Cheated and Pregnant (Editing)

45.

Sweat was pouring off of my body. My throat sore from all the screaming. The cover I went to sleep with is on the floor after my tossing and turning.

Putting a shaking hand over racing heart hoping that it doesn't jump out of my chest. It's just a dream. I tell myself. He's not here to hurt me anymore. He can't hurt me like he used to not from where he is.

My heart was at its normal pace but I was still shaking. I hate that he still haunts me so that I can't close my eyes without seeing his face. I blow out a breath through my mouth looking at the time. It was a little past three in the morning.

The nightclothes is sticking to the skin leaving the cold to seep in crawling down my spine. I closed my eyes taking another deep breath. My breath hitched seeing those blue eyes but when I blinked they were gone. I switched on the bedside lamp, it immediately chases away all the darkness pushing them back to where they belong.

I find my phone on the nightstand. It unlocks with a soft click. The dialing tone disturbed the silence of the room. He picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?" His voice was husky from sleep. "Rosie, what's wrong?" He asked the sleep disappeared from his voice, now he sounds very concerned. I felt so bad that I had waked him up knowing he had work in the morning and I'm adding unnecessary stress to his daily one.

"He won't leave me alone," I sobbed. "He's everywhere, tormenting me, mocking me," I rumbled brokenly. "And I'm so tired Derek, I am," I did give him a chance to talk.

"I'm so tired of living like this, I thought I could do this and forget but I can't, I know I can't, he's just everywhere," I was shaking both from the dream and the chillness of the sweat clothes clinging to my body. "I know it's not real and he's dead Derek but I can still feel his hands touching me, his voice whispering and it just hurts a lot and I just want it to stop."

"Please make it stop," I whispered tearing up. I was afraid to get out of bed to even take off these clothes.

"Rosie you're going to be okay I promise," he tried to reach to me to get me out of this stupor that I was in.

"No, I'm not because he won't leave me alone. He's always there, watching, waiting to strike."

And he will strike. He will want until I'm happy and everything is going my way before he rips the ground from under my feet and I'm left fighting for air. I can't breathe when he's around cause he always squeezes the air out of me.

I can never be whole not again when he's around cutting me in half. I know he loves it, he finds happiness in my pain and he does it in the more cruel way when I think I'm strong and I'll be able to take him on.

I wish to prove him wrong. To let him know that he has no control of me. And that's it a wish because I can never be strong enough to fight him even within the afterlife.

He's dead. Yet still, I feel like he is alive. Trying to drag me down with him. I try to tell myself that it's just a dream but I know it's a memory. A memory that still has me feeling all the feeling, the touch of his calloused hands on my bruised skin, the breaking of my heart over and over again, my screams that leave my throat dry, my lips crack dried from thirst to escape even if that escape meant my death. I didn't mind as long I wasn't receiving his hits or under him.

I wanted so much to die then and as selfish as it sounds I want to now. But I could never die no matter how much he beat me to oblivion and I think I'm not going to make it into tomorrow but somehow I found myself seeing through swollen eyes that immediately spring to tears realizing that I'm not dead cursed to live another day in hell when I just wanted to escape.