Page 12 of Gift from the Stone

The face of my father comes to mind first. His silver hair slicked back, not a piece out of place, and his suit is pressed to perfection. His hazel eyes hold no life, just a soulless abyss of disappointment, resentment, and loathing. His face always held a hint of hope every time he raised a hand to hit me, followed by utter disgust, like I failed him in some profound way when nothing happened but me lying in a puddle of my own blood. No matter how loud I screamed, he’d hold me down and allow his doctor acquaintance to draw my blood over and over, not even attempting to get the needle in my vein properly. How he would hold me down, cut me open…

How he looked at me completely resigned on the night of Donald’s initiation. How he left me there to be gang-raped and said it was because I was just a useless woman. I’ve lived in fear of him my whole life. Never having the father-daughter relationship I always craved. I was always his punching bag.

Unhinged, brown almost black eyes stare into my soul. Even in my mind, those eyes make my body seize up, true fear taking hold. Donald’s manic laugh rings in my ears, cutting off the sound of nature I was using as a method to stay grounded.

Now all I hear is him.

The echoes of his fists hitting my body, a symphony of impacts that resonates in every crack and corner of my mind. His cruel words slither across my self-conscience. Bitch. Whore. Useless. Lazy. Disgusting. Worthless. Worthless. Worthless.

The coppery taste of blood floods my mouth and invades my senses as I feel the sting of every backhand he’s ever laid across my cheek.

The phantom pains of him forcing his way inside of me throb in my lower stomach. He shredded the thin veil of my virginity to pieces despite my body’s attempt to fight the intrusion. Over and over, he pounded into my body mercilessly, chasing his own pleasure, leaving me only feeling pain, pain, pain.

Stop. Stop. Stop.

It’s not stopping. The feel, taste, touch, smell, sight of him aren’t stopping. The years of agony, his brutal treatment, are plaguing the very essence of my soul. It’s him, only him. He’s all I’ll ever know.

NO. DIVERT.

Silence.

There’s a haunting silence before my mind and body are filled with a sense of love, safety, peace, and home. Four figures all appear in my mind, looking at me like I’m the world’s most precious gift.

A firm but sweet grasp tilts my chin up.

“I’ve got you, princess.” Corentin, always guiding the way, my light at the end of the tunnel.

Strong arms wrap me in a cocoon of safety.

“I’m here, little warrior.” Tillman, my strength, my gentle giant.

Tendrils of shadows swirl around my wrist and waist.

“I’ll chase the darkness away, little Primary.” Caspian, my ghost, from the shadows; he’ll fight my demons.

A kiss on my neck heats my skin like the rays of the sun on a summer day.

“I’ll follow you anywhere, little wanderer.” Draken, my freedom, my dragon.

My Nexus.

Clarity returns and I hold my eyes closed for a moment longer, allowing a small smile to grace my lips as I bask in the peace the diversion spell brought forth as soon as I was able to activate it on my own. It’s done more than just attach to my mind. It feels physical, like a weight’s been lifted off me that’s been holding me back.

My feelings, both intimate and emotional, toward the guys have always been present, strong, but the trauma I’ve experienced has always sat in my mind like a constant reminder that something’s wrong with me. The thought that something isn’t right within me for being okay with how much I want them. The persistent nagging that I’m not worthy of them.

Now, the weight of my trauma seems lighter. It’s like a dark veil has been lifted, allowing my mind to give every other part of me permission to give myself over fully. Embrace the fact they were made perfectly for me.

Releasing my breath, I bat the tears from my eyes and slowly open them.

Gaster’s kneeling in front of me, tears flowing down his face, so I reach out and wipe them away.

“Thank you, Gaster. You’ve given me a gift I’ll never be able to repay you for.”

“The honor is mine, Willow. You’re one of the strongest, brightest, and most courageous people I’ve ever been blessed to meet. You bring such joy and happiness to my life. I can only hope I can do the same for you,” he says as he gathers me in a hug and rubs his hand down my back.

I’ll make sure every day to remind him of how much he means to me and how thankful I am to have him in my life.

“How do you feel now that you’ve had some food and tea?” Gaster’s concern is unwarranted but much appreciated.

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