Sexual Stalker

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Reflection in the Mirror

Annabell POV

Hot!

Hot burning!

Hot burning excruciating!

Hot burning excruciating mind- consuming!

Would this damn well stop?

Why am I drowning in this darkness?

I can't come up for air?

Unconsciousness consumes me; and I can't find the surface.

"Why isn't she waking up?" A wonderful, concerned female voice reverberates through the confinements of my skull.

"It won't be long Mrs Tryst, the doctor said she had a concussion and other injuries that need to heal.

Annabell is doing great!" A smooth, male voice interrupts.

My mum is here!

My dear mother, by my side while I heal and recover.

That's when the events hit me!

Jason!

Jason Collier!

I remember the way he hurt me.

The way he abused me.

Before I have a chance to grasp it, or reign it in, I sit upright, my eyes pop open and I scream.. A blood curdling, pain filled, heartbroken screen.

"Annabell!"

"Nannie!"

"Sweetheart?"

"Annabell!?"

"ANNABELL LOOK AT ME!" A commanding voice snaps me out, as a set of smooth, warm hands clasp my face and force me round to look into a set of beautiful coffee brown eyes; calming, smooth eyes that hold me captive and ease my panic.

"Annabell.. Baby, calm. Calm ok? Look at me and a breathe." He murmurs gently, bringing my heart rate back down to normal, "everything is fine now. Jason is gone. We are safe."

Despite Avan's kind, loving words, my limbs still convulse in panic, pain ransacking my body.

Tears stream down my face as flashbacks consume my thoughts; a giant lump grows in my throat and I vomit on the floor beside my bed.

His words repeat over and over in my brain, clouding every other thought and feeling.

"Oh Annabell.. Damn you're tight!"

My tears turn to sobs, and I curl up on my side away from Avan, away from those probing eyes of his, away from the memories of being abused and raped.

Away from Jason's offspring.

I feel the presence of the man who was my saviour.. Who had come to mean so much to me in such a stupidly short amount of time, but I just can't differentiate him from his father.

"He's gone?" I whisper.

"Yes, he died. He was shot when the police rescued you." Avan replies, full of honesty.

He's dead?

Jason is dead?

Jason Collier will never come back?

Am I safe?

Isn't Avan just as bad in some ways?

He gets off on beating women!

I understand Avan's fetish is a product of his uncaring parents and his destructive upbringing, but he now inflicts pain and humiliation on vulnerable women, who are in turn, as psychologically messed up and in need of love and security; not severe pain and harsh punishment.

He is basically behaving exactly like his undeserving parents, without even realising it.

Two dead parents..

Oh crap.

Here I am, blaming him for all this, wallowing in my self pity and suffering, when Avan no longer has a living parent!

Is he completely alone?

Does he have siblings?

Or relatives?

"I'm sorry." I manage to choke out.

The look Avan surprises me with isn't one of hurt or pain, but one of confusion.

"For what? What could you have possibly done to warrant giving me an apology?" He asks gently, wiping a lone tear from my cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"Your dad.. He's gone. I'm so sorry.." I stutter, nervously; hoping I don't offend him, "do you have any relatives? Siblings?"

Avan shakes his head with a face of regret, "nope. All my relatives are gone. I'm the last one of the Collier clan. If I don't continue the blood line, it dies with me."

Holy fuck!

Is Avan considering becoming a father in the future?

Or is it his way of saying he is glad to be the final member of his family?

I have no idea!

About anything.

I'm stuck inside my head with a million and one thoughts, questions and emotions.

How am I supposed to dissect each minuscule piece of information in such a small amount of time?

~*~

Alone.

Finally!

My mum, and Avan have been told to give me some space; supposedly rape victims need time to react to the impact of their ordeal.

I am happy for this time.

This space.

This silence.

I ease my fragile body from the bed, and with light, and careful steps, I wander into the en suite bathroom, and use the facilities.

I sting.

Bad!

In my thin hospital gown, I venture to the full length mirror nailed to the wall;

The woman looking back at me can't be me!

I refuse to believe that she is!

I am not her!

I am usually rosy cheeked, flushed and alive; a sparkle always sneaking into my eyes, but this girl.. This shell of a girl is white as a ghost, apart from the mask of bruising over her frail cheeks, her arms thickly bandaged, hiding the destruction beneath.

The girl is sickly thin, and obviously having a mental breakdown.

I can see that from observation.

It isn't me!

Even when I was dating Ricky, I never broke; I forced myself to keep going, I busied myself with work.

How did I manage that?

Look at.. Her!

Look at her broken face.

Where is the twinkle of life?

How am I supposed to overcome this horror? This life changing experience?

How am I supposed to trust another man again?

How am I supposed to become Annabell again?

This girl isn't Annabell Tryst.

This girl is a shell.

This girl is me