Lock and Key

Chapter 5

"How are you?"

"I'm sorry that this happened to you."

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"How old are you?"

"What's your name?"

Panic. Dread. Anxious. Petrified. Are the only words that I feel at that moment. Roder keeps coming closer closer closer until he's nearly in my secret space. Too close too close too close. He's getting too close for my liking and I can't find letters, words to string together to form sentences. I can't make him stop. I can't make him stop. My breath hitches and begins to quicken. Short inhales. Short exhales.

He notices and halts to a stop. He looks me over. Terrified.

"Are you ok?" He asks another question. No more questions. No more no more no more. I beg of you, please, leave me alone. I need Ryder. I need safe. I need him.

Please.

He takes a breath. Takes a step back. My breath slows, just a little. He notices and takes another step back. I hide inside myself, waiting for him to leave. The only person I want to come through that door is Ryder and Ryder only. He needs to understand that. Has to.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to meet you and see for myself why my son is so," He looks up at the ceiling, moving his hands in circles, "infatuated with you," He lets out a small sigh, putting his hands back down to his sides. I don't know when, but my breathing has come to a steady rhythm, without Ryder.

"He talks about you all the time you know. Well, whenever we see him. Which is hardly ever since he is always up here with you, chatting into the night. I told him we should call the police, but he informed me that you would be too scared of the uniform and try to run again. Which I presume to be true as to the way you are cowering at my presence. Which I am deeply sorry for. Help me to understand how to help you," His voice is low, gruff. Concern interlaced in his words. I can't trust him, not anyone. Not anymore.

"I'm begging you," he gets down on his knees, "please, say something, anything," His voice cracked, so broken. How could I do that to someone? Get them to beg for my words. Break for them. I do not understand I can't comprehend that someone wants to know me, to know my story.

But what if it is just to exploit me or some other reason in which I am too naive to think of? I can't risk it. But I also can't stand to see him on the verge of breaking because of me. I promised myself that I would not let anyone get hurt, not ever again. I am not going to start now.

I promised him.

"My name is Andrea and I am 17 years old," I whispered. His head picked up and looked at me in disbelief. Disbelief that his begging worked and I had said something to someone other than to his son. He stammers with words that I cannot understand. An entire language I will not live long enough to learn.

"Um, I, wow, um, hi Andrea it's um, it's nice to finally hear your voice. Do you think you um, could uh, answer some more of my uh, questions?" He seemed embarrassed for being a grown man and stuttering like a child. It makes me want to laugh. I don't laugh anymore. I give a simple nod and he starts to gain his composure, trying to come up with some questions I would be willing to answer.

"Andrea, before my son found you, where were you?" Rodger questioned. It was a simple question. Yet, I couldn't think of anything to say to him. It's not that I didn't want to, it was more like that I have no clue where I was. I still have no idea. I don't know what state or city or road or house number.

I will forever remain clueless.

"I don't know. I had been walking for weeks. I needed to get away. I need to get away. Can I please go? I am not safe here. I will never be safe. Never feel safe. Never be free, ever." My sentences click together like building blocks and I can't seem to stop. Stop. Slow down. Cease. Stall. Again again again in my head do they spin and spin and spin until that's all that fills my thoughts. Yet, I defy. I want to disregard it. To tell someone, anyone about anything and everything. I want to trust him. To take that leap of faith and just dive right into the sun, into the brightness, and never look back at the dark inside the shadows.