ANOTHER NIGHTMARE. ANOTHER step back. Another painful look I’ve caused on Brad’s face. I curl myself into a ball and sit with the power of the water beating against my head. I hate this. I hate feeling like this. I hate hurting Brad, but I hate the feelings he brings about in me. Dirty feelings that bring bile up into my throat.
But I can’t deny the emotions I feel when I’m around him. I don’t know what I want anymore. I don’t understand this life anymore. The night I was taken comes back into my mind—invading, unwanted. It runs through my mind like I’m seeing it from above. Like the girl in the room being beaten and raped isn’t me. Like I’m watching it happen to someone else. But it’s not. I relive every fist, every foot that lands a kick—the pain evident in every scream and moan that slips from my mouth as every dry thrust they impart takes my dignity. My pride. My life. I watch as they take their turn, jeering each other on—to go harder, deeper. Encouraging each other to take my arse, my mouth, and forcing themselves upon me in the worst possible way.
I had only experienced sex for the first time right before that night. With a random guy, I met in the club. Everyone went on and on about how amazing sex was, and I played along. I’d never had the time or inclination, but I got drunk and thought what the hell. It wasn’t anything like people had explained it to be. There were no shooting stars behind my eyes or an amazing feeling that happened only when you orgasmed. No, all I felt was pain and uncomfortableness. I sobered up pretty quickly after that and spent the rest of the time lying there with his arm thrown across me, regretting it all.
I cried that night a lot. I thought I had given away my virginity on a whim and should have saved it for someone special like I had always promised myself I would. Well, now I know it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. What was the point being good all those years? Telling myself over and over that I needed to better myself my life, and not be a victim—a child in care.
I wanted more from life. But life obviously didn’t want that for me. I must have really been an asshole in a past life because I’ve never had anything worth a damn and never had anyone to care for me and love me. I just existed, coasting through life, and trying hard to make it better—easier on myself. I did that. And what good did it do me? Here I am. A victim. An addict. No better off than the day I was born. What was it all for?
I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting in the shower, but the water starts to run cold, so I get up and get out of the water. I turn it off and reach for a towel. As I do, there’s a knock on the door. Not a loud knock, just a small rap of knuckles on the wood. I wait another beat of a second and just as I’m about to ask who it is. Brad speaks, ‘Maiya?’
My breath hitches at the pained way he says my name, and I can’t answer. He knocks harder. ‘Maiya?’ When I don’t answer, he turns the handle and walks in with wide eyes. He exhales in relief when he sees me standing in a towel. His eyes close in what must be the pain he’s feeling. I know because I feel it too. My stomach flutters at the sight of him but right after that follows the feeling that I’m dirty. And I close my eyes against it as bile rises again. How can I want to be with him and at the same time the thought alone makes my body react this way?
‘I need to go,’ he tells me, making my eyes widen in shock.
‘Why? Where...?’
‘It’s time were heading over to the kitsune place. Listen… there are some vials and a needle over by the bed. They won’t be good for more than a few hours, but I have some in the fridge too—’
‘Why? Aren’t you coming back here? Why?’ I can feel my heart racing at that possibility, and I start to panic. ‘I don’t want you to leave me,’ I state selfishly.
‘I’ve left enough blood in the fridge downstairs for the next few days at least, just in case—’
‘In case what??’
‘If anything happens while I’m gone then it gives you enough time to find another donor.’
I shake my head in disbelief. ‘I don’t want another donor,’ I tell him. ‘I don’t want you to go.’ He inhales and then sighs. ‘This is the reason we’re here, and I don’t want to wait any longer than we already have. We need to get back home, and we can’t do that until these bastards are in the ground.’ Yes, I want that. I really do want that. But what if he doesn’t come back?
‘What if you don’t come back?’
He licks his lips and inhales deeply before he comes over and presses his lips to my forehead. And he strokes my wet hair down and then behind my ear.
‘I will try my hardest to come back in one piece, okay?’
‘No, not okay! You can’t go, Brad please…’
‘Sweetheart, it’s not up for negotiation. I’m leaving in ten minutes. You have enough blood—’
I look at him like he’s just slapped my face. Is that what he thinks this is about? I shake my head and look at my feet. I have to suck it up. I have to let him go and do this—this is what they do. It’s just new to me. I don’t have to like it. But I have to accept it. I nod my head and turn away from him. It’s all I can manage. I don’t want to say goodbye. I refuse to. He will be back in no time at all. He will. He has to. I hear the door close and realise he’s gone, and I’m alone again.