In the Woods When First We Met

22. Flashback

Anne tried to do her long division.

For about two minutes.

Then she set her slate on the table beside her bed and laid down on her bed.

She felt dirty.

She got up and pulled her stockings off. She looked at the rips in them and noticed a dirty handprint on the inside of the right thigh.

She felt like she was going to throw up. She balled up the stockings and pushed them under her bed, out of sight.

But then she realized she'd have to put them back on to go down to dinner. She pulled them on again, vowing to wash them later that night.

She went over to her washbasin and washed her face. She saw her reflection in the window pane.

There wasn't anything different about her face. She had thought that what had happened would show, somehow. But she didn't look any different than before.

She went back to her bed and laid down again.

She stared up at the ceiling for a moment, then closed her eyes.

No, flashed into her mind. Please...

Her eyes snapped open.

She breathed heavily for a moment.

No.

No.

No.

Suddenly Anne felt as if it were happening all over again.

It wasn't just a memory.

It was real.

She could almost feel the ground with its dry leaves underneath her, instead her soft bed.

She sat up, pulling herself out of the awful feeling that it was happening to her again.

She sat on her bed, breathing heavily.

Then exhaustion hit again.

Why can't I lie down? Anne thought with despair. I'm so tired...so, so tired.

She tried to lie down on her back, again, staring up at the ceiling and trying to breathe evenly.

But she couldn't. She realized she could not lay on her back. When she lay on her back, she felt like she was being suffocated. She felt vulnerable.

When she lay on her back, she could almost feel him on top of her again.

She rolled over onto her side, clutching her pillow to her face to hide the tears that suddenly flowed.

She let a few tears seep out, but then with all her might she forced herself to hold back her tears.

She rolled onto her stomach, hoping that sleeping downward would be better. No one is on top of me, she told herself, hugging her pillow. I'll just sleep on my stomach. I'll know no one is on top of me if I sleep on my stomach.

Her head ached.

She said her prayers in her head and asked God to let her go to sleep.