Raising her head slightly, she looked around at the blank room she found herself in. Well, it seemed like a room, but the walls and ceiling were undetectable as if the room was so large her eyes couldn't make out the edges. Feeling unnerved, Sam gently rose to her feet. Her muscles screamed at her, yet she forced herself to stand up, determined to survive. And for once she was determined to fight for herself. As she finally rose to her feet, she couldn't help the blossom of pride that passed through her heart, and she smiled inwardly at herself.
Suddenly a light appeared next to her, a dull purple orb floating at hip-height. Intrigued she reached towards it, and touching it, the sense of pride she had just felt flittered through her heart once again. Shocked, she realised that the orb was a memory of the emotion she had just had. Glancing around the room, she saw other orbs appear. Approaching a glowing green one she reached her hand out once again. Suddenly she felt an intense sense of happiness, and a scene swam before her eyes. Liam and Aiden were lied sprawled on the sofa of the treehouse, joking around. Suddenly Aiden's eyes turned to her, shining with so much joy she felt like her heart would burst. Gasping, she pulled her hand away from the orb. Moving to another she repeated the process.
Blue. The sun on the lake, the glistening water. Her first summer in the packhouse when she'd finally felt at home.
Orange. Rescuing Kira from the basement, the fear in her eyes turning to tears as she realised she was finally free.
Yellow. Her first shift, and meeting her wolf. Evie. That had been her name before they had merged so intensely that they had become one.
Sam halted in front of a black orb. Unlike the colourful ones, this one didn't seem to glow. But instead seemed to suck in the light from around, dimming the colours around it. Hesitantly Sam reached out.
Cold. Dark. Pain. Sam gritted her teeth as the whip came for her again. She flinched as it hit her skin. Yet Sam refused to make a sound, holding back the wince that threatened to escape her. Looking up, she took in the face of the gaoler. He grinned as he held up the whip once more. But this time he turned to the figure next to her. Crack. The whip hit the person who groaned, so weak they were unable to lift their head. Unable to keep quiet any longer, Sam let out a scream.
"STOP IT! He-He can't take it any more. You're going to kill him..." She fought against the restraints binding her to the wall, desperate to reach the figure.
The gaoler refused to answer, simply smiling as he brought the whip back once again. Crack. Crack. Crack. Each lash brought Sam more pain than if it had been her skin that was being torn from her back. She refused to cry, but couldn't hold back her screams as she strained to save the boy lied next to her. The manacles cut into her wrists, opening deep gouges that streamed with blood. Yet she kept pulling, ignoring the pain. Crack. With a final lash, Sam heard the figure let out a strained breath. Then he breathed no more. Tears flooded her eyes, blurring her vision as she peered up. The gaoler turned to her.
"Maybe you'll learn to keep quiet next time." He goaded. "Maybe if you do no one else will have to die." With that he turned, leaving Sam next to the body.
Gasping, Sam pulled her hand away from the orb. Her eyes were wet with tears. She remembered that memory. They had left her next to the boy for two weeks, refusing to feed her. They had wanted her to feel the urge to eat, wanted her to hate herself. That had been the true torture. Not the pain of the whip, or the burns from the iron. But the psychological torture, teaching her to hate her every thought until she relied on them to think for her.
Peering around the room, she noticed other black orbs in between the bright lights. They definitely outnumbered the colours, casting a dullness on the colours. Even though this was just a dream, Sam understood. She had darkness in her past, everyone did, but she had to learn to let the positive memories outshine the darkness. Or she had to learn to accept the darkness.
***
Sam jolted awake. Her sheets were drenched in sweat and there were holes in her duvet where her claws had gripped at it. As she lay there trying to get her breath back, she couldn't help but replay her dreams. She grabbed a notebook that lay on the bookshelf behind her, wanting to write down her feelings in the hope that it might enlighten her further.
She finally understood her recurring nightmare. She understood that the walls represented the prison of her mind, the prison that she forced upon herself, that she didn't feel she could ever escape from. Her mind filled with her thoughts she wrote;
'My nightmare, the one that haunts me night after night finally makes sense. The small box represents my unwillingness to let myself be free. It is the punishment I have been enforcing on myself as a response to all my actions, to the horrors I committed in the past. In my dream, the walls always close in on me, and I think this means that I want my punishment to be more severe. Or maybe its representing that as I continue to live the way I do, shutting myself from others, I'm forcing my mental prison to shrink.
Also, the black window for escape. It wasn't there last night, but I think I understand what it means. It means that subconsciously I think there's a chance for redemption, a chance to escape my hatred of myself, and a chance to love myself again. But I can never reach the window, because I haven't learnt to love myself. I'm trying to reach it physically, but it's a window I need to reach emotionally.'
Sam paused, stretching her cramped hand. Writing really helped her think, allowing her to organise her thoughts and realisations.
'Last night there was a second part to the dream. A new part that I've never been in before. I was in an empty room, so big that I couldn't see the walls or the roof. The room was filled with floating lights. When I touched them, I remembered something from my past. I think the different colours represented the meaning of the memory, and the bright colours seemed to represent the more positive memories. Memories where I felt positive emotions, where I was happy in myself. Whereas the black orbs. Well I say black, they weren't black orbs as such, but they seemed to absorb the colour around them, dragging it towards them. And they held the negative memories. The memories that are the reason why I don't believe anyone could ever love me. The reason why I can't love myself.'
As she wrote that final sentence, Sam felt her eyes fill with tears. She'd realised that it was the truth the night before, but saying it out loud, well writing it down, made it seem so much more real. But maybe making it real was the first step to changing it.
YOU ARE READING
Permission to escape - The Rogue Pack
Werewolf"You, I was thinking of you" she admitted. Aiden groaned, curling his hands around's Sam's waist as she spoke, her words like an enchantment to his ears. Her body fit into his perfectly, her short height of 5'2'' only adding to his sense of dominanc...
