Chapter 1

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"You can run but I will always find you."

His words echo in my mind as I stand scared stiff, unknowing of where to turn.

Hands trembling, I am unable to bring myself to move. The regret of the path not taken washes over me in waves. It fast becomes evident that the path I had chosen was the final nail on my coffin. As the prospect of death hovers, I am at my most alert, conscious of everything around me, aware of even the slightest of movements. The hairs on my skin stand firmly upright, not from the gentle hiss of the autumn breeze but the fear of what is to come.

I am trapped in the gloom of the forest, helplessly awaiting my demise. My heart thumps vigorously against my ribcage, as if seeking an escape from its confines, just as I seek to escape my unfortunate fate. The sounds of twigs creaking from impact reach my alert sound canals, signalling that the inevitable has finally come into play.

He appears in front of me, as poise as a noble, but looks can be deceiving. I had had the misfortune of learning that the hard way. Concealed below the expensive suit, the cool demeanour and that sickening smirk, lies a monster. The forest falls eerily silent, only the dangerous thumping of my heart is audible. No words are exchanged between us. I merely stand rooted in place, glaring at a man I once thought I knew. The one man I had hoped to never cross paths with again.

Sick Sadistic Devil.

He smiles maniacally, finding pleasure in my dismay. Seeing the fear in my eyes and knowing that I am helpless at his hand, gives him a sense of power, a sense of ownership over me. The devil preys on the weak, using fear to weaken his prey. Even with the potent fear coursing through my veins, I cannot bring myself to contain the hatred I feel towards the man before me, a man whom was once the centre of my universe. A man I had once loved with all my heart.

Love has turned sour. Now all that remains is a burning hatred, a searing uncontainable rage. Most of all the cursing fear of the monster he has become. I study his every move, awaiting his attack. Face as cold as stone, devoid of any humane emotion. He is a true depiction of the devil, poise and alluring on the exterior but bearing a dark and tarnished interior. A soulless shell of a man.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he advances, silently stalking towards me. My mind screams at me to take flight, my every nerve ending alert at the danger before me. Yet my limbs fail me. Held hostage by my own body, I am unable to bring myself to move. I am a mouse caught in his trap. The only thing that's left to do is to accept my fate and prepare for my inescapable death.
At fell swoop, he reaches inside the back pocket of his slacks retrieving a dagger, intricate in design. Had my life not been in dire threat, I would have taken the time to appreciate its craftsmanship. But time was not in my favour nor was destiny.

I peer into his empty brown orbs hoping to find even a glimmer of hope; a soul I find not. There lies no trace of remorse in his eyes. They are merely deep pools of darkness. All my fears dissipate as I finally make peace with my fate. I would not give him the satisfaction of hearing me beg for mercy. As he prepares to plunge the lethal weapon straight through what remains of my shattered heart, I am suddenly hauled into a gapping pit of darkness as the ground below cracks open swallowing me whole.

I jolt from my sleep, body shaking vigorously, still in a state of fright. Drawing in a shallow breath of relief, I wipe off the sweat beaded on my forehead taking deep breaths to calm my erratic heartbeat. It had only been a nightmare. My early teenage years had been plagued with night terrors like the one I had just woken from. It had gotten better over the years, more so when we moved. For a while it had seemed the nightmares had finally ceased, but it's evident that it had only been a brief desertion.

My bedroom door flies open as my mother darts into my room, having been awoken by the haunting screams that accompany her daughter's night terrors. Worry taints her beautiful features as her eyes land on my frail and frightened form. I loathe the fact that she holds herself accountable for the damage our past had done to me. I was only a little child when it all happened, undeserving of the horrors I had witnessed. Now I am forever scarred, robbed of a normal childhood and it seems she cannot help but bare the blame.

The night terrors serve as a constant reminder of our painful past, never fully allowing us to forget what we endured. It chips away at my heart every time I see her distraught over me. If only I could relinquish the regret that resurfaces every time she is robbed of sleep by my night terrors. She climbs into bed cradling me in her arms as one would an infant, wordlessly comforting me. They say a mother's touch is magical. Surely it must be so as I slowly find myself settling into a state of calm, instantly feeling much better.

She doesn't ask what the nightmare was about. She doesn't need to. They all take the same form. In each one I am back to being the terrified, helpless little child, confronting her darkest fear.

Him, the sheep that had turned wolf.

Soon after, Ben joins us, bringing with him hot chocolate and a batch of chocolate chip and marshmallow cookies, just as I like them. After a while I find myself laughing wholeheartedly at the jokes Ben keeps on cracking. Even Mother's mood seems to be improving. Ben is to me the closest thing I've had to a true father and the best thing that has ever happened to my mother. He completes her and her him. My mother has never been happier than she is in his presence and I couldn't be more grateful that they found their way to each other.

I was once naïve enough to believe in fairy tales and happy endings, thinking that the world was without evil. Reality hit and the notion of undying love became but a fantasy. Seeing the two of them now, I am convinced that true love does exist, although very rare to stumble upon. I sometimes find myself wishing to someday find that kind of unyielding love from a companion but the yearning fades just as quickly as it surfaces. Yet, beyond all the walls I have put up, there is a glimmer of hope, on the prospect of I too, at some point in my life, finding happiness and the irrevocable love I've only ever experienced from my mother. Love makes living in this cruel world slightly more bearable.

For the rest of the night I sleep peacefully, free of the darkness of my past which rakes terror in my mind and torments my sleep. It did not occur to me then, the drastic turn that my fate would take.

***

Author's note:
So this is the edited version. Still pretty similar to the former, major change arises from chapter 3. To everyone who commented that I should continue on with this story, I truly appreciate your comments and enthusiasm. This is for you.
Lots of love.

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