I move to my ensuite bathroom, flipping on the shower. Steam fills the room. I strip off and step into the scalding water, scrubbing my skin until it’s pink and raw.
When I’m done, I wrap myself in a towel and make my way back into my room.
I stop. A whine followed by scratching. I get up and open the door. Mum’s puppy, Diana, darts in and jumps on the bed, curling herself into a ball.
I lie down next to her, my hand going to her short coat. I rub her silky ears, watching as she rolls onto her back, showing me her belly.
“You want to sleep with me?”
She nuzzles my hand, scratching at the duvet. I lift it slightly only to have her burrow under it before curling herself into a tight ball, her eyes closing.
Zach and I never slept together here. Mum always put us in one of the guest rooms when we came to stay. Unlike Caleb and April, or Gabriel and Leah. Even Elijah and Pen have shared Eli’s childhood bedroom.
Did she have an inkling? Knew I would need this space?
I climb in next to her, and Diana moves into my body, curling herself around me, the warmth of her tiny body the comfort I need.
I take several deep shuddering breaths before closing my eyes and forcing the memories of the day away.
The early morningsun lights my way. My feet pound against the ground as I weave my way through the trees. I jump over fallen branches, careful to miss obscured roots. The last thing I need is to trip and break something. Running and running hard is my only escape from my thoughts, from the torment of the images plaguing last night’s dreams. For my brothers, it’s always been swimming, but for me, I need to run. It was still dark outside when I woke up, with my tense body bathed in sweat, my heart pounding.
The need to get out, to feel the air on my face, and the ground beneath my feet was almost too much, so here I am. In another month, this run will become treacherous as the fallen leaves will mask unseen dangers, but not today. Today I’m granted the solitude of the woods, a release only the peace and tranquillity of being at one with nature can offer.
Sweat temporarily blinds me, and I stumble forward, my hand grazing one of the tree trunks as I work to catch myself. The bite of the wood, therapeutic against my negative thoughts. I rub my eyes to clear my vision and push off. On and on—just an intense burn in my chest and heavy, quivering limbs.
My muscles begin to spasm.
How long have I been out here?
I reach out and grip the trunk of an old oak tree. I drop my head forward through outstretched arms, my breath coming in loud, noisy pants. I suck in air and wait. Wait for the ringing in my ears to subside, for my racing heartbeat to slow.
When my breathing finally calms, I turn around and drop back against the strength of the trunk, sinking to the ground among the carpet of dry leaves. Tipping my head back, I close my eyes, the heaviness of my limbs immense.
Fuck!
I smack the ground next to me with the flat of my hand. The bite causes my fingers to sink into the dry vegetation. I run my hands through it, allowing its dry, brittle texture to ground me. I open my eyes and stare up into the canopy of branches and leaves.
Our old treehouse, little more than a shell now, rests in the branches. I’ve run to the far corner of the estate. This was my safe space growing up, somewhere my overactive imagination could run wild. A place I could escape and be whoever I dreamed of being. Not simply a Frazer.
I shrug off my backpack and pull out a bottle of water. I take a long swig, allowing the liquid to quench my parched throat. One shuddering breath follows another. I swallow hard, trying to get my breathing under control. I twist to the side as a wave of nausea hits me. I wretch, but there’s nothing left. I haven’t eaten since yesterday lunchtime.
I sit up, banging my head back against the tree, before closing my eyes and shutting out the world.
Fuck you, Zach, and fuck you, Darra!
I draw my knees into my chest, wrapping my arms tightly around them before throwing back my head and screaming.
Like a madwoman, I let it all out in the sanctity of my safe place.
The birds in the trees take off, complaining at the noise, trying to escape the lunatic who’s invaded their space, the lunatic I’ve become.
When I’m finished, I suck in a breath, followed by another. I force myself to breathe in and out as I work to calm my racing thoughts. With each inhale, my strength returns.
I pull myself up, brushing off the leaves and dust. My now-cold muscles complain bitterly. As I stretch, I work on rebuilding my mental shields.
I growl at myself.
Kat Frazer, you appear to attract bastards like bees to a honey pot.
