Without Knowing (When You Wake Book 1) (11 page)

“I don’t know.”

“You do. You came up here and what?”

“It was nothing.” The pain from his hand squeezing mine registered on a delay. I was still, afraid to move.

“It was something for you to think Caleb would tolerate your actions tonight.”

The bone snapping in my hand was enough for me to cave. “We kissed, but I pushed him off.” I fell to the ground following Seth’s release. I cradled my hand unsure of how to explain this away.

The crashing of my lamps against the walls startled me. I crawled towards the door trying to stay out of view as he stomped through the room finding every breakable and shattering them.

“How many times?” He pulled me to my feet by my hair.

“What?”

Pieces of the picture frames from the fireplace mantle cut into my feet as he repeated his question, “How many times did you and Caleb…”

“We’ve only kissed the one time.” Even I didn’t believe me, but I needed it to be true.

“You’re lying!” He pulled my hair tighter.

“You kissed me,” I pointed out.

“You’re comparing me to him?” I could hear the hurt in his voice.

“No, but I pushed him away.”

“You stopped me, shockingly I may add.”

“Why did you kiss me?” I tried to distract him. He was becoming irrational.

“Eva, I’m in love with you.” He released my hair.

The pain shooting in my hand begged to differ.

“Say something.” He pulled me into his arms.

I couldn’t respond. How was I supposed to respond to that?

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

He kissed me, squeezing my face, forcing the tiny cuts to hurt. It was brief. He pulled away as if succeeding in something, but this time was unlike outside in the yard. I slapped him across his face with my good hand. He kissed me again, harder. Maliciously, he pushed me backwards and I landed unguided on the desk.

His face pushed against me as I pushed against his chest. His hands moved around my body with a sense of randomness and urgency. His hands weren’t kind, but vicious as he tore at my skin with his nails. A
gentle
caress left soreness under my skin.

I was fighting a brick wall, a man made of stone. My thoughts were scattered by his actions, my body flailing for release. Then my knee met him in his groin, rejecting him once more.

Seth slide down the front of my body, shrinking to his knees. I struggled to unlock the door with my one good hand trying to remember when he locked it. The panic flooding my chest made it harder to breathe as the sudden force of his hand around the back of my neck pulled me back to the ground.

His face swirled in and out of view, briefly catching the movements of his lips. I worried for my hearing when his words didn’t reach my ears. It’s only when the delayed high pitched whistle sound starts shrieking on a constant do I wonder if this is permanent.

The use of my hair as a handle to bring me to my feet leaves my voice begging for my release to fall on deaf ears. His large arm around my waist hoisted me up against his hip. My flailing arms and legs only weaken me as he threw me into the closet.

I pulled at the racks of clothes creating distance and layers for him to dig through. My crablike movements led me to dead ends in the large closet.

I could feel the scratchy and burning in my throat only now realizing I had been screaming. The splatter of wetness against the wall as he hit my face sent another shock through me. 

Every forceful tug at the hand he broke, every repeated punch to the same cheek, every kiss along my jaw he enjoyed, was another reminder that I was in the closet with a man named Seth.

The more I fought to rectify my entrapment, the more I screamed to awaken Seth from his madness, the more he came back at me more brutal than before. The razor blade he pulled from his pocket revealed my weakness, one he took advantage of by tearing open my shirt, nicking me just under my left breast.

He stood over me, razor blade between his teeth, fumbling with his zipper. I shook, flashing to the man in the snow. My insides burned from the acid. My mind exploded from my inner voice shouting for control.

Then I remembered the girl lying in the snow, egging on the man threatening to take her life, her innocence. She was beaten and still, I could feel her strength in the midst of that.

I was weak. I was afraid. I was beaten.

My foot shot up, connecting with his groin. Seth landed against the back wall popping out the empty drawers, some landing on the floor.

I yanked open the closet door and struggled to my feet. I neared freedom when I felt his hands on my throat. He pulled me back into the closet and threw me on the beauty table, my body and head cracking the glass.

I closed my eyes hoping the spinning would stop. Closing my eyes only sped up the spinning. I didn't know which made me more nauseous, the spinning feeling or his face watching mine. His lips moved, but I still couldn’t hear him.

I didn’t choose this horrible unstoppable ride that couldn’t just go around like a Merry-Go-Round. Trying to turn myself off, to distance myself, to find a happier place, I was asking for the impossible at this point.

