Like a Moth to a Flame

Lisa 19

For once in a very long time, I feel safe and cared for as Andrew's arms wrap around me, holding me close to his body. I can feel his pulse racing as we're both trying to catch our breath, laying in completed yet sated silence. A smile forms itself as I nuzzle into him because I can't seem to get enough of him. We're as close as two bodies could possibly be, yet I want to be, I need to be closer.

I close my eyes and listen to his heartbeat slow itself down as he runs his fingers through my hair and gently kisses the top of my head.

We continue to savor the moment with each other until his phone goes off. "I'm sorry baby, I have to get up." He reaches over to his phone, reads the text and starts to get dressed, a look of worry now filling his eyes.

"Is everything ok?" I ask, not really wanting to know. "Its Sam. The suspect. He...he has a request." I wrap myself in a sheet and sit up, reaching for him because I need to see his face. He looks down at me and squats down next to the bed as he takes my hand. "He wants to speak to you. He found out about you and had some questions for you. You don't have to do this. Please know this. You don't owe him or anyone, anything."

Everything in me is telling me to speak to him. Everything in me is wanting to tell my story. I have to. If this helps Sam's case any, I'm going to do it.

"What time should I be there?" I say as I climb off the bed and start walking towards the shower. I feel Andrew's hand take mine as I stop just short of the bathroom. "I find it admirable of you to want to do this, but I just don't want you to feel obligated in any way to do this. I don't want it to hurt you in any way, to relive those memories. But, if you still feel you want to do this, I'll be right there with you. I'm not leaving your side."

He leans in and gives me a quick peck on my lips as he looks into my eyes for confirmation. "I'm going Andrew. What time should I be there?"

"He wants to meet at 2 p.m. today. I've got to go back to the office but text me once you get there and I'll come get you."

He kisses me once more before he heads out the door. The strength that coursed through me when Andrew was here is now vanishing with each passing minute and I'm starting to regret my decision to go through with this. I let the water wash over me and the tears that have surprisingly fallen yet again.

After I dress, I sit on my bed and feel the urge to just write. Write things down so that I won't forget what I want to say.

I find a pen and my notebook and just let the thoughts pour out into the paper before me.

"I was just coming out of dark moment in my life when I found someone who claimed to mesh with me. Someone who claimed to sympathize with me. He was an addict as well and after talking me out of taking that old "syringe" once again and piercing my skin and life with it time and time again, he was now the one holding out an even more potent drug.

He'd have it readily available. Multiple times a day. I knew it was wrong but because it was him, because I had come to trust him, because I thought he cared for me, In went the syringe, in went the "drugs" and out went my dignity. My self respect. My worth.

He knew this, he knew all I stood to lose and I the same with him, but there we continued. He was now my supplier. But during this time, my conscience would kick in and I'd try to beat the habit every week, but sadly, I was too weak and addicted; too empty and the hole within me was growing every passing minute.

But then one day, after he told me what I'd have to sacrifice in order to get another "fix," I just couldn't do it anymore and he didn't like it.

I slowly pulled the used "syringe" out of my arm, pressing the wound, taking a slow step back from him, my eyes never leaving his as I wasn't sure what he'd be capable of doing to me. I shutter at the thought."

A tear lands on the paper as it hits me that I could've been another one of his victims. I could've been the one who's family was torn apart and left devastated, wondering why this happened and could it have been prevented. I could've been the one who didn't get to tell her story, the story of the monster masquerading in human skin.

I put my pen down and compose myself as I decide that would be enough to start off with. I continue to get dressed as I head out the door and towards the police department, ready to open up an old wound.