Kept

Consider

I remember the day I was rescued.

I was barely conscious, hanging on to what I had left. I heard the echo of sirens.

Here, I never heard that, or anything really. Just the sound of my screams and his laughter bouncing against the walls in a sick mix of pain and delight.

But he stopped. And he listened.

There was a moment of calm, and then, panic ensued. It was written on his face. Fear. The same fear I'd felt when he'd taken me here. For a moment, I was so sastified.

It felt so good to know he felt what I did, the same suffocation, the same anxiety, the same feeling of utter defeat.

But it passed quickly, because he picked up a knife. He didn't like guns. Didn't use them on me. But knives....oh, he loved them.

He gripped it in his palm and pulled me up from the ground. There was no point in tying me down, I was too weak to do anything.

He put the blade to my throat as the police bashed through the door. They came flooding down, pointing their guns at him and yelling with aggression in their voices.

Let her go, they screamed. He looked at each one frantically, like a madman. And he whispered something into my ear, something I'll never forget.

Something that haunted me every single night. And I still can't say it out loud. I can't take saying it in my head either. So I simply forget it.

I stare at the bandages on my wrist. I was so tired. Tired of being rescued. Tired of being saved.

Tired of being tortured by a memory that I couldn't quite grasp for the fear of feeling the pain again.

They say you're supposed to feel safe in hospitals. But I don't. I know when I close my eyes, it'll still be there.

He'll still be there. I wish there was someone I could talk to. I would have only one question for them, someone who'd seen horrific things.

One question I prayed they could answer.

How long until I can close my eyes and he won't be there, staring back at me?

It was the answer I needed like air, the one thing that could put me to peace. But until then, I was in a state of unrest. A broken, shattered place.

I tried ending it. But it didn't work. The razors worked, but the people didn't. They found me. The doctors said just in time. But I regretted it.

If there was one place I wouldn't find him, it was in death.

I was so tired... And I'd done enough for this town. Too much. I'd been the hero, and though I don't regret it, I wish they'd let me go.

Let me have my day. Hadn't I given enough? Couldn't they just let me have what I wanted? Couldn't they just let me sleep?

No. They couldn't. And sometimes, I hated them for it. Now, all that was left was shame tacked onto my fear and my suffering.

Another weight I had to bear. I could see their glances now. Look at that girl, with the bandages on her wrist. The one saved the town.

How pitiful. How little she's become.

I could hear their thoughts now, see their stares as I walked down the street. I couldn't look my parents in the eye anymore, couldn't give a straight answer.

My friends were worried about me. And I understood. My best friend Hally, was the one who caught me. I was unconcious when she found me.

But I think I can see it. Imagine it.

She walked in, and the water was red in the tub. And I was sinking at the bottom. Happily, I was gone.

I could see the look on her face. That was only thing, probably, that I hated about it. Leaving them behind.

But I guess, in a way, I was gone when they'd pulled me out of that basement.

The door opened. Hally and Russ were there. They came in with worried looks on their faces.

Russ hadn't slept, you could tell. His curly locks were messy because he runs his hands through them when he's upset.

The color of his eyes matched the skin of his tired bags. A dark grey.

Hally's forehead was crinkled. Her smile disappeared, and the spark you usually in her was gone.

These past few months had taken a tole on both of them. Hally had a piece of paper in her hand. She played with the edges nervously before handing it to me.

It was a card. A professional one. "His name is Thomas. He can help you, sweetie." A shrink. Of course.

"Please, I know what you're thinking, Mandy," said Russ, his voice broken.

"And what am I thinking, Russ?"

"That shrink's are a load of shit."

I scoffed, letting my reaction speak for itself.
"Please. Do it for us?"

Oh. Hally knew that would be the thing that convinced me. I'd shown my hand, I guess.

I let myself go through copious amounts of torture for the sake of my school. Everything I did, was for others.

I'd made it my philosophy. But my vision on that had been impaired. I no longer saw it that way. I guess he'd taken the only thing that mattered.

My fire. My spirit. It was broken. And so was I.

But her pleading gnawed at my soul. They left. I still kept the card. I pondered. I had nothing left to take. Nothing to lose.

So either nothing happened.... Or I got pieces back again. Pieces of myself. Fragments of who I used to be.

A few hours of therapy for a few months was worth that. I read over the card.

The print and border were a soft, baby blue. The name read 'Thomas Marvow'. It gave a phone number, an address.
I made my decision.