Two days later, I was situated in the passenger seat of Temp's truck, fidgeting with the radio. After persuading Marcus into staying behind, Temp packed up a couple of things and climbed into his rusty, black truck, not even having to force me into hopping inside. We were speeding down the highway with the windows rolled down - the engine was sputtering and every once in awhile, it roared from Temp turning sharply around a corner. He had cleaned up nicely with his hair combed back and his clothes, a loose t-shirt and dark jeans, ironed. Dark circles still rested underneath his eyes and his posture was off, but I knew after a few days, he was going to return entirely to himself. Taking a deep breath, I looked down at the mark on my wrist, the black 'x' that forever haunted me. I started tracing the mark, gently. Humming to the tune playing from the radio, he looked over, noticing. "You're still tracing the mark?"
"Yeah, it's hard not to," I told him, shrugging. "It's weird - I used to be ashamed of it, afraid of what people would think. Either, some poor girl they pitied or someone they feared because I was categorized as untrustworthy and dangerous." He pinched his lips together, his eyes continuously shifting from the road to me. "But, right now, I'm kind of thankful for the mark. It's here forever; it's permanent, unlike everything else." Shakily, I inhaled loudly, tapping the mark with my index finger. "Everyone looks at it as this awful thing, but really, it's just a reminder that I survived something terrible. That I walked through Hell and I may have gotten burned, but I'm here." Judging by the expression on his face, he was debating in his head on what to say. "I'm still here."
He cleared his throat. "I never asked what it was like."
"Well, you're capable of reading minds, right?" I started, raising an eyebrow. "Imagine having that happen to you, then, every day and night, tormented by nightmares and illusions, containing your worst fears." Shaking my head, I added, "I felt utterly weak because the creature knew everything about me a-and it was scary."
"You know, Torments are notorious for killing their victims in their sleep," he said, glancing over at me. "I mean, if you didn't commit suicide, once they got bored, that was it."
"I know," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "If you're trying to ask me why I wasn't killed, I don't know, Temp."
"I'm just curious," he drawled, before licking his lips. "So, has your family contacted you at all?"
"No," I answered, quietly. "I mean, my family and I - we love each other, but once I got involved with the werewolves, they weren't very supportive." I bit my bottom lip, looking down at the mark on my wrist once again. "Honestly, I bet they've heard about the trouble I'm in, probably saw me on the news. Maybe they're thinking I deserve this and it'd be better if they stayed out of it."
"Uh, did they know about the Torment?"
"Sort of," I mumbled, grinning. "My parents thought I had insomnia and concerned, they got me some medication." I looked ahead at the empty road, flashing back to the memories. "But, what they didn't realize was that I didn't want to sleep - that's when it was the worst. I constantly flushed the pills down the toilet and one night, my mom caught me. She was so angry. The next day, they were threatening to send me away." I looked over at Temp, surprised he was actually listening, appearing interested. "I bet they were relieved when I moved out the next year."
He hesitated. "I was in the military." Already knowing this, I nodded my head and he continued, slowly. "I was barely twenty-two and they sent me out onto the field. I, uh, witnessed the majority of my team die and there wasn't anything that I could do about it." A moment of silence passed between us as he struggled with the correct words. "When I came back, I had PTSD and I was given medication, but I didn't take it. . . It was to basically numb me, make everything feel okay around me, but it wasn't. Nothing was." He shook his head, inhaling loudly. "My team was killed, my dad had recently left my mom, and my sister was an alcoholic."
