Clarissa's Past [COMPLETED]

Chapter 2

Clarissa's POV:

I was in a room.

It was very dark. I couldn't see anything. The only source of light that was there was above me.

I was tied to a chair and was unable to move.

Suddenly, the door opened and a man walked in.

He stepped into the light so I could see his face. It was him. The man who haunted my dreams every night.

"Alexis..." He said and let out a chuckle, "you look like you need some help. Here let me."

He took a knife out of his pocket and flipped it open. He came closer and instead of cutting the rope, he cut my arm.

"Oops. My bad." He said and continued cutting my arms.

I bit my lip to stop from screaming.

He continued and when he didn't get a reaction from me, he started punching me.

Still, I stayed silent and somehow, stopped myself from screaming. But I couldn't stop my tears from rolling down.

He raised his fist and punched me in my gut. I spat the blood on the floor.

"Please, stop." I begged, but he didn't.

Instead he went to a corner and came back with a stick and without saying anything slammed it in my head.

"CLARISSA!" I opened my eyes, I was panting and covered in sweat. I looked around, frantically, searching for the source of the voice.

"Claire, its me." Will said. I sighed and he pulled me into a hug. Alan is a very deep sleeper. Even a bomb blast could happed and he would be snoring away.

"Why do I get these night terrors, Will?" They weren't even night terrors. They were more like a memory. It felt so real.

"I don't know." He lied.

"Stop lying."

"I'm not. I really don't know." Another lie, but I didn't push it because it always led to the same answer: "I don't know."

"Was it the same one?" He asked, after a beat.

I nodded.

He nodded and lied down on my bed and pulled me with him. "Go to sleep, Claire," he whispered, like he always did whenever I had a nightmare.

*~*

I woke up to an empty bed. Not surprising at all. Will always stays with me after every nightmare and goes to his room when he is sure I'm asleep.

I got out of bed and made my way to the bathroom. My bathroom has a closet inside so I don't have to worry about getting my clothes.

I always wear the same thing, which consists of black jeans, a checked button up shirt or a lose T-shirt and a jacket.

Once I was ready, I went to the kitchen and greeted Mary, "Good morning, Mary." I helped myself to a glass of orange juice.

"Good morning sweetheart." She replied. Mary was the one who took care of us when we were younger and now she just works as a maid around the house. And she is a very good cook.

Will came down a few minutes later and stole my cup of orange juice taking a sip from it, ignoring my glare.

I haven't even drank it yet.