Dawn | Bucky Barnes ✔️

27. Darkness

Z A H R A   J E N K I N S

Heart pounding, I jerk awake in a cold sweat. In a few seconds before all my memories flush back to me, I glanced around me in shock and fear, my eyes seeing the sunlight peaking through the curtains. I pull the bed sheets up high to drape over my chin slightly, pillows underneath my head secures me as I slow lean myself back down on the soft material. I had expected confect, a rusted mattress, and my half naked form.

Not cotton and warmth, than what the nightmares had just perceived me with. I feel the warmth coating my skin, taking in that comfort that I'm safe. I'm away from that hell. I'm not with him anymore. A couple seconds later after I pulled myself out of the terrifying nightmare - my memory - I recalled what had happened two weeks ago, and everything that had happened since then.

After my midnight self pity last Thursday, I've been attending the support group classes to help cope with my lose and survival. I hadn't talked yet and I think some of the women there think that I don't and assume why I would go there to get help if I don't actually open up to them. And also why I am wearing comfortable pyjamas, a small dainty apartment that fits me perfectly and why I was safe now. Well, as safe as I could ever me, confiding my brain.

The morning sunrise is surprisingly quiet even with his busy Seattle usually is in the morning so I'm taking it's around 4 or 5. I shuffle out of bed as I felt a quick swarm of coldness engulf me when the covers leave my skin, creating shivers to dance across my skin. I rubbed the haze out of my eyes, flickering on the bedside table just to help ward of the intimidating darkness in the shadows of the apartment.

My feet touch the wooden flooring, toes crinkling at the feeling before I lay them flat. I push myself out of the bed, slipping on an large over sized t-shirt from my half naked form. I don't bother glancing towards the mirror on the wall across from my bedroom wall, I knew what would display on my skin if I look in it. But I should make myself look in it, I already wear just my bra and underwear so my scars are showing.

It allows me to show my skin without being afraid even though no one will see it because I will still in the end cover up my body. I lean forward on the sink, twisting the faucet before bringing my hands together under neath the falling water and splash it on to my face. I close my eyes for a mere couple seconds, taking a couple short breaths.

After I composed myself, I decided to take a walk around the city I got to know so well for the last two weeks I've been here. I changed out of the over sized t-shirt, into an grey off the shoulder jumper with a black bralette layered underneath as I pair it with blue washed out jeans and brown leather boots - nice clothing from the help of Irina, I mean EJ to which to keep her cover or something.

I take a deep breath before grabbing the cream tote bag and placing it on my left shoulder, my hand grasps the handle of the door before stepping out of the compartment. I lock the door behind me before walking down the narrow lit hallway with cracks in the chipped white walls. I smile tightly at the teenage boy carrying back grocery's into his apartment.

My mask goes back on as I make my way to the front of the apartment complex entrance. I pull open the door feeling the bliss that Swift pass me, swiping the curled hair into my face. I bring my hand up towards my face and position it back to the old spot and then I was walking.

I walked for hours, I didn't have an idea where exactly I was going but I just walked. I've been locked away from society so long that I feel the cliche new girl coming to town of feeling a calling to the city, and I want to live it. I want it to be mine. I want to leave tiny pieces of myself in every corner of the world.

I feel greedy for wanting to label myself on every corner, greedy for the experience of it all. The sights within the city. I feel giddy and addicted for this adventure I've taken myself on. I'm afraid there is no cure to stopping me from labelling Seattle as mine again. With each step I take, passing by some familiar strangers on the side walks or familiar sound of cars beeping and causing reckless noise.