Page 35 of Taking Control
“Dependent.”
“I am the only one who can love you.”
Tears blur my vision.
Silent sobs catch in my throat.
My head pounds.
My pulse weakens.
“Mine.”
“Mine.”
“Always mine.”
I gasp for breath as I sit up, willing the pain to go.
I can’t do this.
I’m not strong enough.
The sweat pours down my face, the droplets rolling down my back as I look around the dark room, expecting to see him stood over me.
Michael.
My worst nightmare, but also my reality.
My breaths come thick and fast as I adjust to my surroundings.
I’m not led on the floor.
I’m not curled into a ball, trying to protect as much of my body as I can.
Michael isn’t looking over me.
He isn’t even in the room.
But Cal is.
He’s sat in a chair beside my bed, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling slowly.
Breathe in.
Breath out.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Slow and steady.
I try to calm my mind and my heart from the brutal dream that forced me into a frenzy.
Dreams are meant to be full of happiness, of hearts and rainbows, of what the mind desires and what the heart holds closest to them.
But my dreams aren’t like that.
