The List

Chapter One- In the Night

 NOTE: Thank you for reading! There's a reason I prefer to stay anonymous; simply because what I have written has come from experience.

But I wanted to share my story because I want to spread awareness. I am hoping that this will reach out to anybody who has been in a similar situation. I hope this will inspire them and make them feel less isolated.

If you are one of these people; do not sit alone in silence! Do something about it; be brave. Remember, you are not alone!

If you read this story and would like to ask some advice, feel free to inbox!Thanks again for listening! Please vote!

CookiesandCream01 <3

Chapter one

His hands were all over me, his clammy grasps everywhere. The stench of his over-powering aftershave was almost unbearable. I tried to move away, but the hands only seized me tighter. I couldn’t breathe. This was wrong. So very wrong. I opened my mouth to scream…

The scream was still going as I sat straight up in bed, the vivid memories still piercing my brain, my heart thumping in fear. I could feel myself drenched in sweat, my body still trembling.

I waited to see if I had awoken one of my parents, but of course no one came. They were well accustomed to my screaming fits which took place almost every night. They had long since been used to my outbursts and they never came to check on me anymore. They knew that it was all because of a nightmare. But they never found out what it was really about. They could never find out…

I sat straight for a few moments longer, waiting for my breathing to slow; taking exactly ten deep breaths which was the routine. Usually, I would settle back down to sleep, but tonight was different.

I was sick of it. I finally couldn’t take any more of this.

What I couldn’t understand was why this was still happening. It had been four years. Four years since it happened. Why was I still having nightmares? This wasn’t right; surely this wasn’t normal.

What was stranger still, was that these nightmares hadn’t started till about two years ago. Now that didn’t make any sense. But I supposed I had some of an idea why…

I didn’t want it to matter how it started. All I wanted was for them to stop.

But deep inside I knew, that it did matter. And it was the key to solving the problem.

Taking another deep breath, I allowed myself to think, to remember clearly what had happened. I regretted it immediately, the instant hurt that took over my heart, the burning sting of tears and it was obvious that this was the reason I had never allowed myself to think of this before.

The answer came to me as quickly as I had asked the question. Why was I still carrying this burden with me? It was because I hadn’t released it. I had kept it in.

I knew that it hadn’t been the smartest thing to do. After it had happened, I hadn’t told a single person. The fourteen year-old me hadn’t realised the impact of this. All she had cared about was forgetting and she had literally blocked it from her life. How was she to know that two years later, she would discover the actual depth to the wound; that everything would all come rushing back and that actually her tragedy had caused more damage than she originally thought. Then the nightmares would begin.

I knew my mistake now. I should have told someone. Years and years ago I should have said something. But now I felt it was too late. I knew for a fact, that I would physically never be able to bring it up. It had been a secret for so long, it was now doomed to be one forever. Besides, what if my loved ones got angry? Furious that I never said.  Or that people would treat me differently, a constant reminder always in my face. What if they thought I was being silly, making a big deal out of something that happened so long ago.

But I had to do something.

Blinking away the tears, I considered my options. Of course, I knew exactly what to do; but I had pushed away the possibilities, convinced I wouldn’t ever be able to handle it. Although; other circumstances had come across that made me more desperate to fix it than ever.

I crept out of my silken bedcovers, tip-toed across the thick car-petted floor towards my desk on the other side of my room. Dim light flooded the room as I flicked the lamp switch; throwing dark shadows in every direction. I fumbled for a notepad and a pen.

I gazed at the glaring white page for a few moments; deeply silent. Then I took a deep breath; raised the pen and started writing a list.