Page 130 of Wreckage

I was not the same person who left here months ago, even though I was doing everything possible to reclaim that role. It was slowly killing me.

I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror anymore. Knowing that I’d consumed human flesh, that I’d used his body to survive, that I’d been lied to in order to do it, my choice was taken from me.

I sighed. Deep down, I knew I could have said no to the “food,” but I was told it was a fucking deer. I believed. I trusted. The way my blueeyes were hollow now, the way my body moved and felt, the way everything just felt so goddamn wrong with every breath.

It was overwhelming.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Dean. I couldn’t stop seeing him in my dreams. In my nightmares. I couldn’t stop feeling Troy’s hands on me as he touched and whispered sweet words to me. Or Adrian’s lips and the way he held me and pushed into my body.

Remembering the way their hot, muscular bodies felt pressed against mine, the way they could make me moan their names with just a breath, the way they made me finally feel loved and wanted. I had believed it all.

I had fallen so damn hard.

My therapist said it came from years of being ignored. Adding the trauma of the accident to it had been a recipe for all this turmoil I was feeling. Then the lies. Eating Dean. I thought they only let it happen because they’d always hated me. There was confusion at them saying they loved me. My therapist suggested it wasn’t their intent to hurt me, but trauma needs comfort, and I was what was familiar and available to them. It wasn’t love. It was human nature and would have happened with any woman they were stranded with.

I wasn’t special.

It was trauma.

FUCKING TRAUMA.

Did I believe that? I wasn’t sure. It felt real, but I was confused now that we were free. It was more of a me problem than athemproblem. I knew they were trying to reach out to me. Steve told me they were. I just couldn’t. I wasn’t in the right headspace to deal with it all yet.

I continued to see my therapist, but I honestly didn’t know why at this point. Her words always felt hollow, like she was going through the motions and regurgitating her DSM manual back at me.

I was going to cut ties with her, too. Pills and bullshit aside, I was done. The pills made me feel even more hollow, but they also put me in a daze that helped me cope easier. It didn’t stop my negative thoughts from intruding from time to time.

Was I the girl on the plane who survived, or was I the girl in my living room staring out my window into the busy city streets?

I didn’t know who I was anymore; that was where all my problems started.

Zara had been checking in constantly, but I barely spoke. I barely existed these days.

I just lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me. There was no way to escape the inevitability of everything.

I didn’t have the answers. Maybe I never would.

Zara came over again today.She had been pushing gently, waiting for me to divulge everything to her finally. Today seemed like the perfect day to do it. Everything was piling up, and I felt like I was losing my damn mind.

I stared into her eyes, my heart cracking all over again as we sat on my couch, eating pints of ice cream.

“I loved them,” I choked out. “Gave myself to them. I still love them, and it’s killing me inside. Knowing they lied about Dean.” I gave her a desperate look. She stared back at me with so much compassion and love on her face before I continued. “I would have died before I’d have-have eaten him.I’d have died.They took that choice from me. I-I did unspeakable things because of their lies. I-I would ha-have never…” My voice cracked, and that was it. I was done for.

She wrapped me in a tight embrace, rocking me as I sobbed.

“It’s OK. You’re loved, you know that, right? What happened out there doesn’t change who you are on the inside. You’re a good person. Dean knew you were. He loved you for being who you were. If you’re worried about what he thought, don’t be. You knew him, Elena. He’d have wanted you to survive by any means necessary. Don’t forget that.”

I shook against her, trying to log her words away so I could retrieve them later when I felt the guilt killing me.

“You didn’t kill him, babe. The crash did. You did nothing wrong,” she whispered. “You didn’t do a damn thing wrong. Please don’t thinkyou did. As for the guys, they wanted you to live. They did what they had to, just like you did. Don’t harbor anger, Elena. You’re too good for that. You’re loved. You’re so damn loved.”

I expected disgust from her. Judgement. But she just continued to hold me as I sobbed into her shoulder. Telling me I was still Elena. I was still me. I was a good person, and I was a survivor.

And for a moment, I almost believed her.

Then, she said the words that destroyed me all over again once I had my wits about me and had calmed.

“Troy and Adrian are coming back.”

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