Why won’t he just leave? Laying with my eyes closed I pretend to be asleep and even out my breathing so it appears right. I’m not sure how long I’ve been home now. The seconds tick into minutes that tick into hours that tick into days, all blending together with no distinction. It’s weird how wounds can heal on the outside, but on the inside, everything is still so raw and cut open like everything happened just yesterday. Add all the memories and it’s a dangerous concoction.

The flashes hit me all the time. When I walk to the refrigerator, when I lay in bed, when I move to the couch—hell, when I breathe. The pains from the knife slicing me still come out of nowhere and I feel as if my flesh is getting torn open once again.

The only consistent thing is Green. I want to feel elated that he’s here with me. I want to feel like my heart is leaping out of my chest. I want to feel the passion I felt in the kiss he gave me once upon a time, but now… now there will be none of that.

There will be no more letters.

There will be no more phone calls.

There will be no more meet-ups.

There will be no more rides on the back of his bike.

There will be no more of anything.

There’s nothing that I can give him any more, and he’s wasting his time here helping me when I won’t ever be able to return anything to him. He deserves so much more. And me, I’m not it. My body is defiled. My thoughts are corrupted. The dirt and grime on me will never go away—ever. No matter how many times I try to clean myself with soap and water, it doesn’t help because I still feel disgusting.

All I want to do is curl into a ball and forget life exists.

“Made ya some eggs and toast. Come eat,” Green says from the kitchen where I’ve listened to him milling around for a while now—me, lost in my thoughts. When I don’t move quick enough for him, he comes over to the couch and reaches out his hand. I want more than anything to take it and have him wipe everything away, but I’m not stupid and know he can’t. There isn’t a single thing on this planet that can erase what has happened to me.

The fool I am, my hand reaches out to his and he leads me over to my small table then piles up food on two different plates. My stomach takes that moment to growl and if it weren’t for Green, I would have starved… to death. I pause at that thought.

Death.

I prayed for it and thought the end was coming all those weeks ago. Prayed that the pain would go away and sleep would overtake me never to wake up again. Yet, here I am—but not here in the same breath. The trouble is I don’t know what to do right now, besides hide.

It’s a vicious reel that just won’t stop playing in my mind or on my body, and I don’t know what to do, but Green—he won’t leave. He needs to because he’s wasting his time with me. Even in my state, I know that much.

“Your family must miss you.”

His fork stops midway into his mouth, penetrating eyes coming to me. “Yeah, they do, but that doesn’t mean I’m leavin’.”

Brushing a napkin over my lips, I push deeper, “Why? Why are you staying here?”

“Baby, because you need me.”

A fire resonates deep in my belly, spreading like shattered glass and splintering out in every direction. Need him. I never needed anyone, ever. Yes, I love Bristyl, but I never needed her. I wanted her around—there’s a huge difference. For him to say I need him, no—screw that.

My lips want to move and tell him what I think. Tell him that I don’t need him that I’ll do just fine on my own. That he doesn’t need to stay and babysit me. I’m not his duty or responsibility.

But as quick as the thoughts come, others intrude, pushing their way to the forefront wanting to be noticed—no, demanding to be the center of attention, punching the fire out to a soft smoke.

Instead of answering, I pick up my fork and begin to eat again without a word.

* * *

A knock comes to the door pulling me away from staring at the television, even though I have no idea what we’ve been watching or how long I’ve been sitting in this spot.

Green holds out his hand to stop me. “Oh no, don’t you get up. I’ll get it,” he jokes, and I can feel my lips tip up for the first time since it happened, but quickly I brush it away. It feels wrong to smile, but I don’t really know why. Everything seems wrong so I guess that’s the biggest problem.

Watching his movements, my heart picks up as he opens the door. That fear just won’t go away even with him here, protecting me—it’s still there, burning below the surface.

“Hey, brother,” Green says, slapping the back of Jacks as he comes into my place. It’s strange because even though I’ve only met him once, I don’t fear him like I did those other guys. No, instead, I breathe in and out deep, cleansing the fear out of my system, or at least attempting.

The door closes. “I’ve gotta head back up to Sumner.”

“Somethin’ wrong?” Green asks.

“Nah, just want to get back and check on my baby sister. I think she has a new boyfriend that I have to kill.”

Green chuckles, “You have fun with that.”

Jacks looks over at me, concern dancing in his eyes. “How ya doin’?” he says so softly as he comes and sits by me on the couch, and I try really hard to hide my flinch.

“Good.”

“Don’t lie to the man,” Green says, coming to me. He picks me up, sits down, and sets me on his lap. I should fight it. I should tell him to take a long walk off a short pier; instead, I gather in his warmth. “She’s havin’ nightmares. Eatin’ okay but won’t wear anything other than long sleeves and pants. It’s fuckin’ Florida and hotter than hell.”

