“Thanks for getting me out,” Bailey whispers, bringing the cup of tea to her lips. The sweet and bitter smell of brewed coffee and baked goods surrounds us. The quiet and relaxing atmosphere of the cafe makes it the best place to take Bailey for her first time in town.

“You don’t need to thank me, Bailey,” I say, just glad she came with me.

Shrugging, her focus drifts to the table as she picks at her food, not really eating it.

Tired and drained, I let my eyes wander the shop. Sitting at a table next to the window, I look out to the busy sidewalk. The movement of everything lulls me. After I got home last night I couldn’t sleep. My mind was running through every detail but not allowing me the whole picture… It’s exhausting. There are so many things I don’t understand.

Turning back to Bailey I watch her shift uncomfortably in her over-sized sweater. Deep, dark circles surround her eyes and her sunken in cheeks cause my stomach to tie in knots. She looks like she hasn’t slept in weeks, yet yesterday she had only been awake for maybe five hours. She isn’t eating and she has started withdrawing from everyone. Sides of her that I haven’t seen since being in the hospital have started to show. What if bringing her here was a mistake? What if she wasn’t ready?

“Have you talked to Doctor Hart?” I ask as casually as I can.

She shakes her head no and I swallow hard.

“Bailey,” I whisper, gaining her attention. “I’m worried about you.”

Looking away, she just stares out the window as she begins swaying back and forth in her seat, her fingers tearing away at her bagel.

Placing my hand over hers, I steady her movements. “Please talk to me,” I beg. “I feel like I’m losing you.” My chest aches as the words leave my mouth. On top of everything else going on, I can’t lose her too.

“Have you ever craved something you know you shouldn’t?” she asks, staring at our joined hands, her rocking slowing to small unnoticeable movements.

A familiar smell hits my senses as someone brushes past us. Alertness shoots through me, from her question or from something else I’m not sure, but the hairs on my neck stand and unease drips down my spine.

“Like what, Bailey? Drugs?” I choke out, my nerves getting the better of me.

“No, not drugs.” Removing her hands from mine, I pull back, watching her eyes glaze. “Sometimes I think it's worse than drugs”.

“What do you crave?” I whisper. The sinking feeling in my stomach intensifies making it hard to breath.

Shooting up from her seat she doesn’t answer, instead she runs. “I need to use the bathroom.”

Watching her go, the feeling of distress doesn’t leave with her, instead it grows stronger making my skin itch with awareness. Looking around I search for the cause but come up blank. Something is seriously wrong with me.

Placing my hand on my forehead I try to control my breathing. “Get yourself together,” I mumble to myself.

“Excuse me, ma’am.”

Jumping in my seat, my hand flies to my necklace as I meet the eyes of the girl who served us earlier.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Her smile shows her sincerity.

“That’s okay,” I mumble. I need to get a grip.

“You’re Emmalyn, right?” she asks.

“Yes.”

“A man left this for you,” she says, handing me an envelope.

Confused, I look at it, then back to her shaking my head. “What man?”

Shrugging, she gives a sheepish smile. “He didn’t leave his name. He just said he wanted to leave it as a surprise and that I had to wait until you were alone to give it to you.”

Taking the envelope, I thank her and watch her go. A cold sweat breaks out across my body as I stare at the package in my hand. Everything in me screams for me not to open it, warning me that everything will change if I do.

Even with my body heaving with fear, something stronger has me moving to open it… curiosity. Flipping it over, I swallow hard. My thumb sliding under the seal echoes like nails on a chalkboard. Turning it upside down, I let the contents spill into my hand.

My world stops.

I will never begin to fully understand how I knew something bad was going to happen, but I did. My body gave me signs before I even received the envelope. Intuition warned me that the moment my fingers touched what was inside, my road to recovery was going to be thrown in my face; that my slow and steady pace of remembering my past was going to hit the top of the rollercoaster and shoot down at a speed I wasn’t ready for. But I opened it anyway… I didn’t stop.

One after another I flip through the many images, my vision dotting with each one. Like a timeline, they show the life of a little girl, each one getting worse as she gets older. The first shows her young and terrified forced to pose naked in front of a camera. Another shows her on her knees with her head down, dark brown curls tumbling around her bare shoulders while blood falls from the lashes on her back. The last shows a young woman, her body unrecognizable as she lays unconscious on a medical table, black and blue bruises covering every inch of her naked body… its pure and utter horror.

It’s my past.

Feeling the physical burn from the images, I drop them to the table and cover my mouth as bile and screams threaten to claw their way out.

Memories so awful, so fucking consuming assault my mind like punches. Standing from my seat I barely hear the chair hit the floor and Bailey calling my name.

“Who are you, Emmalyn?”

“Whoever you want me to be, sir.”

“What are you, princess?”

“A slave.”

“That’s right, daughter. You will be the best slave ever to be sold.”

