She began to fear every sound since she had met him. With every step she looked over her shoulder. Fear of him kept her wary. Trying to run from the nightmare he put her through was all that mattered, but the pain of being away from half of your sou...
I've been in this room for days now. The bright white walls have become suffocating. I've spoken to a stream of doctors and nurses that are endlessly frustrating. Not to mention all the nonhuman annoyances that come with this place. Needles in my arm constantly itch, my urine is measured, and there is always a tech in the room. Privacy is a thing of the past. Not to mention the clothing. Never did I realize the grim reality if disposable panties. I'm getting out today at least. The only problem with that being the green-eyed man. He's still out there and what if he takes me again? Surely, he couldn't as he didn't even know my name but, the anxiety still haunts me. Who was he? What did he want? I don't understand how anyone could do such awful things to anyone. I feel oddly betrayed by him. I don't know who he was but, just the thought that he specifically did this to me breaks my heart. I have no connection to him and can't say I particularly care for him even now yet, I am deeply hurt. It's like I feel my heart implode when I think of it and it worsens when I remember his... Conquests. That weird pain still comes with the thoughts of his sexual endeavors. I blame all my feelings on some weird form of trauma or Stockholm syndrome. "Ms. Dianamph are you getting ready to leave?", I turn to the source of the voice. A man I don't recognize as any of the medical staff I have met stands in the doorway. He is oddly handsome though, not as much so as the green-eyed man; I think bitterly. "I'll be driving you home mam", he says answering my questioning look. I guess that makes sense. My car isn't here, and I am a little at odds with my family to say the least. "Oh yes thank you", I stand from my bed luckily already dressed in clothes from the gift shop. "I'm ready to go now sir", I smile at him, "if that's okay". He nods in confirmation. The discharge and ride home are uneventful. The only words spoken between us are for directions. I am lost in my own thoughts. I contemplate moving somewhere far away. A warmer place might be nice. Once we have reached my duplex, I smile at him. "What do I owe you sir?", he smiles back at me. "Nothing mam I have all I need", he replies. That was slightly ominous sounding. I guess my hospital bill covered it. I exit the car and wave a bit before turning away. I walk up my driveway and to my door. I don't hear him drive off until I open the door. It was nice of him to see I get in safely. It calms my nerves a bit. I lock the door behind me and walk down the stairs of my split-level home. I walk to my couch and plop down. I didn't realize how exhausted I was. I close my eyes and let sleep consume me. ... I wake with a start. Something woke me. I can't say it was a sound so much as a feeling. I scan the room warily. Nothing is out of place. I let out a sigh towards my anxiety. Panic haunts me even in slumber. Maybe I should consult one of my doctors about something to help me sleep. Still tired I lay back my head and close my eyes. I want nothing more than to slip away from consciousness yet, I feel a presence looming over me. I close my eyes tighter and ignore my traitorous imagination. I will not let paranoia take my rest even if it chooses to create bright green eyes staring down at me. I bid my breath to slow and my muscles to relax. Soon enough I find myself dreaming once again. Or at least that's what I tell myself when I feel warm, strong arms envelope me and sway as they carry me to my bed. I reason once again that I am dreaming when I feel the bed dip and a large body cuddle mine. I tell myself that I imagine a familiar voice whisper an apology into my hair followed by a gentle kiss being pressed into my forehead. This is nothing but, a confusing dream crossing comfort and horror. This just some weird stress related thing my subconscious created to help me cope with my conflicted emotions. All of this is a metaphor for my current struggles. The next morning there is no one tangled in the sheets beside me. Relief fills me. I was right, it was all a dream. I shower comfortably now finally in my home. I take that time to allow the hot water to undo the kinks in my muscles. When I exit the air is steamy and the mirror is fogged. I return to my room and allow myself to enjoy the feel of my sheets against my wet, nude flesh. After a few minutes I dress and walk down to my kitchen to make my breakfast with a renewed confidence. Then I see it. There on my table is a still hot plate of pancakes.
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