sake I wish that the blurriness on his face would disappear. I involuntarily respond, “I love you too.” Then I clamp my hand over my mouth. It’s almost like I can’t control what I’m saying, feeling or doing around this man. Shock works its way through me as I sit up and watch my lover get dressed.
This man is not Damien, and I know this, but I feel like I have to clarify it with myself several times before the thoughts actually sink in.
So then I have to ask myself one question; If this man is not, Damien, then who the hell is he?
Terror, deep vibrating terror thunders in my chest and rips me from the land of dreams. My legs tremble. My heart pounds so hard, it nearly catapults out of its cavity. My breaths are clogged in my throat, bogged down from a raw feeling, and the thick, mucus-like saliva that coats the walls of my esophagus.
I go to clutch my chest, but I can’t. I twist my shoulders, but it’s like the whole upper portion of my body has been mummified. My eyes drift down my abdomen. Oh no. Panic begins to set in when I try to move, but really can’t, the white material from the straight jacket fades in and out of focus in my eyes and the jingling noise from the metal restraints echoes in my ears. My panic is replaced with fear because I can’t imagine what I might have done. Who I might have hurt. Or when and if the staff is having a meeting at this very moment, trying to decide what they’re going to do with me.
For a second I swear the light dangling above my head flickers. I swear tortured shrieks vibrate through the walls. I can already hear the electricity humming in my head. I can taste the cotton as it’s shoved into my mouth. I can feel the electricity as it zips through my cranium and fries my mind.
No.
Not the basement. I won’t let them take me there. I’ll never let them take me there.
I have to get out of here.
Standing, my eyes dart around the room. No two beds. Two dressers. No Aurora. Padded walls for days. I’ve been put back in solitary. One cot. One person. One barred window with a man standing next to it.
A man?
With chin-length black hair, blue blue eyes, and toasted almond skin. Damien .
“Damien?” I swallow hard. My voice is hoarse. “What are you doing here?” I wiggle beneath the restraints of my straightjacket. “Damien, can you help me get out of this thing?” He ignores me. I keep my eyes on him, watching as he lowers his hands to his sides, clenching them into fists. “Damien, please.”
He answers me, but doesn’t face me. “Where were you last night?” His voice is low, chilling, even menacing. He doesn’t sound like my, Damien. My Damien’s voice is always warm, loving, and kind. “Answer me, Addy.” He’s adamant and his voice goes up an octave. “Do you know I waited for hours?” His blue eyes stare back at me through the thick panes of glass. They’re cold. Lifeless. “You abandoned me. You never showed.”
My face pinches and I have to bite my lip to keep it from quivering. Doesn’t he remember carrying me away from the staff when they came for me with their precious needles? Doesn’t he remember riding in like a white knight on a stallion and coming to my rescue? “But… but you were there with me?” I stammer. “You held me.” I shake my head and struggle beneath the straightjacket. “Don’t you remember?”
I see Damien’s eyes narrow through the window, a scowl form on his lips, and his thick black eyebrows scrunch together. “Where?”
I cast my eyes downward at my hidden hands. “I don’t know where, but I could have sworn you were there, carrying me down the hall.”
Damien lets out a frustrated sigh, runs a shaky hand through his ebony locks and purses his lips. “No. I was in the utility closet, waiting for you.”
“Then who was the man carrying me down hall?
“Man?” Damien growls and slams his fist into the white padding on the wall. “What fucking man?”
“I don’t know. Damien, I thought
This man is not Damien, and I know this, but I feel like I have to clarify it with myself several times before the thoughts actually sink in.
So then I have to ask myself one question; If this man is not, Damien, then who the hell is he?
Terror, deep vibrating terror thunders in my chest and rips me from the land of dreams. My legs tremble. My heart pounds so hard, it nearly catapults out of its cavity. My breaths are clogged in my throat, bogged down from a raw feeling, and the thick, mucus-like saliva that coats the walls of my esophagus.
I go to clutch my chest, but I can’t. I twist my shoulders, but it’s like the whole upper portion of my body has been mummified. My eyes drift down my abdomen. Oh no. Panic begins to set in when I try to move, but really can’t, the white material from the straight jacket fades in and out of focus in my eyes and the jingling noise from the metal restraints echoes in my ears. My panic is replaced with fear because I can’t imagine what I might have done. Who I might have hurt. Or when and if the staff is having a meeting at this very moment, trying to decide what they’re going to do with me.
For a second I swear the light dangling above my head flickers. I swear tortured shrieks vibrate through the walls. I can already hear the electricity humming in my head. I can taste the cotton as it’s shoved into my mouth. I can feel the electricity as it zips through my cranium and fries my mind.
No.
Not the basement. I won’t let them take me there. I’ll never let them take me there.
I have to get out of here.
Standing, my eyes dart around the room. No two beds. Two dressers. No Aurora. Padded walls for days. I’ve been put back in solitary. One cot. One person. One barred window with a man standing next to it.
A man?
With chin-length black hair, blue blue eyes, and toasted almond skin. Damien .
“Damien?” I swallow hard. My voice is hoarse. “What are you doing here?” I wiggle beneath the restraints of my straightjacket. “Damien, can you help me get out of this thing?” He ignores me. I keep my eyes on him, watching as he lowers his hands to his sides, clenching them into fists. “Damien, please.”
He answers me, but doesn’t face me. “Where were you last night?” His voice is low, chilling, even menacing. He doesn’t sound like my, Damien. My Damien’s voice is always warm, loving, and kind. “Answer me, Addy.” He’s adamant and his voice goes up an octave. “Do you know I waited for hours?” His blue eyes stare back at me through the thick panes of glass. They’re cold. Lifeless. “You abandoned me. You never showed.”
My face pinches and I have to bite my lip to keep it from quivering. Doesn’t he remember carrying me away from the staff when they came for me with their precious needles? Doesn’t he remember riding in like a white knight on a stallion and coming to my rescue? “But… but you were there with me?” I stammer. “You held me.” I shake my head and struggle beneath the straightjacket. “Don’t you remember?”
I see Damien’s eyes narrow through the window, a scowl form on his lips, and his thick black eyebrows scrunch together. “Where?”
I cast my eyes downward at my hidden hands. “I don’t know where, but I could have sworn you were there, carrying me down the hall.”
Damien lets out a frustrated sigh, runs a shaky hand through his ebony locks and purses his lips. “No. I was in the utility closet, waiting for you.”
“Then who was the man carrying me down hall?
“Man?” Damien growls and slams his fist into the white padding on the wall. “What fucking man?”
“I don’t know. Damien, I thought
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