I have been renewed, I am what you would call the quintessential phoenix, rising from the ashes. I have been reborn to something that will not be so easily slayed. I will take Chase up on his earlier offer to train me. I will never again in my lifetime be left at anyone’s mercy. I will grow strong and I will concur all of my fears.
I have been defiled and degraded. I have been beaten and raped. I have been robbed of my love, my youth and my sweet essence of virginity. I have been ripped of my sanity. I have been used and abused. My body has been torn and my soul has been shattered and in the end, I was thrown away like fetid trash, but…NO MORE!
As I sit here staring at my man, as I sit here broken, but mending. As I watch tears mirroring my own leak from his eyes, I promise myself that I will get strong. I will no longer live in fear!
My inner declaration was interrupted. “Amber…” He gets choked up saying my name. His look is full of turmoil and on top of that, he looks drained.
Even though the smallest movement hurts like hell, especially around my chest and mid-section; I suck it up and endure the pain because seeing him like this hurts me more than a thousand kicks to my ribs. I will sacrifice for him. I lean over and squeeze his hand.
“Amber – I’M SORRY!” He wails.
Sorry! He’s Sorry! He didn’t do this. He isn’t the cause of me laying in this bed. NO, this isn’t right! I refuse for him to take on my burden.
“Sorry for what?!” I ask forcefully. “Sorry, that I was attacked? Sorry, that I was beaten like I was the lowest piece of shit scum imaginable? Sorry, that I was raped in the worse way possible?” These questions were asked shamefully. I take in a shaky breath. “No, the person who violated me is, SORRY…a sorry son-of-a-bitch! You, you’re the reason that I breathe.” This last part was said reverently.
I look up at him with tears unhindered. “You, have nothing to be sorry for!”
“I should have been there. I could have followed you home to make sure you were safe. After the first call that went unanswered, I should have left the club right then to check on you.” He’s crying and it’s tearing my heart into infinitesimal pieces.
“Chase…babe…you couldn’t have known this was going to happen to me. Don’t…don’t try to shoulder this, please.”
“BUT, I DID KNOW! I HAD A FEELING SOMETHING WASN’T RIGHT! I COULD HAVE SAVED YOU! DON’T YOU SEE, I COULD HAVE STOPPED THIS FROM HAPPENING?” He yells at me, at himself, he yells at the world as a whole.
“I love you.” I whisper in the wake of his turbulent storm. “I love you.” I whisper this again and again and again.
I whisper this until my words penetrate his vail of madness, his self-loathing. I whisper, I – Love – You, until I see the storm clouds that have formed in his eyes float away to leave behind a slightly churning sea. I whisper, I – Love – You, until he can see reason and speak to me.
“Amber, you can’t go back there. I won’t allow you to go back to that house. I’ll burn that bitch down before you ever step foot on that property again. To know someone did…did…took…touched…VIOLATED YOU!” I jump as his balled fist crashes down on the rolling hospital tray.
He’s trying to hold it together, but the way his entire body is vibrating I can tell he’s hanging on by a very thin thread. I give him the only response that is guaranteed to cool his ire.
“Okay.” I timidly say.
This causes him to still. It’s kind of eerie to see someone who was so animated before, halt all actions based on one word. Did he honestly think I would deny him this? Not in a million years would I go back to living in that house, not after such a brutal attack. I can’t help but think, if I would have taken him up on this offer when he first mentioned it I would not be laying in a hospital bed at this particular moment.
I fully understand that this is my out and I’m taking it. I’m grabbing on with both hands and not letting go. I’m waving the white flag while yelling at the top of my lungs, I SURRENDER!
Several seconds, maybe minutes, tick by as he stands examining my face. Did I shock him with my quick surrender? As he stands weighing that single yet profound word, he comes to a decision. He nods his head once.
“Okay.” He says solemnly. “Give me one minute.” He says, as he walks to the door then exits my room.
Chapter 26
It’s been months since my release from the hospital, four and a half months to be exact. Every single month was used for healing mentally and physically. I suffered many injuries from that dreadful night. I have scars that are daily reminders of the horrors that I endured.
I sustained a laceration to my forehead, which needed twenty stitches to close. The attack left me with three cracked ribs from his booted vicious blows, a broken ankle, tearing to my rectum and plenty of bruises. Those are just the physical injuries. My mental injuries were much worse. My mental could not be fixed by a simple cast or stitch. No, let’s just say, I have a weekly standing appointment with a psychiatrist to help me through my many issues. At first, I was adamant of my choice not to see a shrink.
It took over a week for me to be medically released. Actually, I was released from the hospital forty-eight hours after I gained consciousness. I was then transferred to the psych unit for evaluation. It’s universal, it seems it is highly frowned on when one tries to take their own life, no matter what horrific events pushes you to your breaking point.
