out a blanket and we sit, tossing bread to the eager ducks. The sun is warm on my face, and the sound of children playing in the distance mixes with the quacking of the ducks.

"Tammy?" I say after a while, my voice quiet.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

I hesitate, unsure how to express what I'm feeling. "I... I just wanted to say thank you. For everything."

Tammy's eyes soften. She reaches out slowly, giving me time to pull away if I want to, and gently squeezes my hand. "Oh, Clodagh. You don't need to thank me. I'm just so glad you're here with me."

I nod, blinking back tears. We sit in comfortable silence for a while, watching the ducks swim across the lake.

“Tomorrow, I have an appointment booked for you to speak to someone. It will help you come to terms with everything and also help you heal.”

I stay silent, my body tensing at Tammy's words. The idea of talking to a stranger about everything that happened makes my stomach churn. I've barely been able to discuss it with the police, let alone open up to someone I don't know.

Tammy must sense my unease because she quickly adds, "It's okay if you're not ready, Clodagh. There's no pressure. The therapist is very kind and experienced with helping children who've been through trauma. But if you don't want to go, we don't have to."

I pick at the grass beside the blanket, avoiding Tammy's gaze. "Do I have to talk about... everything?" I ask quietly.

"No, sweetheart," Tammy says gently. "You only have to talk about what you're comfortable with. The therapist is there to help you, not to force you to relive painful memories."

I nod slowly, still uncertain. "Will... will you come with me?"

"Of course," Tammy says without hesitation. "I'll be right there in the waiting room the whole time. And if you want me to come in with you, I can do that too."

Her words ease some of the tension in my chest. I take a deep breath, steeling myself. "Okay," I whisper. "I'll try."

Tammy smiles softly. "That's very brave of you, Clodagh. I'm proud of you for being willing to try."

Her praise warms me, and I feel a small surge of determination. Maybe talking to someone will help. Maybe it will make the nightmares less frequent, the fear less overwhelming.

"Can we feed the ducks some more?" I ask, changing the subject.

"Of course," Tammy says, reaching for the bag of bread. "Here, why don't you try calling them over?"

Tossing bread to the eager ducks, I think about tomorrow's appointment. I'm still nervous, but there's a tiny spark of hope too. If it can help me feel better, help me move past the horrible things that happened, then maybe it's worth trying.

For now, though, I focus on the present moment. The sun on my face, the soft blanket beneath me, Tammy's gentle presence beside me. For the first time in months, I feel something close to peace.

While packing up our picnic later, Tammy asks, "Was this okay? Coming to the park?"

I nod, surprising myself with how much I mean it. "Yeah," I say. "It was... nice."

Tammy beams at me, and I feel a small smile tugging at my own lips. It's not much, but it's a start. A step toward healing, toward a new kind of normal.

As we walk back to the car, Tammy's hand gentle on my shoulder, I realize something.

The future is still uncertain, still scary in many ways, but for the first time since that terrible night, I feel a glimmer of hope for what lies ahead.

With Tammy by my side, maybe I can face whatever comes next.

Maybe, just maybe, I can find a way to be okay again.

While Tammy drives home, I lean my head against the window, watching the world go by. The fear and pain aren't gone—I don't know if they ever will be completely—but right now, in this moment, I feel safe. I feel cared for. And that's more than I thought I'd ever have again.

"Clodagh?" Tammy says softly as we pull into the driveway.

I turn to look at her. "Yes?"

She smiles, her eyes warm. "I'm really glad you're here with me. I hope you know that."

I nod, feeling a lump form in my throat. "Me too," I whisper.

As we walk into the house, Mister Whiskers greeting us with loud meows.

It’s weird. I didn’t mean for it to happen.

But between Tammy, this cat who basically owns my heart, and a room that’s starting to feel like it belongs to me…

this place doesn’t feel like somewhere I’m just staying. It feels like home.

And for the first time since that horrible night, I feel like maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay.