Saving Dallas Winston//// A Dallas Winston Story

13: Silent

Chains rattled as he held them in his hands. My bottom lip quivering and my bruised and bloody body was quaking. He wrapped the chains around my wrists as I weakly tried to fight back. He clipped the chain to the ceiling, making my feet barely touch the ground. My wrists ached and so did my lungs. The cold air felt like it was piercing my throat with every breath I took.

It was like some kind of torture scene out of a movie. I was hanging there like prey in the freezing cold, him holding a belt and my back and front covered in gashes. I was sobbing harsh tears, the pain felt unbearable. I just wished I could die right here, right now.

I sat up with a scream, sweat dripping down my forehead and coating my body.

It's not real. It's not real. It's not real.

I kept repeating that in my head over and over again. Except it was real. All of that actually happened. The torture.

The floor was cold as I placed my feet to it and I hurried to the kitchen for a cup of water. The faucet pooled the liquid into the cup before I brought it to my lips. The surprisingly cold liquid hit my throat, bringing me right back to that room with the cold breath hitting my lungs, like inhaling razor blades.

Not real, not real, not real!

"Y/N?" Soda entered the kitchen quietly. His voice seemed muffled by something. Everything in my ears sounded fuzzy, except my breathing. I could hear my breathing, feel the harsh, sharp breaths I sucked in.

"Soda." I gasped out his name, as he came over to me. The world began to spin as I leaned against the wall.

"Hey, hey. Y/N." he softly grabbed my arms as I slid down the wall behind me. "Okay, okay. You're okay, you're okay." More breaths racked through my body harshly. My chest began to hurt and tighten as I began to get light headed from the lack of oxygen. "You're okay. What's wrong? Y/N, what's wrong? Y/N c'mon you're scaring me!" I couldn't find words. I couldn't form words. My breath was caught in my throat and wouldn't make its way to my lungs.

I always hated this feeling. The first time I had a panic attack, I thought I was gonna die. Everything Mark had put in my head was still there and I couldn't escape it, escape him. Life, as I had known it, was over. I always had this lingering feeling that Mark was going to be the reason I die someday. Now, I had planned for me to be the reason I die. I just had some things to tie up first.

My breathing slowed and I finally got the sweet relief of breath in my lungs. I wasn't light headed anymore and Soda was rocking me back and forth, arms wrapped around me tightly.

"I'm s- sorry, Soda." I sobbed out quietly.

"Sh, sh, sh. No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left you alone. Do you want me to stay with you?" I shook my no and went outside with a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. My tears were quickly dried and I noticed the sun had begun to come up. The butt of my cigarette burned a bright orange color and smoke emitted from it.

As I flicked the lighter shut, someone flashed through my mind, Dallas. The last time we spoke wasn't exactly ideal. I felt like I should apologize, but at the same time, he was in the wrong too. I needed to head to Buck's anyway. Like I said, I had some things to tie up. For now I was gonna do something to take my mind off of everything.

~Time Skip~

The smell of farm animals filled my nose as I walked up to the barn where, the horse I rode in rodeos, was kept. I walked up to the caramel color horse and patted him on the side.

"Hey Whiskey, hey boy." he huffed and threw his head a little, before rubbing his head against my side, showing his affection. My eyes went to his ears, making sure they weren't pinned back before walking behind him. I kept my hand on him at all times as I walked behind him, so that I didn't spook him and get kicked. Once I got to the other side of him, I checked on his hooves on that side and pat him.