The Guard To My Sanctuary

Chapter 13

Elm

I dreamed of London last night for the first time in three days. Just when I thought the nightmares were gone, they returned like a relentless boomerang. Marco and I were cozied on the couch in the dream, the TV casting a soft glow in the dim room. Suddenly, London burst in with a group of men, and before Marco could react, they shot him. London grabbed me, ignoring my screams, and took me to Trenton.

He brutalized me, using me as his personal slave, taking me whenever he wanted, and beating me bloody. I woke up screaming, terrified. Marco made me FaceTime him and guided me through breathing exercises. My dad rushed into my room, scooped me and my phone up, carried me to the master bedroom, and laid me on one side of the bed. He climbed onto the other side, and they both waited for me to fall asleep. It made me feel weak, but I finally drifted off and woke up an hour later at seven.

When I woke up, I noticed Marco had texted me, promising to see me tonight since it was Wednesday. That lifted my spirits a bit. I slowly realized I was growing to like him romantically, even though I knew I wasn't stable enough to act on those feelings. I couldn't stop myself from fantasizing about him cuddling next to me, though thinking about sex with him was still impossible due to my past experiences.

I walked downstairs to the kitchen, a bright and welcoming space filled with natural light. The sun poured in through the windows, and I ran my hands along the white wood cupboards and the black quartz countertops. I grabbed eggs, bacon, and a bag of oranges from the fridge and set everything on the green-painted wood island.

I prepared breakfast, relishing the simple tasks of cooking, whisking eggs, and slicing oranges. The familiar routine brought me a sense of calm. I finished cooking, ate my breakfast at the counter, and left my dad's plate on the counter. Hearing the shower running upstairs, I knew he'd be down soon.

Lately, I have been going to work with my dad since he doesn't want me home alone yet. It was annoying but understandable. Out of boredom, I enrolled in online school to catch up on what I missed. A week before Marco left, my dad pulled some strings to get me re-enrolled without the public finding out.

I tested out of middle school and made it to eleventh-grade courses, but I struggled with geometry and chemistry. Reading had been one of the few things I was allowed to do, and it kept my brain as sharp as it could be given the circumstances. I wished I could have experienced high school fully, with after-school tutoring and prom dances, but those experiences were taken from me.

Back in my room, I picked out a shirt, hoodie, jeans, and undergarments to wear to my dad's office. I grabbed my pills, took them without water, and headed to the bathroom. The dark-themed room with tile flooring felt cold against my bare feet. I quickly got ready to take a bath—a rare luxury I cherished since I hadn't been able to take one for a decade. I dressed, grabbed my phone, charger, and laptop, and went downstairs to find my dad eating breakfast.

"I'm ready," I said, and he smiled at me.

"Your brothers never made me breakfast before work, thank you," he said, getting up and putting his plate in the sink. He was in uniform, looking imposing, but I could see the kindness in his eyes. My dad threw me over his shoulder effortlessly, carrying me out of the house after grabbing his briefcase. I protested, but he laughed and deposited me in the passenger seat.

"So I will have a lawyer talk to you about releasing your trust. I set it up in installments that will be deposited into your old bank account you made in the second grade," my dad said with a smile.

"Okay, Daddy. Thank you. Oh, and when will you teach me how to drive?" I asked as he pulled away.

"Why do you need to know how to drive? Do you have places to be? Am I smothering you, darling?" he asked, giving me a questioning look.