Looking at my surroundings, I search for the door but everything blurs. Oh God. Stumbling forward I lose my footing and fall, but before I hit the floor strong arms pick me up. As if I’m underwater, I hear shouts and screams. I hear Bailey’s cries and I hear a deep voice telling me to hang on, but it’s all so far away.

I can’t breathe. Black dots cloud my vision and I can feel myself going under. I can’t see. Endless pain shoots through my head as nightmares make memories in my mind.

I can’t…

Fresh air blows my hair back as I assume I’m getting carried outside. Trying to tilt my head, the face of the man from the bar blurs in my vision.

Opening my mouth, I go to say something but the snake around my throat coils tight and nothing but a cry comes out. Right now, at this very moment, nothing makes sense. Reality wars with memories and memories war with my sanity. My world feels like it’s shattering and in the midst of this panic attack I feel like I’m dying. I vaguely register the familiar sound of rumbling getting louder.

“What the fuck happened?”

“Where the fuck is he?”

“What is fucking wrong with her?”

Several voices shout and argue around me, each one blending into the other until one stands out above the rest.

“Emmy!”

Oh God… His voice talks straight to my soul. He’s here.

“Give her to me.” I hear him growl, but my vision refuses to let me see him, to make sure he is really here.

Feeling my body shift, the voices continue. “Don’t you fucking think about it.”

Drifter?

“If you value your fucking life you will back the hell up and stay the fuck away from us right now.” The menace in the familiar voice causes me to flinch as I cling to him for dear life.

“Breathe, baby, fucking breathe,” he soothes in my ear as we move away from all the noise.

The only sound that comes from me is a pitiful cry.

Feeling him shift and lower himself, I scramble in his lap. “I’m not letting you go,” he assures me. Wrapping his arms tightly around me, he shifts so my knees rest on either side of his and he cages me to his body.

The comfort of his strong arms cause the grip on my throat to lesson and I take several long deep breaths. With my sight still hazy, I blink a couple of times letting the alley come into view. With my head on his chest, I let the sound of his steady breathing calm my racing pulse and everything fades to nothing.

“I’m done, baby. I can’t fucking do it anymore,” he says in a mantra. “I’m who makes shit better, I’m who knows your heart and soul, I’m who you fucking need, baby.” The sureness in his voice and the rawness in his words lull me as he rocks me to the beat of his heart.

As the panic attack drifts, my body begins trembling from the internal exertion.

“That’s it, Emmy, just breathe,” he continues.

Calming numbness washes over me as I sit securely in my stranger’s lap. I have never felt safer. “Don’t leave me,” I plea. My whisper against his chest shaky and barely audible.

“Never,” he answers. The sureness in his voice forces me to lift my head, the movement sluggish and slow. Pulling back, he lets me go. Looking at him I am almost hit with disappointment at seeing his hood pulled down.

Glancing around I soak in our surroundings. My eyes seeing vivid colors in the shadowed alley let me know I’m still not okay, I’m still in a state of panic… a state of shock. Nothing seems real, even though I know it is. My mind has completely shut down and my body is warning me that it’s not too far behind. Moving in an almost dream like trance, I bring my attention back to his.

“What are you thinking, Emmy?” he asks, seeing my eyes but not letting me see his.

“Nothing,” I answer back, my voice not sounding like my own.

Watching his throat work as he swallows hard, my eyes trail up landing on his full lips and like being pushed, I lean forward.

“What are you doing?” he murmurs, his voice much lower, much quieter than before.

“I don’t know,” I whisper. Maybe this really is a dream.

Shifting closer our chests nearly meet. On a quick inhale I breathe him in, my eyes falling shut at the smell of him.

Holding me still, his hands shoot to my waist and my eyes snap back open, my lids heavy with exhaustion. My body and mind won’t last much longer, everything needing to shut down, needing to repair the damage that has been done…the knowledge that has been learned.

“Emmy,” he hushes out as the line between reality and fantasy blurs.

I want to see his eyes. Not in control of my actions, my arm lifts and my hands shake.

“What are you doing, baby?” he repeats in a whisper, but I can’t answer. I can’t think. I can only feel.

Placing my hands on his cheeks I slowly move them back, his hood following the movement, revealing more of his beautiful face. My ears pound with the sound of my heart with the more I uncover. Inch by inch I pull his hood back, my fingers tangling in his hair until the only thing remaining are his eyes.

Pausing, I just sit there. Both of us are breathing heavy, both of us know there is no going back from this. Admiring his defined cheekbones and slightly crooked nose, I take one last deep breath before pulling the hood back all the way.

With his face in full view I sit with my heart in my throat as I wait for him to meet my eyes. Chest heaving, he doesn’t move, his eyes stay downcast, his dark full lashes fan his cheeks.

“Look at me,” I beg, my voice sounding so far away.

Life slows down as I watch his lids slowly lift, letting his eyes come completely into view.

We all have these moments in life. Moments where we have to make the ultimate decision. To jump or not to jump. To live or not to live. To follow your head or your heart.

I jump. I live. I follow my heart. And I fall…

Taking one last breath before everything goes dark, I hear myself whisper,

“No.”