“Um… underneath this.”
I don’t need to look over to see what he’s talking about. Their clinking is enough for me. The phantom touch of the bitter cold links tightening against my limbs as my father and his friends strap me to the bed wraps around my skin.
I’m not able to shake the feeling as I take the backpack and draw it up to my lap, an icy trickle dipping down my spine as I force the zipper open and stick my hand inside.
Disbelief runs through my veins as my fingers brush against the melted plastic of the polaroid camera. It takes a couple of tugs to get it out, seeing as it’s fused with the nylon fabric of the backpack, but once I do, I release a thankful sigh.
“It’s ruined… completely.”
I place the ruined camera to the side and dig my hands in deeper, feeling around the destroyed fabric of my clothes when my fingers touch the hard edge of film.
Adrenalin begins to bubble in my veins, sending fear traveling down the length of my body as I take hold of the pictures and pull them into the light.
Sobs crack my chest in two as I take in the perfectly intact images, blood filling my throat as I scream in anger, frustration, and heartache when I see not even a scratch on the surface of the photos.
Springing up from the floor, I rush out of the ruins, ignoring Roman as he calls my name because all I can see are these damn images!
“Amira!” he yells, jumping down from the raised slats.
“How?! How are these still fucking perfect!?” I shriek, throwing the pictures at his chest. Roman fumbles to catch them, each photo flying in a different direction as the wind blows across their glossy surface.
Raking my hands through my knotted hair, I force myself to intake air while glaring at Roman scavenging up the photos. The energy surrounding these woods comes crashing down onto me, or maybe it’s the prickle behind my ears of my demons rising that makes it hard to breathe.
“Why!?” I scream, slicing my nails down my neck until I feel blood running down my chest. “Why?! Why do they get to die and be free of this when I’m still here!? Still suffering from these images that won’t seem to fucking disappear!”
“Amira. Angel…”
“They didn’t even fucking burn, Roman! All these fucking trees, and my house! Everything came tumbling down! But not those! Why would they?! Right?! Why would the universe be so fucking kind to destroy pictures of me being bound, chained, ripped open, and fucking gang-raped!?” I roar, shooting my leg out to kick the side of Roman’s car, denting the polished black metal as my shoe collides over and over again.
“Amira! Would you stop and fucking listen to me, please?!”
I’m gonna getcha, girl!
No… no, no, no.
Hold her down!
Please don’t touch me! Get your hands off me!
Cry for me, you fucking slut.
Liam doesn’t deserve my tears.
You’ll never win, not when you lose so sweet.
I’m running before his voice can finish bouncing around my head, trampling over the dead earth as I run from the ghosts of my past.
I swing myself lower, dodging low-hanging branches and whipping leaves. My ankle yelps in pain every time I land on it, begging me to stop ripping its tendons and filaments. But I can’t, not when I hear footsteps pounding behind me.
They’re coming.
I knew they wouldn’t stay dead. Nothing ever truly does.
“Amira!”
They’re calling for me, ordering for me to stop so they can defile my body on the cold, hard ground.
I trip over a hidden hole, almost collapsing, but I keep myself upright, wheeling my arms by my side as I shoot forward.
