Page 30 of Sinful Scars

“I won’t be gentle. It’s not my style. And I won’t promise you’ll enjoy yourself…”

I try to kick out my legs, but I’m no match for his strength. There’s only one way I get out of this situation, but untilhegets here, I’m powerless.

Heshould be here by now.

Why isn’t he here yet?

“Stop!” I cry out as my panties are ripped off me.

I brace myself for the sound of the gunshot, the one that tells mehe’s finally here, that it’s finally over…

But it never comes.

It finally dawns on me thathe’s left me here.

He’s not coming to save me.

No one is.

“You can have a turn once I’m done with her,” my attacker laughs before undoing his belt buckle. “Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside you?—”

I sit boltupright in bed, my hand clutching my neck as I try to catch my breath.

My heart is racing so fast that I’m convinced it’s going to give out at any moment, which only makes me panic more.

I try to take a deep breath and hold it for a few seconds before breathing out, a trick I learned to help calm the anxiety, but no nightmare I’ve ever had felt soreal.

Tears drip down my chin and onto my comforter as the physical effects of the nightmare continue to linger.

Their laughter rings in my ears.

I rub at my wrists if only to remind myself that I’m free. There are no ropes tying me to a chair and no man is pinning me to my bed as he uses my body for pleasure against my will.

It was a nightmare.

It wasn’t real.

Hecame to save you.

From the way my body is shaking, it seems no amount of mental reassurance is going to help calm my nervous system.

I’m no stranger to nightmares, so I expected to experience some for a while after the kidnapping, but it’s been three weeks, and the nightmares are only getting worse.

With each night that passes, the nightmares get longer and longer, and I wake up even more terrified. It’s getting to the point where I’m scared to go to sleep because I know what waits for me once my eyes close.

I can’t help but feel like I’m being punished for being saved. As if I’ve somehow cheated fate and now I’m being forced to live through what should have happened.

“You’re okay,” I whisper out loud. “You’re safe. You’re in your own bed, in your own apartment.”

I wonder if the nightmares are a way for mysubconscious to pander to my insane fantasy that I have surrounding my anonymous hero.

Is it because I want to be close to him that I start off dreaming about that night in the hopes of reliving what it felt like to havehimsave me? To havehimhold me against his chest and whisper in my ear that it’s all going to be okay?

But instead of the dream ending with him taking me back to the cabin where he spends the rest of the night tending to my every need, I wake up in a cold sweat, my body trembling with fear as I try to fight off the nightmare.

I’ve had enough therapy to know that my body is yet to let go of the trauma of what happened, and the only way it will is if I truly work through the difficult emotions rather than obsessing over my mystery man.

At some point, the exhaustion from a lack of sleep will take its toll, and it’s not good for me to be so sleep deprived, especially considering how intense my job is.

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