Page 32 of Drowned In Silence

It’s not normal. At least for me it isn’t. It isn’t normal to feel that I have hit a complete one-eighty and now I don’t know the difference between up and down. Look what happened with my father. Everything was fine, then he came into the picture again, broke my body and my mind, and then I was going to jump.

Maybe that’s what happened. I jumped into that bridge and died… Or better yet, I jumped in and woke up in a different dimension.

I’m laying on the bed next to Elliot as he snores into my ear. This dimension is weird as shit.

Sitting up, I decide to take a hot shower. If this place is anything like it looks, there will be hot water for a while and I won’t be interrupted. I slide off the bed, trying not to make any noise or rough movements and tiptoe into the bathroom. There is a fresh white towel hanging up and I can’t help but to bring it to my nose and sniff.

It smells like clean linen in a summer breeze, nothing like the mildew smells I’m used to. Maybe I could get used to this place and not have to fear anymore.

I doubt it. Fear always finds a place to hide. Deep in a dark corner, under the bed, even within a soul that pretends to be nice.

I set the towel down and open the glass shower door. It has to be around three a.m. just because of how dark it is outside, but I don’t care. When you want a hot shower, anytime is good.

Turning the water on high, it instantly burns my skin, and I don’t think I will need a knife anymore. At least not while I’m here. I step into the scalding water, letting it flow over my porcelain skin, turning it red and splotchy. My head fallsback, allowing the water to fall down my face and onto my chest.

I don’t think I’ve ever had a shower this hot.

Staying in the water for more than thirty minutes, my body has turned bright red and I probably have a few blisters that are going to form. I don’t mind the pain. My pain tolerance is higher than the average person.

I curl into a ball on the shower floor, hugging my knees to my chest and letting the warm water coat my body in a blanket. It’s comforting. The pain, the silence, the empty thoughts the drain swallows.

“Dynah, what the fuck are you doing?” Elliot asks.

I didn’t notice the door open, didn’t notice he walked into the room, and didn’t notice that he was squating down, staring at me through the glass.

“Showering,” I reply dully.

“I see that, but why are you in a ball on the floor?” He stands up and opens the glass. “Fuck! Why is it so hot!” He turns off the water and grabs the white towel that I laid on the counter.

Elliot motions for me to get up and come to him. I do, almost robotically like it’s normal.

“Your skin is on fire, Little Raven. Why did you do this to yourself?”

I don’t answer him, letting him wrap me in the towel and taking me back to the bedroom. Once he sits me down, I curl up under the blanket, pulling it to my chest and closing my eyes.

“If you’re trying to kill yourself, then we will have to talk about different methods. Maybe Pen and I can take turns watching you.”

“I’m not trying to kill myself again. I was just–” I stopshort, knowing he is going to judge me I open my eyes and look directly at him.

“Just what?” He asks, getting on his knees next to the bed so he can see me face to face. His hand tucks a wet strand behind my ear, dripping onto my pillow.

“I just need to feel the pain, I guess. I needed to make sure this was real.”

Before responding, he tsks with his teeth and walks around the bed. He tosses the blanket away, and curls in behind me. His arm sneaks onto my hips over the towel, careful as to not touch my ribs, as he pulls me into his body.

“It’s real, Dynah. It’s all real. You. Me. The universe. You are the embodiment of every dark thought I’ve ever had, and I want to stay in the depths with you. Just let me in. Let me stay. Let me keep you.”

Trauma

Elliot

When I wake up,Dynah isn’t next to me. Again.

I about had a heart attack last night when I couldn’t touch her, then I opened my eyes and I couldn’t see her either. I roll over onto my back and take a few deep breaths before sitting up and getting dressed. Checking the bathroom, I make sure she isn’t trying to burn herself in the shower again.

I really need to keep a better eye on her. She is damaged and broken, and I feel like I have to walk on eggshells right now. It won’t be this way forever, just until she accepts that I am by her side now. For good.

“Dynah?” I ask, opening the bedroom door.

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