Fear is a Liar

Ch. 3

Something inside her breaks, and she begins to cry as I try to soothe the best I can. "Shhh Shhh Shhh.... You're okay.... You're safe now. Nothing and no one is going to hurt you babygirl."

Mariska held me in her arms and smoothed my hair back from my forehead, slowly rocking me. "Hey honey, it's late. Do you want to sleep out here or with me?" I bite my lip and blush, mentally deciding but feeling bashful in voicing my choice.

"C'mon honey, let's get to bed then, you must be so exhausted bunny." Mariska then pulls me to my feet, her accent coming through as she whispers comforting little things in my ear.
She tosses me an old tee shirt and turns around. I change quickly but she still catches a glimpse of my scarred body and I can see the pain in her eyes and all I want is to hide. I burrow under the soft covers and scoot as far to the side of the bed as I can without falling off. "You're safe with me darling. No need to hide." It's like she can read my mind.

"Babygirl, you know I think you're absolutely beautiful right?" Her eyes glisten with tears, I can see the mother's heart she has for me.

"B-But I'm all scarred and broken and bashed up. I'm nothing." I murmur ever so softly, burrowing into the soft fleece.

Mariska sighs, scooting closer and wrapping me in her arms. At first I fight her loving grip, but soon settle in when something in my spirit tells me I am safe. I drift off to sleep, just barely holding her hand as I hear her whisper "Sweet girl..... You're so safe."

When I wake up screaming and fighting against my imaginary father she is already awake and ready to help. "Oh lovey. You're safe. Shhhh. You're safe. " My heart is pounding like I just ran a marathon, I am soaked in sweat yet she still pulls me into her arms and rocks me until I calm. "Gotta breathe bunny, you gotta breathe... Shhhhh."

The soft cotton tee shirt is damp with sweat and my body is sore. I shift uncomfortably in bed. She asks what is wrong but I can only shake my head as the tears overpower. "I-I had a n-nightmare..." I whisper, trying to hold in my tears so she doesnt hurt me. That tender look on her face illudes safety, but I'm afraid to reach for it. Tears start flowing before I can stop them, and before I know it I am a blubbering mess.

Mariska peels back the covers, and guides me into her arms. I flinch and fight it, whimpering when she runs her hand gently back and forth across my back.

I sit up, running my fingertips across the hemmed edge of the comforter. Back and forth until the soft crushed velvet feels soothing, I try to regulate my breathing and let Mariska's love in, but I'm still so afraid. "Honey... I'm right here. No one is ever going to hurt you again, not on my watch." She seems sincere, but how do I know? I don't think I can do this again. After about twenty minutes Mariska rubs her eyes and brushes herself off,, stumbling out of bed to the closet. I hear a door open, the soft metal hinge squeaks as she rummages around in the dark. My heart rate speeds up instantly, I wipe the sweat from my forehead and try to seem relaxed,, when I'm relaxed it hurts less. She comes back after a few minutes with something in her hands, a jewelry box shaped container with a lock on the front. It makes a heavy imprint on the comforter and mattress as it sits between Mariska and I, I gingerly trace the intricate work, realizing it is a dark oak box. "Open it" Mariska nudges,, I shake my head and shrink away when I gear the clinking. I know she has questions, I can see it in her eyes and the way she tiptoes around certain subjects but asking, nope that isn't something I want to do. Suddenly I'm back, being beaten by my foster father, his belt making contact again and again with my back, enough to break the skin and scar. I feel frozen, watching the scene play out with no way to stop, but also present enough to see the pain and hurt than surface on Mariska's face.

"What has you so worked up girlie?" She asks gently, thumbing over my hand and kissing my head, I jerk back, still afraid she might hit me. Her soft motherly voice hits just the right places in my heart that eventually I open up just a little. "I-I... H-He... W-When." I wipe the tears away and burrow into the covers frustrated that I can't get anything out.