A week before my heart would be ripped from my chest and left to dangle in the wind.
A week before I would sleep on a cold floor in a dark room.
A week before I would experience hunger.
A week before I’d have my innocence taken from me.
A week before I’d be beaten until I’d passed out.
A week before time would seem to stand still, yet race by.
A week before I would become terrified of the dark.
A week before I would experience how horrific the feeling of drowning was.
A week before my life would no longer be mine.
Everything was blurry. I felt like a massive weight was sitting on my chest. I was holding myself so tight because I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want James to detect a difference in my breathing, but I knew he did.
“Brandon,” he began.
His caring and kind voice made me fall apart.Why can’t I keep shit together? I’m not a baby! Why do I fucking cry so much?I quickly turned my head away from James and pulled the neck of my t-shirt up to wipe my eyes.
“I’m sorry. I hadn’t expected this to be emotional. I’m sorry.”
“Brandon, it’s okay.”
I let James pull me against him. Everything felt better in his arms. I kept the side of my face buried against his chest while I scrolled through my pictures. Each time I passed one with Eli, all I could see in my mind was him walking out of Sebastian’s place and leaving me. My chest ached with a pain that I didn’t know if it would ever go away.
“Brandon, pup, this is clearly upsetting you.”
“I’m not a baby!”
“I didn’t say that you were. Your reactions to seeing the life you once led are normal.”
I tossed my phone on the couch and pushed myself out of James’ arms. I stood and clasped my hands behind my head and paced a few feet in front of him. I couldn’t shake the visual of Eli leaving me, and I was overcome with so much anger.
“Normal? Is that some psychology babble? Nothing about me is normal anymore!” I yelled.
“Brandon,” James said as he stood up.
As he walked toward me, I lost it. I lost control of what I had been holding onto since coming out of that hellhole.
“I was sold!” I yelled.
I took hold of the hem on my t-shirt to try to stop the shaking from being so obvious. Seconds may have passed before I was in James’ arms again, resting my cheek on his shoulder. The tears fell uncontrollably. As much as I needed to get a grip, it didn’t seem possible right then.
“I was sold like a knick-knack to a fucking collector,” I sobbed.
“Brandon,” James soothed.
He held my head against his shoulder and splayed his other hand on my upper back while we swayed side to side.
“I was sold,” I mumbled again.
“I suspected that was the case.” James kissed the top of my head and pressed my back, pulling me against him more. “I wanted to be wrong about this, Brandon. I wanted there to be truth to what you had said about going to the party with a friend.”
“I’m sorry that I lied about that. I was just… I don’t know.”