Lifting my head up, I feel as if I’m glaring at him, but I’m not sure. It seems foreign—this feeling starting inside if me. Instead of the words tumbling out of my mouth, I lay back down as Green takes a huge deep breath like he’s disappointed and wraps his arms around my small body.

“Don’t let those fuckers ruin your life,” Jacks says.

Suddenly I find my voice, surprising myself in the process. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Maybe you need to talk about it,” Green says behind me. I dash up out of his arms, feeling my skin twisting with the movements around the cuts that are healing, all the while the slime those assholes left on me sticks to me everywhere.

“No, that’s one thing we won’t talk about.” Wrapping my arms around myself, I absently begin to pace the living room, shaking my head as I do. Talking about it makes it more real, and I’ve already lived through it; I don’t need to relive it. I don’t want to think about it or dream it or anything with it. If there was some magic pill I could find to erase it, I would. Except that isn’t an option for me. I don’t live in Harry Potter world where a spell can change me into someone or something I’m not.

I hear Green heave of breath before he says, “Yeah, we need to.”

“On that note, I’m outta here,” Jacks says, and before I can blink he’s gone, leaving Green and me in the room. Me pacing, him staring at me from the couch. I don’t want to hear what he has to say. I don’t want to think about it on my own; the nightmares and images are too much for me to handle. No. no. no.

“Green, I’m tired. I’m going to lay down.”

Making my way over to the bed, Green rises and blocks my way, itching up my anxiety. Not from him, but the topic I know he won’t let go. “Baby, we need to get this out. Keepin’ all this shit bottled up inside you, does no one any good.”

“Don’t.”

His hands come to my face, mine go to his wrists. His face is so close to mine and I inhale him, sucking in his comfort. “You need to talk about it,” he whispers.

“I can’t,” I squeeze out with all of my strength, which let’s be honest isn’t much.

Something flashes in his eyes. It’s not just one emotion—it’s several, and he seems to be at war with himself.

I push, “I’ll never talk about it.”

Regret fills me as soon as those words slip out, because the look in his eyes turns into determination. One thing I’ve learned about Green is never give him a challenge. Never throw down a gauntlet of any type because he’ll fight back. We went back and forth over stupid things over the phone, and he wouldn’t give up. He was relentless, and what did I do? Put a red cape on and go in with a bull. Shit.

I try to speak but am stopped by him. “You will talk about this. I’m gonna push this, Leah, and you’re gonna fuckin’ hate me for it, but I’m okay with that if it helps you in the end.”

A tear fills my eyes, but not to play Green into not making me talk; no, the tears are from the pain—from the memories swirling around my head. I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to replay all of it again. My head begins shaking back and forth as nerves spark everywhere.

“Please,” I whisper and see a crack in Green’s demeanor for a moment only for his determination to return and seal that crack back together.

“When I found you, you were tied to a bed by your hands and feet.” I rip my hands away from him, wrap my arm around my waist and plop the nail of my thumb in my mouth as it all comes rushing back more vivid than the dreams. It’s almost as if I’m above looking down at what is happening to me. I can see the pain. I can see the defeat. I can see them… him.

“You had blood everywhere, Leah. It was coming out of your body so fast, I had no idea what to do to stop it all from leaving you. No one place I touched helped the other.”

Tears fall as my paces quickens, like if I move just a little bit faster this will all go away. He’ll stop talking and I can go back into my hole where I need to be. If I keep walking then I can’t talk because no person can walk and talk at the same time, right? If I keep walking all the memories will evaporate into nothing, leaving me alone. This entire conversation will end.

“Your cuts were deep, marring in so many places there wasn’t just one wound for me to stop. Black and blue,” his voice whispers, and a chill runs up my spine. “Your entire body from head to toe was black, blue or red. Your eyes were swollen shut.”

I grip my head in my hands careful not to touch my hair because it still aches. “Stop. Please just stop.” My legs are on a marathon moving so fast my toes don’t take time to dig into the carpet. If my place were bigger there wouldn’t be so many turns screwing me up.

“No,” he says softly. “I carried you out of that room, and you kept losing consciousness. When the EMT got there…”

“Stop!” I yell with everything I have in me, but he doesn’t listen.

“I had to hold gauze to some of your wounds to staunch the bleeding. I could feel your blood on my fingers, and I could do nothing to stop it.”

My mind snaps and waves of something flow through my veins. Instead of pacing, I charge Green and shove my hands into his chest hard. “You don’t think I know what they did to me!”

I hit him again, but he doesn’t move or fight back.

