Starting from Scratch

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER ONE

Alicia

I would say any behavior that is not the status quo is interpreted as insanity, when, in fact, it might actually be enlightenment. Insanity is sorta in the eye of the beholder.

~Chuck Palahnuik

I woke up abruptly, breathing hard and fast. My surroundings were dark and I tried to catch my breath as my eyes adjusted. When they finally did adjust, I could see that I was alone in my room. I let out a long breath, falling back onto my bed and closing my eyes. It was just a dream. Calm down; remember the breath.

I rubbed my eyes and sat back up, throwing the covers off. I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the healed scars hiding beneath the brunette set. I grabbed the prosthetic leg beside my bed and began to attach the mental contraption before grabbing the slippers from my closet. I switched the light on as I walked out of my room and made my way to the kitchen.

I opened the fridge and took a water bottle out, groggily opening the cap and taking a long drink. The cold liquid set off the nerves in my teeth, flowing sweetly down my throat with ease. I stared at the house phone, contemplating if I should call my counselor, but knowing he would be asleep. Once I began to head back to my room, Shasta opened her bedroom door and looked at me tiredly.

"Hey," I said lightly. "Sorry for waking you up."

"Hey, no," she replied with a small yawn. "No, it's all-" yawn "-all good. Did you have another nightmare?"

I gave a weak smile with a small nod. "Yeah, but I got some water. I'll be heading back to bed in a second."

"Alright," she nodded. "Don't hesitate to knock if you need me."

"Thanks, love," I replied. "Sweet dreams." She smiled in gratitude before going back inside her room.

PTSD was supposed to last for a long time; that was normal. I still had nightmares about what had happened eight months ago. I could still feel his hands wrapped around my throat, pulling at my hair. I could still feel the cool metal of the gun pressed against my head.

I don't know what else I could've expected. I guess I thought that the nightmare was over after Jason was sentenced for life in prison, but I'd still been haunted by it every night. I hadn't had many nights where I could stay asleep the whole time. I guess I could've gotten something to help the issue, but I didn't need any drugs to put me to sleep. I had gotten enough morphine from the hospital to last for decades. I didn't want anymore narcotics -- especially after seeing Jason inject himself.

I leant against my door after closing it behind me and blinked through the dark. I listened intently to the cars passing on the street and took a few breaths, in then out, carefully. Finally, I went to my bed and grabbed my phone from my bedside dresser and dialed Matthew's number. After a few rings, his voicemail greeted me.

Hey, it's Matt; you know what to do.

I let out a sigh before leaving a message. "Hey, babe, it's me," I let out a shaky breath, swallowing. "Sorry, I know it's like three AM right now, but I just, um," I closed my eyes, "I couldn't sleep. I figured you would be sleeping, but I thought I'd call you anyways, just in case. Okay, uh, yeah, alright; I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight. Um, bye."

After hanging up, I grabbed the charger and plugged it in then looked through my music. I tilted my head at the dejavu crossing my mind before shaking my head to rid myself of past memories. I decided on sticking to one artist alone instead and pressed play. After this, I lay down and sighed as I closed my eyes and attempted to fall back asleep.

I couldn't sleep, though. I could only focus on my racing thoughts. Of course, all my thoughts consisted of the past -- the past that I escaped from, the people I missed, the people present in my life now. Eight months ago, a baritone voice, gentle, brown eyes, and warm, callused palms would have comforted me after waking up from a nightmare. I opened my eyes and inhaled deeply, holding it in until my lungs screamed and I let it out slowly.

I couldn't think about that anymore. I had to stop thinking about him. Leo was gone. I had a life to live. I had even found someone who cared about me: Matt. I had Matt to cherish. I knew that I would never have any way to repay Leo for having saved my life, but I also knew that I couldn't afford to put my life on hold for someone who had kept secrets from me for months after I had poured my soul out to them.

I miss him.

I closed my eyes in pain as the thought crossed my mind. It was true. I did miss him. He had become such a close friend of mine. One minute he saved my life and then the next moment he was gone. Granted, I was the one who had demanded that he leave, but...what he did hurt me. Three months later I saw tabloids everywhere that spread the news of Leo Parker and Daniela Cole's big split. Their wedding had been canceled and I felt my stomach drop in empathy, wondering if Leo was okay. Then the reasonings as to why he was now out of my life had returned to my mind and my blood boiled all over again.

He had been engaged. He had been engaged and hadn't told me for just about four months.

I placed a hand to my tightened chest as my breath wet short. I closed my eyes and breathed out as I tried to focus on the here and the now, pushing the past to the back of my mind until I drifted off into unconsciousness.