Out From the Shadows

Chapter 7

I revealed too much to Ashton yesterday. I hate feeling vulnerable and looking weak. I promised myself that I would never cry, no matter the reason. I was only thirteen then, so maybe I was too young to make such a major promise. I just hope that Ashton doesn't take my feelings for trust, because my trust is earned, not given freely.

******

It's dark for a few seconds until I open my eyes. Scenes skip, time gets choppy. Ashton and I are sitting on a stone bench, who knows where we are. Our lips meet and his fits together with mine like a puzzle piece. We scooch closer and come to be pressed against one another, completing the puzzle.

Time skips.

Under the blanket we are kissing deeper than before. It's stuffy and hard to breath, yet I'm content. My legs touching his, him cradling my body tight, we are fastened to one another. Nothing is between us and it cause jitters to fill my body. I feel his lips stretch into a smile while we kiss and a tiny giggle slips from between my lips.

Another time lapse.

A glass shattering scream leaves a ringing in my ears. I'm shaking uncontrollably, huddled in the corner of a dark room. The only light comes from a small hole in the door and I can't remember where I am. All I can recall is a figure, maybe a man, talking to me. Then...nothing. Until I woke up in this strange place, listening to the screaming of a woman. Or is it a woman? Another scream echoes along the stone wall of my prison and I clamp my ears with my hands, imagining being anywhere else except here.

******

I wake with a start, a scream left on my lips. I search around frantically, trying to remember where I am. Once I spot the purple wallpaper, I realize that I'm back in my room at the Laker's mansion. I rub my forehead, trying to get the nightmare out of my head. Sleeping with Ashton? Not gonna happen. At least not now anyways. What ever the last scene was, I don't want to have to think about it ever again. I decide to get ready for the day and use it as a distraction.

With a yank of the sheets, the chilly air hit my bare legs. I recall the events of yesterday. After all the boring appointments, Ashton and I spent some quality time getting to know each other. There wasn't any kissing involved or touching, just talking.

I tell him about my parents, only the good things, and make my childhood sound nonchalant. I want to keep some things personal, if I can.

I found out that his favorite color is navy blue, that he loves to read, and other little things like that. On the topic of books, he leads me to his bedroom. The room is three doors down from mine, and upon entering, he shows me his book collection. His eyes light up while he talks and his face shows pure enjoyment. I enjoy seeing him cheery and not so glum all the time.

I inspected his room to learn more about him. His bed was tucked in so tight, if a quarter was dropped on it, it would bounce and hit the ceiling. The closet door is wide open, exposing perfectly folded clothes and hung-up formal outfits. There was a writing desk tucked into the corner of the room and stacks of paper was resting on top. To my left, shelves cover a whole wall of the room and are brimming with books. All different kinds of genres and stories. This makes me miss the book I left behind. It was about a princess who meets a beautiful stranger and they end up falling in love. My life is one big ironic story itself.

After a couple hours spent in his room, we said our goodbyes when the sun began to recede and I headed off to my room. I quickly changed into a pair of shorts and a nightgown, crawled into bed, and dozed off into the nothingness of deep sleep.