I was closely monitored and put on suicide watch. I told the doctors numerous times, that I would never try to kill myself again. To them, I was one of many in a place where many have tried to extinguish their own flame. So, I quickly learned to shut my trap and play the hand I was given. Before I made up my mind to shut the hell up, I made the mistake of telling the doctors that it was a simple act made out of desperation and despair. Bring on the meds!
The assholes thought I was going to go all “Hail Mary” and slit my throat at a moment’s notice. Then the questions came. How do we know that the next time you find yourself in a desperate situation, you won’t try to slit your wrist again? The doctors asked questions, trying to unlock my many secrets, but those thoughts, those memories are locked behind the strongest of locks. Heaven help me, no one is privy to the horrors of my life, especially people I don’t know. When I’m good and ready there is only one person who I will unlock that vault for. The last time I looked his name does not have “Dr.” in front of it.
Next, came the questioning from our fine boys in blue. What time did you leave the club? Do you have any known enemies? Why did you decide not to enter the home from the front door? Are the motion light typically turned off at night? Did you recognize your attacker?
I know…I Know! I should have spilled the beans. I should have pointed the police right in my father’s direction. But, something kept whispering in my mind that it wasn’t the right time for my reveal. So, mum is the word for the time being.
After so many questions and so many side glances, who would willingly volunteer for more? My reaction to anyone’s suggestion regarding me seeing a shrink was, HELL NO! A week in that freakish facility was enough therapy for me. Thank you, but hell no, please pass the next dish called, moving on with my life, please. Unfortunately, moving on with my life, were empty words for me, my issues ran deep.
One of the rules moving into Chase’s home set by Mrs. Mitchell was that, Chase and I must sleep in separate rooms. My room was located upstairs next to Gloria’s (Mrs. Mitchell) room. Sadly, the rules were tested, failed and soon changed. After the first week in my new home, surrounded by my new things, sleeping in my new room…all alone, all hell broke loose. At night in the darkness it seemed as if the shadows took on a familiar shape…a familiar face…the night terrors began.
Blood curdling screams were heard throughout the house. That second week was pure hell for me. At some point, Chase got fed up with running up and down the stairs to vanquish my phantom attacker, he started sleeping on a pallet outside of my room door. This went on for four days. On the fifth nig
ht I couldn’t stomach sleeping in my room alone. I stayed up until everyone in the house was asleep, creeping on silent feet into the hallway I crawled under the covers with Chase. I needed his strong protective arms around me. I needed to feel safe, safe enough to get a few hours of sleep to remove the bags from my eyes which had developed from my many restless nights. To both our surprise my phantom assailant did not show that night.
The next morning Chase and I were both scolded by his mother. We’ve assured her plenty of times that there is no hanky panky going on nor, have we ever taken that last step in our relationship. She did not believe us. She wanted to know if I was on some sort of contraception.
I was more than a little embarrassed. First of all, who could think about any sort of sexual act when your physical body is so broken and battered? Chase made sure to point this little fact out to his mother. Through my embarrassment, I answered her questions. I knew she was doing, saying and asking the questions any responsible parent would ask. I pulled up my big girl panties and let her know that I had been on the pill since I was fourteen in order to regulate my menstrual cycle. This morphed into a conversation and Chase quickly exited the room.
Knowing that I was on the pill seemed to satisfy her somewhat, but she was still adamant that we not sleep together, clothed or unclothed under her roof. I felt bad for getting Chase in trouble, I was the one who climbed under his covers. Mrs. Mitchell ended the discussion by telling Chase to stop sleeping in the hall and reminding him that he has a room with a perfectly good bed. Chase and I reluctantly agreed to the terms set upon us.
On the sixth night, I had the worst episode to date. I tell you, the mind can trick you into believing the unbelievable. What my mind showed me was a very familiar scene, one that has been played out damn near my entire life. A scene where he enters my room and leans over my prone body to clasp his mighty hands over my mouth, so that my frightened screams could not rent the night air.
It felt so real! I screamed…I screamed...and I screamed some more. I was torn between the current reality and my past reality. I was so terrified that I wet the bed that night. The lights flicked on and Chase ran to my bed and kneeled by my side. I covered my face with my hands out of embarrassment.
“I peed the bed.” I whispered to him. I sat crying in my soiled bed.
“That’s okay, I’m guessing when we get old and gray I’ll be saying that to you a lot, as well.” He chuckles and kisses my forehead before he gets up to join his mother at the bedroom door.
“That’s it mom, I’ve tried it your way. She belongs with me. I promise no slick stuff under your roof, but she will be in my room from now on.”
I look up to see Gloria’s concerned face staring back at her son. She nods her head, says her goodnights and goes back to her room. Hell, she’s probably behind her closed door doing a jig because I will no longer be sleeping next door waking her up in the wee hours with my screaming fits. I notice Chase walking over to my dresser, he pulls out some underwear and a night shirt and takes the items into my bathroom.
