What people didn’t seem to understand was that I couldn’t move on. It hurt to even try.What if Zeek was still out there, never to be found? If I knew he was dead, perhaps that would bring me peace. At least that way I’d know for sure and wouldn’t be left wondering every second of every day.
“Judah!” Nick hollered, pulling me from my thoughts.
Eyes wide, I looked up at him, his blond hair covering one eye slightly as he studied me.What did I do now?
“Go home,” he instructed, his smile sad and knowing. “I’ll handle the rest myself.”
“O–Okay,” my voice broke.God––why couldn’t I just act like everything wasn’t still falling apart around me? If only for a little while.
Before I could move, Nick’s arms wrapped around me in a tight embrace. My body froze, panic rising in my chest as my breath hitched in my throat. Thankfully, it only took him a second to understand the discomfort such a simple act had caused me. Releasing his hold, he bent down to meet my eyes. “Please––tell me what to do. I can’t stand seeing you like this anymore.”
What was there to do? Could I ask this man, my friend, that had stuck by me through everything, to kill me and end it all? No. And even if I could, I highly doubted he’d agree.
I simply shook my head knowing that if I spoke, I’d either puke or word vomit. And neither option was pretty.
Ezekiel
Growing more frustrated with these sleepless nights, I punched the pillow–not for the first time this evening–before flopping onto my back and staring up at the ceiling, the lone night light in the corner giving off just enough of a glow to keep the panic at bay.
I was completely exhausted, but I knew there was nothing that could grant me the peaceful slumber I so desperately craved. Hell, I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d slept more than an hour or two without waking from a nightmare. If I had to guess, it was well over four years ago.
The feeling of mayhem was still following me even after all this time. It was something I feared I’d never be able to shake.
I wish I could remember how it happened, but given my condition at the time, it was all just blank. All I could remember was waking up chained to a wall. Alone. Cold. And frightened to the core. I don’t remember exactly where I was when I was taken, or even how it happened. All I knew was that I had been taken and I wasn’t sure I’d ever escape.
Not alive, at least.
That feeling of being caged still clung far too close to the surface causing my skin to itch. My mind practically begged me to peel each layer off piece by piece until nothing remained.
According to Theo, I’d been missing for over two months. Ten weeks to be exact. Somehow, I’d managed to endure ten weeks of pure hell. Torture, mind games, and utter numbness––all of which still followed me everywhere I went. Who would have known that two fucking months out of an entire year could crawl at a snail pace like it did? I certainly didn’t.
When I asked Theo about the details he had discovered around my abduction, he was none too thrilled to fill me in, opting to divulge only some of the how’s and why’s. It wasn’t until I threatened to search out the answers on my own that I got me some of the answers I needed. It wasn’t nearly enough, not by a long shot, but it was just enough to tide me over and calm my need to know.
I had no clue what happened to the other survivors, and I couldn’t allow myself to worry about it. All I did know was that we’d all gone our separate ways. Which was to be expected since none of us knew each other. As for me, I came back home and jumped head-first into depression before eventually being forced into therapy.
To say that I took therapy seriously would be a gross overstatement.
I loathed each and every second of it. In the end I lasted less than three months before I called it quits. There was no way I was going to willingly to put myself through hell for a second time. Once was more than enough for an entire lifetime. But at least the first time hadn’t been by choice.
Depression ended up being my best friend; something I didn’t see changing anytime soon. I wasn’t to the point of actually trying to kill myself, but I wouldn’t willingly move out of the way if a car was about to hit me.
Glaring at the clock again, I watched in exhaustion as the minute hand ticked forward, signaling that it was now officially the next day.
Great. Fucking great.
With a huff, I pushed myself from the bed and padded towards the small deck, which was just big enough to host an oversized chair off to the one side. At one time, I thought about making an outside bed on the opposite side, but I knew that would take more effort than I had on any given day.
Plopping down on the wicker chair, I leaned my head back to look up at the night sky. The full moon stared back at me, casting a soft glow across the back yard. Yet another thing that needed more care than I was willing to give.
One of the things I liked most about this little house was that it sat far enough away from all human forms that I didn’t have to pretend to be someone I wasn’t. It was my space to do as I pleased. Don’t get me wrong, that didn’t stop me from occasionally wishing I had someone to keep me company. Especially late at night when I couldn’t sleep. Which, unfortunately, was most every night.
Maybe I should get a dog. That….I shook my head at the ridiculousness of my thoughts.Yeah, no. That would most definitely be a failure. I can’t even take care of myself half of the time.
I am better off on my own.
A slight breeze wafted through the treetops, peppering my skin with goosebumps. It was a simple reminder that I was still here, even when I didn’t want to be. I knew I needed to get more control over my thoughts if I was going to visit my parents. But for the moment, I didn’t give a flying fuck because my soul ached.
Who knew that one’s soul could hurt like this? No longer was I swimming in my internal turmoil. I was drowning in it. To some people, depression was just sadness. However, when it came to me, I didn’t even have that type of energy. I was just empty. There were no tears left and no hope for something better.
