Page 24 of Pieces of Halves

Keeping my sense of smell on high alert, I keep going down. The screams get louder, the smell stronger, and my heart beats faster. I don’t stop. What if there is someone who needs my help?

The space opens to a large open hall with thick doors running along it. The air warms drastically, and the evenly spaced-out lanterns create a soft light; it’s calming against the rocky walls.

A screech rings through my ears – loud, piercing through my brain. I jump and look around, dread filling my chest. A gasp and a moan follow, leaving me confused. Someone needs my help. Without thinking, I run to the closest door and push it open with all my might. The sight in front of me freezes my limbs on the spot.

A naked woman with her arms and legs spread out is tied to a post. Sweat drips down her body as she squirms with her head rolled back. My mind buzzing, I watch, unable to blink, move, or breathe. A man is on his knees, his face in her womanhood. One of his hands is reaching up, squeezing her breast, and the other one is holding her butt.

She is restrained, she needs to be freed. The terrified part of me wants to run and rip away the chains.

I inhale, my mind scrambling to find a way to help her. Then, the scent fills my lungs – delectable and sweet. Why does it smell so pleasant? My body shakes, but I can’t look away. She is tied and held down, gasping for air, yet it feels like she is enjoying it.

I feel sick. I don’t understand what is happening. My chest is heavy, my hands become cold, and my forehead sweats.

Memories. They will soon come to haunt and suffocate me.

“Shh. Come, child,” someone says from behind me and takes my hand.

The touch is soft and careful. I want to pull away and run, but my muscles loosen, and I feel groggy. Warmth soothes my mind, making everything feel okay.

I’m okay.The thought is prominent, forcing me to relax.

An older woman with curly black hair leads me somewhere. I don’t care. I am content following her. She guides me to a chair, a dark green dress flowing with her small frame. Following her instructions, I sit.

“There you go. Now inhale,” the woman says and sits across from me, her brown eyes shimmering against the flames of a candle. “You’re okay,” she whispers, holding my hands in hers. I blink, my body shivering. I should want to run away as far as possible, but she feels safe, so I simply stare. “They are not being hurt. Not in the way you think. They want this – need this. Some of them find healing like this,” the woman says, her gaze sympathetic.

My head jerks back at her words. How could anyoneneedsomething like that? To be tied and forced to scream while they have no way of escaping. The woman looks at me with a soft smile and tilts her head slightly. The way she watches me makes me feel as if she can see through me.

“You followed the smell. What was it?” she asks, her smile tender.

“I don’t know,” I croak out.

“Did you like it?” She waits for my answer patiently, her face kind. Swallowing, I nod. She lets go of my hands and leans back in the dainty chair with a satisfied smirk. “Arousal,” she says.

“I don’t understand,” I whisper, afraid that something has finally broken in my brain.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to understand if you don’t want to, but I can show you if you want.” She leans in again and cups both of my hands in hers.

She seems genuine, but I am deathly afraid of the memories. I haven’t had a nightmare since Jacob started holding me at night. What if she shows me awful things, and the monsters come back?

“I have memories…” I whisper, a lump forming in my throat. “Monsters…” I tell her, and my lower lip trembles.

Why am I telling her this?

“I know…fear grips your heart.” There is sympathy and understanding in her eyes.

Unable to hold back the tears, I sob and look away. The chair scrapes, and her arms wrap around my shoulders. She is smaller than me, but she squeezes me tightly into herself.

“Show me,” I mumble through a sob.

By all saints, I am so tired of being afraid. If there is a chance she can offer me something, I will take it.

I expect her to walk me somewhere into a room. Instead, she places her hand over my chest, letting me feel unexplainable things. The power of trust in bondage; how freeing it feels to simply let go. The way pain can be euphoric with a sense of safety. I can place my hurt into the hands of someone I trust, and that can chase away the lingering pain in my heart. She draws me a picture that is beautiful and freeing.

Trust. Safety. Bondage. Force… Arousal.

The concept is strange and confusing, but the woman in front of me organizes everything in my mind. It helps me breathe.

Opening my eyes, I blink and pinch my eyebrows. Who is this woman? Studying her, some pieces come together. She is a fairy. Those usually strictly stick together. Why is she here alone?

---