"TK, before we go anywhere, I need you to know I found this." He hands me a very crinkled piece of paper and the moment I touch it, I already know it what it is.
"Where did you get it?" I ask, unfolding it delicately. My body buzzes, anger sparking at every nerve ending. Anticipation to finally read the last page of Seren's torn out journal entry.
"I found it on the path as I was following Alli back to the cabin. I can't be sure who it fell from, but I held onto it. I know you've been looking for it."
"Did you read it? I ask him, now questioning if I really even do want to know what it says, because I know deep down, I might already have an idea. I know deep down, it's going to make things final.
He shakes his head as he takes a step back, opening up the space between us to grant me the moment I might need to read it. But I carefully fold it back up and tuck it away. I need a clear head, and I know that reading that will only send me into a further frenzy than I already am right now.
But I have to know. So I open it back and read it, seeing that it starts exactly where the first page left off.
want to die. I want to end it all right now. My life doesn’t matter anyway. No one will take me seriously and I’drather get it over with than walk around not knowing who my other abusers are, than looking at the faces of those I know did this. And even if I could remember their faces, even if I heard their voices again and figured it out, would it even matter? They could say I made it all up. Because I’m a slut and I want attention. Because I’m a flirt. And I can’t even tell my best friend because how do I tell her that her brother betrayed me? How do I tell her that I loved him and I think he set me up. What if I’m wrong and then she hates me for putting him through that. But will she even believe me? Will anyone? So I might as well just fucking end it. That way maybe they can live with my death and I’ll never have to see their facesever again. Maybe it’s better that way.
Nausea fills my veins, but it's what I suspected. My sister wanted to die because of what was done to her. She went up there to end her life. and I failed her. “We need to find them,” I state, folding up the paper and pulling my gun from my waistband.
“Where do you think this leads?” Banks asks as we step into the narrow, amber-lit path. The walls look like cement or stone and about 2inches of water cover our feet. Once both of us are fully situated, the bookcase closes us in automatically.
“I know where it goes,” I declare as I lead us through the passageway. “We’re going to Olivia’s cabin.”
29
OLIVIA
"He brought us here so we could remember what he did to us." — Nancy Holbrook, A Nightmare on Elm Street (2010)
The blindfold digs into my skin, the burn of my tears sinks into the edges of the rough fabric as it chaffs against my cheeks. The same goes for the strip of tape keeping my mouth shut and the ropes tied at my wrists, bound behind my back.
My shoulders are in so much pain from being dragged by my arms, the feeling of mud and dirt and rocks and sticks scraping against my legs the further they’d taken me still lingers. I was thankful that Trace forced me to undress Natasha for her pants, but who would have known I would have needed them for this.
I try to fight, to thrash in the hold of whoever has me wrapped up. It all happened so fast. One second Trace was descending into the darkness, the next a hand was wrapped around my mouth with a knife pointed at my neck. Between the time they let go of my mouth and the time they masked the tape over me, I screamed and something knocked me in my head, causing me to pass out.
But now I’m awake, groggy but aware. Though I can’t see and I have no idea where I am as they push against me, using my bound hands to guide me up a set of stairs. I want to scream, my lungs tight as I try and slow my breaths in and out of my nose but my body pinches with anxiety, with fear and the undeniable reminder of my nightmares falls into my head.
I’m trapped. I’m going to die.
Though I hardly think that after all these years, those haunting dreams were meant to be a foreshadowing to this moment. I know they probably mean something more but right now, the feeling is so viscerally frightening that I feel as if this is one of my nightmares and now more than ever, I need Trace to pull me back.
I’m pushed through the door and the cold air turns to a little bit of warmth, concluding that I must be inside a cabin. I hear the door slam behind me before I’m pushed down onto the ground.
I can’t help but cry. I wish I could stay strong but without my sense, I’m pathetic in this situation. I try to calm myself as I listen for anything that might help me decipher where I’m at and who I’m with but all I can hear is the thud of boots across the wood floor followed by what I believe to be the scrape of a chair.
And then boots stalk closer to me and I feel panic consume me. Suddenly, I’m yanked up by my hair and thrown to sit in the chair. I feel a blade press against my skin, and I moan in agony, fearful for the tear of my skin I’m about to feel, but the knife cuts away from me, breaking the ropes free.
I immediately flail my arms, attempting to swing at whoever is doing this but I miss, hitting nothing but air. I cry and I attempt to scream behind my tapedup mouth but it just comes out breathless and empty, burning my lungs. And before I know it, my hands are pulled tight behind my back again, this time behind the chair, and the sound of duct tape cuts through the air, greeting me like little pricks of needles as it’s wrapped around and around my wrists.
I hear the boots thud away, the door opening and then closing and now the only thing I can hear is the deafening silence that shrouds me. Consuming me as I sit helpless in this chair.
The sound of my heart thuds against my chest, causing my ears to ring and my head to go slightly dizzy. I’m not breathing normally, racked with anxiety and unintentionally hyperventilating.
I squeeze my eyes shut behind the blindfold, feeling my tears try to escape but having nowhere to go. I’m hot and cold and my mind races a thousand miles a second and when I open my eyes back up, everything changes…
The cold breeze brushes against my skin. But my body is warm still, feeling the traces of kisses all over my body, of sensual touches caressing me with care, and the passion that bore down from amber-honey eyes into mine.
My heart beats with rapture, with so much love. His tender touches still linger on my skin, my body sore but in the best fucking way. I gave him one more piece ofme and now all that’s left is my heart. All of it. Without restriction, and to do that, I have to be honest with the one person I’ve been keeping this a secret from.
Seren.
After making love to Trace, I told him I wanted to tell everyone. I wanted to stop hiding and finally give him what he deserves out of me. He said he was going to go back to the cabins and pack our things while I agreed to go find his sister.
