Page 44 of Burning Truths

He points to a closed door a few feet ahead where the smell is coming from. Passing the door I hold my breath and keep moving.

“Check it out. Do what you need, but I’m finding Kenna.” I toss over my shoulder.

G breaks away from us pulling out a knife from his belt loop to mess with the lock on the door. Coming up to the door with the light behind it I hear a slow steady thump against a wall. The sound is eerie and on beat.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Oakley pauses beside me, both of us now just outside the door. Her blue eyes shine in the darkness, the only feature I can see through the shadows. Inhaling a lung full of air I motion for her to continue. Reaching for the door she turns the knob inch by inch.

“It’s unlocked.” She says barely above a whisper.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three.

The door opens. The light blinds me momentarily, preventing me from seeing in front of me. An inhale.

Thump.

Thump.

My hand rests on the pistol’s trigger, unable to clear my vision. Once the white spots dissipates all the air in my lungs is pushed from my chest at the sight before me.

Chapter Nineteen

KENNA

Stuck in the in between space of sleep and consciousness my legs extend to stretch. They ache bone deep, my left more than the right, the skin too tight. I can still smell the remnants of his stale breath and sweat covering my skin. The sheets hold the stench of our sins in each thread of fabric. My stomach quivers with the emptiness but the thought of filling the void makes my mouth water with acid. Get up Kenna. Wash him off. My fingers slowly scrape down my arms pulling at the skin until it burns. Have you ever wanted to pull the flesh from your bones because the deep seated filth makes you feel like dying?

What did I do?

Tiny slivers of myself break off into shards that are too jagged to fit back into place. Parts of me are missing, gone, stolen from me.

This is my fault. I did this.

My hands grip at the roots of my hair and pull. Pulling and scratching trying to escape the person lying in this bed. I need to get up. The smells around me swirl through my nose burning the memories into my brain. Swallowing back the vomit that threatens to come up I roll over to see a small blue bowl filled with fruit. The overwhelming sweet smell wafts over to mecombining with the stench. My stomach gurgles bubbling with disgust for the food. Licking my lips my eyes roam around the room looking for a hint of time. Time has held no meaning in these four walls, locked inside a loop, trapped unable to move forward.

I start to pull in a deep breath but choke on his smell. Kicking the blankets off my core is sore and raw.

Hot shower.

Just roll off the bed. Get up. You can do this. We need to shower. Come on Kenna get out of the bed. I can’t move. Unable to lift the weighted blanket over my body I’m caged under the flashes of last night. With each blink I’m dragged back to the feel of him inside me.

I wanted this. I gave him control.

I have no tears left to fall. Instead I’m walking on glass cutting my skin on the shattered parts of me that I willingly smashed with my bare hands. How can I blame anyone but myself?

GET. UP.

Inching closer to the edge of the bed I grab my bare leg and drag it until it slips off the edge. Stiff shaky movements force me to sit up, the pressure on my chest threatens to pull me back under, the cold floor meets my feet. Breathe. In and out. Pressing my palms into the mattress I stand on weak limbs, my eyes falling closed to steady the dizziness. The horror behind my eyelids has them popping back open before I’m ready and I sway.

Pull it together.

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