So, I let myself sleep.
* * *
I can hear them, the voices. My mom and two other men.
I know what they’re doing out there. I can smell it.
I turn my face and inhale into my sweater to try and rid myself of the stench.
I uncurl my legs and wince at the cramp in my calves, but I can’t extend them all the way. The closet is too narrow. I curl my fingers into my palm and feel my fingernails bite into the skin there.
Tears stain my cheeks but I can’t panic. I can’t make sounds. Because if they hear me cry…that’s when the monsters come.
I squeeze my eyes closed, and I inhale deeply, but I’m sinking into it.
The despair.
The never-ending spiral.
Inhaling shakily, I run my hand along the wall and dig into a groove with my nail.
Just a little longer. Time moves in minutes here. Not days. Days are too long. When the weekend is over, maybe she’ll let me out. Then I can go to school.
I can escape for a short time.
“He’s in there,” my mom says, and I hold my breath.
Because I’d rather be locked up in here than out there. It’s never good to be out there with them.
“No, leave him,” she says, and I exhale shakily.
Maybe they’ll leave me alone. I want to sink into the cement floor and disappear where no one can find me.
But then the door creaks open and light filters over me, and I open my mouth to scream…
* * *
I wake with a gasp, my entire body sweating and my heart racing.
It's dark and I scramble to sit up, but I can’t move. Someone is holding me down, holding me tight.
Not again.
Not again. I let out a loud cry, clawing at the man, the monster, gouging my fingernails in.
I’ll fight until I die. I’m grunting and raging like a wild animal, saliva pooling in my mouth as I struggle against the bonds.
I have to get out.
I have to run.
“Emery. Shhh. Stop, you’re okay,” a familiar voice shouts, jarring me out of my panic, and my body stills. I blink rapidly and look down to see August’s face in the faint moonlight. Beautiful, kind August.
His eyes are wide as he holds me, scratches run down the side of his face, his hair is rumpled, and his lip looks swollen.
“Oh my god,” I cry, a sob stuck in the back of my throat, and I wrench myself away from him. The zipper rips as I roll out of the sleeping bag and push my way out the back of the SUV and into the snow. I fall onto my hands and knees, and there’s a vague awareness that everything burns, but I can’t feel it.Not really.
I feel nothing.