The One Who Lived

Chapter Seven

Something changed between me and Ander last night.

Instead of yelling at me, he picked me up and brought me to safety. Instead of sleeping on the expensive leather couch in the corner, he slept next to me and held me when my screams filled his room and woke both of us up.

I know that even though I should probably leave in a way to preserve my sanity and stop this relationship from happening – I can't seem to. I don't know if it is because I don't want to face my parents and deal with the repercussions of the things I have said, or if it is because Ander is actually starting to make me feel again and that fucking terrifies me, but I can't force myself to get up. This bed is holding me in its grasp, and I am its willing victim.

"Do you want to take a shower?" Ander asks coming out of the bathroom with a cloud of steam following him.

I shake my head. "I don't have any clothes." I say even though it is a half-truth.

The full truth is that showers don't calm nor comfort me anymore.

Ander shrugs. "You are a little smaller than my mom. I bet she has some clothes that you can borrow. I will go look." He points at me and then to the bathroom. "Take a shower, young lady." Ander says in a playful scold that actually scares me because he suddenly sounds like his dad.

I laugh, crawling out of his bed. "I will leave the door unlocked so you can leave the clothes in there." I say as he walks out one door and I walk in another.

The biggest change to this house since we were kids has to be Ander's bathroom.

It used to be stark white tiles floors, white marble counters, white walls and a white shower. It is now floor to ceiling black marble with gold fleck in it, a deep sink, black toilet and the tub has been replaced with a floor to ceiling marble shower paired with a glass door that become clouded so no one can see in once the door is shut.

I genuinely think that his bathroom has to be worth more than my entire house.

I quickly get out of my dirty pajamas from yesterday, and stare at the shower for a few minutes debating if I want to get in because of how it has turned into one of my biggest battles. I could easily wash my hair in the sink and use a washcloth on my body and Ander would never know, but then I wonder if maybe I can finally face my fear because I am partially not alone.

I don't know why, but I just can't seem to shower anymore.

It sounds stupid. The idea of not being able to stand in the shower. I mean, you only have to be in there for a few minutes max.

I just forget that.

I forget that you don't have to stand there for hours. I forget that I don't have to turn the water on so scorching hot that it burns my skin — just to make sure that I am still alive. I forget that I don't have to wait for it to go from scorching hot to freezing cold and wait for my finger to turn into prunes.

I forget that I can't just give up.

I feel the water starting to turn cold as my legs give out and I somehow end up on the solid marble floor. I can feel the cold water splashing against my face and for some reason I lose the fight against holding my breath. I don't know what it is like to be water boarded, but I can imagine that it feels pretty damn close to this.

I know deep in my mind that I should move, but I just can't seem to draw myself away from the water. I just want to see how far I can push myself before I am on the verge of getting to where Anni is.

I only want to see how far I can go until I manage catch a glimpse of Anni.

I just want to see Anni without having to look at pictures of her from around my house. I want to stop seeing how our family used to be. I struggle to see Anni okay — alive — and not hate her for what she left me with and miss her more than anything in the entire world. I see her face and how she loved and supported every piece of me, but then I also see the face of the girl who destroyed me at the same time.