“Annalise,” I whispered, trying not to say anything that might trigger her even worse. “Why?”
Her chin dropped to her chest and before I opened my mouth to say something, she glanced at me.
“Why what?”
“Your reaction when he touched you. Every time someone touches you, your body freezes with terror.” My voice lowered as I kept looking at her.
I wanted to make her feel comfortable talking about what she felt a few moments ago. I wanted to convince her that I could be trusted, that I could be the safe place where she could hide from anything that scared her, just like I’d been for all these years.
I noticed her behavior getting worse as we grew up, but I didn’t have the courage to bring it up in our discussions. Every time someone else was touching her, her facial expression dropped and her eyes were shouting for help. I didn’t know why, neither did I find the right moment to ask her. But now, I couldn’t sit there and do nothing. I had to know what happened to her.
“Why the fear of touching, Anna?”
“I-I don’t know where it comes from… I-I just don’t like to be touched,” she blubbered and started playing with her fingers.
It was something I noticed she did every time she felt anxious or was overwhelmed by negative emotions.
Something inside me ignited, and the fire of true anger made my blood boil in each one of the tiny veins in my body.
I don’t like to be touched. I don’t know where it comes from.
Her words stuck in my heart and threatened to linger there forever.
The memories of the girls our organization sold came in a rush to my mind, making me remember how scared they were of any touch. Some of them used to scream, while others had the exact same reaction as Anna — they froze, while their eyes were screaming for help.
Her words were the words of a victim of abuse, and I could’ve ripped off the head of the one who did whatever the hell he did to my dearest little one if only she had given me a name. But I didn’t ask her for more, because she was already shaking and drowning in her own pain. I didn’t want to harm her any further right now.
But no.
I didn’t want to think that she was abused. Not even for a second.
I didn’t want to accept such a thing happened to her, because that meant it happened under my eyes and I didn’t notice anything.
It couldn’t be true.
“You don’t remember anything?”
Shut your damn mouth, Maksen.
She looked at me and her emerald irises became greener because of the teardrops starting to roll down her cheeks.
I had this overwhelming urge to step forward and take her into my arms. But I didn’t. I stood in the exact same position she left me in before she jumped away from me.
My question brought a note of confusion onto her face as if she had never thought of it before.
“Should I have something to remember? D-Do you think I forgot the reason why I’m afraid of being touched?”
My soul was dying with every word she whispered because she was so innocent that she didn’t even take into consideration that she might’ve been a victim. But what scared me the most was that she wasn’t remembering anything.
As far as I was concerned, if you forgot your abuses, then that was your body’s way of trying to protect you from a trauma it knew you wouldn’t be able to heal from.
“Did someone touch you in a way that made you feel uncomfortable?” I said, and I almost wanted to punch myself in the face.
I couldn’t help but ask her. If there was someone who caused her any harm, I was going to kill that person.
She fixed me with her big round eyes and a tear rolled down her cheek.
“Only in my nightmares,” she sobbed and took a few steps back so she could sit down on the little bed near the window. “I always had these nightmares. These awful nightmares where this dark veiled man is chasing me, tying me up, and…”