I’m too embarrassed to move. I stay seated as I hear the shower turn on. When I look up again with watery eyes he has returned to my side.
“Stop crying Amber, it’s okay.” He whispers to me.
“It’s embarrassing!” I cry.
He shakes his head. “Go take a shower. After you calm down we’ll talk, okay?”
I gather my courage as I stand, dripping piss as I walk in shame. When I am done cleaning myself, washing away all the self-loathing and self-pity, I dress and reenter the room. To my surprise, the bed has been stripped and remade.
“You can’t put sheets on a wet mattress.” I say.
“I know that.” He smiles at me. “There is a mattress protector on all the beds, you didn’t ruin it. Ummm, it didn’t touch the mattress at all.”
“I could have cleaned up my on mess, you know?”
“I know you could have, Amber. It’s okay, I don’t mind.” He pulls me into his arms. “We’re going to try something different tonight. Let’s try sleeping in my room…in my bed…together.” He looks down at me with a sly smile and wiggles his eyebrows. When I didn’t refute this, he continued. “When we slept together last night you didn’t wake once screaming. Let’s see if this will work, okay?”
I reluctantly agreed because I knew his mother did not wholeheartedly agree with this decision. From that night to the present day I now end the night sleeping back to chest in Chase’s bed. Other life altering decisions were made that night as well, we both agreed that I needed to seek help. All the phantom visits and distorted images pointed to a pending psychotic break, which I knew in my heart I would not be able to shake if I did not seek professional help.
Thus, every week, I’m in need of therapy, I am reluctant no more. I’m on the road to recovery and I must admit, I’m liking where this road is leading me.
Chapter 27
I slowly wake when I feel the bed dip. His left arm snakes around my middle to pulls me into the position that we wake to every morning, my back to his front. It would be so easy for me to grind my backside against him and take the relationship to the next level. There is no doubt, it would be explosive, but I can’t.
Believe me, we have gotten really close to tumbling over the edge to act on our all-consuming cravings for each other. As each day/night passes it gets really hard…REALLY HARD, to not act on the sexual tension that oozes from our very pores. But, his mother said no intercourse so, no intercourse it is.
We are trying our best to respect her wishes. Her wish is for us to finish school and to go off to college. Pregnancy is a big concern for her, she’s terrified that I will become knocked up and destroy the dreams she has of her son finishing college. Her worries are legitimate, I totally understand. My dreams are the same as hers. I want us both to be able to go to college and get our degree without worrying about a little tike on my hip. So, no actual sex for us at the moment.
“It’s time to get up sleepyhead.” He buries his face in my hair. I can feel his hot minty breath on the back of my neck, it sends delicious chills skittering down to my core.
“I’m not ready to get up right now.” I groggily respond.
His hand is splayed on my lower abdomen. With a little bit of pressure he causes me to scoot closer to his body. My ass is now securely seated on top/next to his boxer covered groin. Damn, damn, damn…I promised Gloria what again? Something about sex? We’re not supposed to…
“Ohhh!” My breathy groaned release as his hands traveled up my sensitive body was all my brain could come up with.
He cupped my left breast and skillfully pinch and tweak my nipple. I’m trying my best to remember what she wants us not to do, but my mind short circuits when Chase releases a hungry growl in my ear and simultaneously grinds his deliciously thick rod against my backside.
I’m so wet and turned on that I start to whimper in need. My mind is telling me to stop, that what we are doing is somewhat against the rules. Technically, we haven’t had sex so, I think we’re good. My body has a mind of its own, I’m withering against his body trying my best to get closer to him. My night shirt has risen up so that my panty-clad-ass is in direct contact of his clothed manhood. I can’t help, but to rock against it.
“Do you trust me?” He whispers in my ear.
“With my life.”
His hand leaves my breast and travels to the hem of my night shirt, he brings it up and over my head. I’m laying here braless withering in desire. This level of want, of need, I have never experienced it before. I am on my back shaking from anticipation as desire courses through my veins. I want his touch, no, I need his touch. I look into his eyes to find the same want, need and love gazing back at me.
“I love you.”
“And, I you.” He smiles at my response.
“Chase, please – touch me.” I nervously demand.
“Your wish is my command.”
He is now positioned between my legs. The only barrier ke
eping us apart are our underwear. He cups my face with his hands and proceeds to sear my nerve endings with the touch of his lips on mine. I open my mouth allowing him to explore every nook and cranny of my soul. Our combined whimpers are caught within the confines the barriers our lips have made. We pull away from each other reluctantly.
“We have to stop!” We say in unison as we chuckle at each other’s words.
Instead, I push up with my pelvis as he pushes down with his, searching for that sweet spot that’s eluded us for months on end. I whimper as our most intimate parts collide and exquisite sparks fly. Tears leak from my eyes out of pure frustration. My need for this man is overwhelming.
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