“I was there. Every damn second, only getting the slightest reprieve when the darkness filled my head.” I hit him again, but he doesn’t budge. “And you want me to talk about it! You’ve lost your mind!”

An emotion I haven’t felt in a while spins its web, boiling my blood, staggering my breaths and my fingers twitch. Anger. No, rage like no other fills me, clawing out of my body and pursing itself in the air around us.

“Tell me!” Green fires back at me still allowing me to hit him, but I don’t care. I don’t care about anything, all I see is red. Fire-breathing dragon red.

“What do you want to hear? How they attacked me in the kitchen of the place where I was supposed to feel safe. That they thought it was fun to punch me and hear my cries. How they dragged me up the stairs by my hair and feet, hitting my back with every step. How they wrapped rope around my wrists and ankles so tight I barely felt them after a while. Do you want to know that they took turns stabbing me with the blade over and over again until my crying became too much, and they’d punch me in the jaw to get me to shut up. Oh, but that’s not all.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I step far away from Green. “The best part is when they ripped my hair from my skull so I’d bring Bristyl to him.” Then my flame-breathing self looks Green directly in the eye. “And you idiots let her come alone!!!”

Releasing my arms, I clench and unclench my fingers not knowing exactly what to do with them at the moment. I should go back over there and hit him some more, but I don’t.

“You’re right. She shoulda never been there alone.”

My brows pinch as I burst, “Ya think! That’s all those assholes wanted was Bristyl! And I got stuck as the runner-up, lucky me!” My screams can probably be heard down the street, but I don’t care one little bit. No one came when I was tied up, hurt, and screaming. No one would come now either.

Green walks into my path forcing me to have to look up at him. “What they did to you was reprehensible, Leah.”

“Why do I note a but in there.”

Green smiles, full out, and I’m tempted to smack it off his face.

“But…” he drawls out like it’ll help his cause. He gently grasps my arms and pulls me to him. “You’re alive, Leah. You lived. Those fuckers didn’t.”

Alive. Yeah, right. This isn’t alive. This isn’t living. This is a perpetual hell I can’t seem to escape, swirling me down deeper and deeper. I feel like Alice falling down the rabbit hole, turning and twisting hitting my head all the way down, only to realize there is no bottom. It just keeps going on forever and forever. I’m freefalling. And I hate it.

“It happened to me!” I point to my chest. “Me. Not you, so I don’t need to hear your shit, nor do I want to. You have no idea what I’m going through!”

“I do, more than you know.” He looks down to the ground and back up. “You wanna get pissed and hit me, go for it. You wanna throw shit, I’ll pick it up. You wanna scream and yell, I’ll take it, but you’re gettin’ this shit out of ya one way or another.”

He’s too damn calm, and it’s pissing me off. “Why are you so calm? Knock it off!” I’m not sure what I want from him, but calm isn’t it. It’s irritating and annoying—hell, those mean the same thing. Breaking away I move, but he doesn’t let me get far. The thoughts bombard me, but the anger is in the forefront, and anger I can deal with. The other shit, not so much.

“How did you feel?”

“Are you serious right now? You’re asking me how I feel! I just told you what happened!” I stand at the door pressing my hands to it, looking at the floor, my breathing ragged. I flip to him. “Dirty! That make you happy? I’m dirty, disgusting, and nothing will ever get it off of my skin, and I’m not talking about the hundreds of scars on my body. It would have been better if they just killed me and got it over with!”

He comes to me trying to wrap me in his arms, but I scoot away getting a foot from him. “I want you to leave. Now.” It’s a demand and not a weak one like before.

“No.” God, I hate his calm. When we used to write letters, it was the one thing I could count on with him. The fact that he could turn any hesitations I had and flip them around, finding the positive or the solace I didn’t see there. Now, it just pisses me off.

The twig breaks in me, and my hands go flying and connect with Green’s chest. My screams come out so hoarse I’m not sure that they’re mine, but everything comes pouring out of me—the rage, hurt, desperation, fear, horror… all of it comes out, bleeding through my poors. Nothing is coherent, and my mind is so jumbled even I don’t know what I’m thinking. All I know is this feels. Like what, I’m not sure–but if feels.

After exhausting myself after long minutes, I make a step back, my breaths coming so hot and heavy I could pass out. That’s when the tears hit, but I hold on to that anger with every fiber inside of myself because I need time away from him. Time to burrow down deeper and escape. “Out or I’m calling the police and my parents to have you removed.”

“I’m not going.” Damn him.

“Leave!” I scream, but it’s out of pain. I feel myself falling to my knees hard on the floor as sobs rake my body, one after the other, and I ignore the sharp pain up my thighs.

How does life go on after something like this?