Page 15 of Fate Awakened

I don’t have a family. I haven’t started my career, as much as I was looking forward to that step in my life. I don’t even have Cain anymore, not that I’m sure I ever did. So everything seems a little hopeless.

Unfortunately, the other side of me is furious that I’ve fallen into this situation. I’m smarter than this, stronger, better than dying at the hands of a bunch of criminals. I’ve lived my entire life on the straight and narrow. I don’t break laws. I pay my bills on time, and I have been working my ass off to make something of myself.

None of that matters when you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time. Life isn’t fair. It never has been. If it were, Sam would still be here, and I would’ve died in that car, or hell, she could’ve died and left us both here to live our lives together.

With the two sides of myself warring over what I should do next, my body takes over and shuts itself down.

Maybe sleep will provide some clarity, or perhaps it’ll just shorten the time until whoever Hudson's taking me to decides my fate.

***

I hear the footsteps slowly plodding closer. The floor creaks involuntarily as he nears, and I freeze, temper my breathing, and close my eyes. My heartbeat pounds so loudly against my ribs that I’m sure he can hear it. The sharp creak from the top step announces his arrival as the hinges groan with the opening of the door.

Peeking, so I still appear asleep, I see only his silhouette as the bright light behind him hides his expression. He sways, stretching out an arm to brace himself on the frame. He doesn’t descend the stairs immediately, as if considering his decision.

In the three weeks I’d been here, Carl attempted to get me alone a handful of times. But since they were between paychecks, his wife had been sober and, as the jealous type, kept him on a short leash. I was thankful for that aspect of her nature. That was until today when the check came from the state, and she put it straight into her arm, leaving me alone.

I let out a slow breath, attempting to calm my heart rate, sealing my eyes again. Hoping he wasn’t the man I thought he was. The man who had stolen glances at me when he thought I wasn’t looking. The man with the wrong kind of sparkle in his eye when I walked into his living room behind the CPS worker.

He carefully made his way down to me. The stench of stale beer and unwashed body odor floated in the air, overpowering even the mildew I’d become accustomed to. I followed the sound of his movements as he leaned down closer to me.

His hand lightly traced my face, tucking a stray hair behind my ear while I focused all of my attention on not flinching under his touch.

Maybe he’ll go? If I just hold still, he’ll leave.

The thought’s out and just as quickly extinguished as that same hand glides to my shoulder in an attempt to slide off my strap.

I move now, flashing my eyes open and attempting to roll away. His hands react, grabbing me more quickly than I could’ve estimated, holding me in place. His weight pushes into his embrace to ensure I can’t slither from his grasp. I fight against him, wriggling with all I have as his hand reaches to cover my mouth just as I attempt to scream.

“Shhhhhhhh…. It’s gonna be ok,” he whispers, his rancid breath floating over me as I cough, struggling to breathe.

“Please stop! You’re hurting me! Don’t!” I shout into his palm. Tears sting my eyes from the fear I feel building within me.

One hand pins my arms uncomfortably against the concrete floor as I sob, pleading with him. My frail body shakes from the cold as he fumbles with his zipper. I squeeze my eyes shut to keep from seeing him hovering over me. Tears tumble down my cheeks freely as my begging falls on deaf ears.

The jingle of his belt buckle falling to the floor signifies the increased danger of what’s to come, and the pounding in my ribcage intensifies. I squirm, trying to throw him off balance, trying to get my hands away, trying, and failing, to save myself.

“Easy there, Baby Girl. I can make this feel real good.” He stumbles over the words, but the filthy meaning behind them oozes over my skin, making me feel unclean. I whimper, opening my eyes, only to see the carnal look in his as they slide down my body.

“Please. Don’t do this,” I plead, my voice wavering, glancing over his shoulder at the open door at his back. Freedom staring me in the face with no way to grasp it. My mind starts to put together a plan to get out of this. If only I can escape his hold.

His hand reaches for my knees which I’ve clenched together, squeezing my muscles with every bit of strength I have left. His palm lands on my kneecap while a vile sneer forms on his face. He loses balance momentarily as he attempts to wrench my thighs apart with a forceful tug, falling on top of me in the process.

“No!”

I’m snatched from the nightmare and thrown into the present, residual terror firmly flowing through my veins. Sweat lays in a light sheen over my skin like morning dew causing fallen strands of my dark brown hair to stick to my forehead. The air feels thick, as if my nightmare left a filmy residue on my body. I faintly hear the echo of my screams and smell the trace of cheap beer and unwashed man lightly floating on my memory. A smell that lingers like a stain unable to be washed away, tattooed in the darkest recesses of my mind.

I hadn’t had nightmares of my time with Carl and Beth Williams in years. I never wanted to relive the horrors I faced there, and it took years in therapy to push that time out of my subconscious. Carl was a drunk. He was a disgusting human being in every sense, and he enjoyed taking advantage of being a foster dad. I don’t know how many kids came through their home before me, but I’m glad no one else will ever have to.

I don’t know if it's the drugs Hudson gave me or the overwhelming lack of control I have in my life that’s been causing me to have all these damn nightmares, but I need to get a handle on my stress levels because this can’t be healthy having panic attack after panic attack.

Shaking my head to return to my current reality, my eyes scan the area as I try to establish my bearings. I’m still in the car, but it’s no longer moving, and Hudson is no longer inside. I’m alone.

Closing my eyes, I count backward from ten, deliberately taking slower, deeper lungfuls of air as I get closer to one. My breathing evens as I force myself to calm down.

When my heart rate evens and my muscles relax some, I open my eyes back up.

The brightly lit atmosphere gives the false impression of warmth when the temperature feels to be just above freezing. I run my hands over my arms in an attempt to fight off the chill that’s settled in me. The sun beams through the windows making my eyes squint involuntarily as I try to see where he has taken me.

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