I was nearing the end of my strength when that familiar sharp Pull sent me to my emotional escape. I braced myself snapping my eyes open. The brightness raised my dry lips into a smile.

The crowds of people shuffling through the streets, cars piling towards every direction but the sound of rush was faint. I was relieved by the scenery’s constant. I enjoyed the miles of mom and pop shops surrounded by sky-high buildings. It was a sight, the sky.

Giggles from the park became my serenity over the fainted hustle and bustle of the busy bodies. I lay on a bench near a mermaid diving into a fountain of water, to stare up at the sky. If this was the closest thing to happiness, I was going to enjoy it, even if tall buildings framed it.

A rumble from the ground flickered my sunshine into the darkness of Seth’s fists. Although faint, his words toppled over the laughter in the park and the cab drivers honking to get by. His sweat dripping on my face went unnoticed, but his anger couldn’t be missed.

Ashes fell from the sky, building on the concrete. The ground began to burn, the bottoms of my bare feet blackened and for a moment, the flickering stopped; the room was still; the rumble was silent; and I could place blame on the rumbling for my return.

Frozen in midair, was my only chance to fight back against Seth. I hoped for all the time in the world but had no so luck. My punches didn’t weaken Seth, but another kick to my face made it hard to find my arms. As Seth dropped on top of me, I felt the rumble return, teasing me, ashes falling around me. The ache in my stomach diminished the pain from the broken ribs.

The rumbling grew to an earthquake making it harder to breathe. The wave of the ground shot through my back sending a fiery ache along my spine.

I waited for another Pull to take me back. I wanted to avoid the horror. I wanted not to see his face. I wanted my punches to hurt him as much as his hurt me. I wanted the fight in me to be stronger. I wanted Caleb to have listened to me. I wanted Seth to stop. I wanted to disappear. I wanted to be swimming in the pool. I wanted to be outside by the gazebo. I wanted to go home. I wanted my mom and dad.

But I was here, in the moment, living every minute of it. I could feel every bit of the pain he caused - tenfold. It was his breath against my skin, his drool against my chest, the stinging and throbbing at every cut, bruise, and broken bone that made me want to fall off that cliff all over again. But it was the other thing, that thing that meant he beat me into submission, that thing that I could never get back,
that
was what made me want to die.

I wanted to die.

I wanted him to die.

Then he finished, breathing hard against me. Pressing me into the floor, his heaviness pinched my lungs. For a moment, I was relieved I couldn’t breathe. If I stayed perfectly still, I would just float into nothingness. Seth’s breathing stopped abruptly.

Suddenly, he pushed himself onto his knees, his stone cold eyes burning holes into me. My limbs couldn’t move or cover enough of me to matter. Being bashful at this point was almost redundant.

His face wore this look of horror. His eyes were in a wide stare, his mouth gaped open, his hands ripping at his own hair. He tried to say something, but I still couldn’t hear. Then tears fell from his eyes. He pulled me into his chest, my body unresponsive to my multiple requests to grab the knife at his side.

He trembled around me, rocking back and forth. His tears dropped along my naked shoulder, more of his fluids soaked into my skin. He pulled back, wrapping his hands around my face. His lips spoke my name, the saliva stuck to his lips as they moved with no sound.

He was sorry.

He didn’t mean to.

He made a mistake.

The drift came, taking me to a hole of black, hopefully where I would stay forever.

Chapter 11

Four Days Unbroken

I woke to a dim light flickering in front of me. It was small, distant, but enough to annoy me. 

He was not here.

I was still in the closet where he left me, burdened by the disgust that occurred in here. I army crawled out of the closet with one arm as quickly as I could, unable to feel anything from the waist down.

I was still alive.

My eyes strained with the room brighter than most mornings. Every curtain of every window had been torn down one way or another. Pieces of the three lamps in the front part of my room coated the throw rug near the fireplace. The mirror Caleb first handed me after my escape from the death cocoon, lie on the floor near the desk.

I stared at the desk for a moment. I expected to feel differently about that desk. I expected to feel differently about me. I half expected to feel abnormal. I even expected to be different, new skin, tortured skin. It was an odd feeling not knowing how to feel.

My body, on the other hand, wasn’t such a hard code to crack. My body had all sorts of feelings. A dictionary would have all the right answers. The stare down with the desk pushed random thoughts into my head. I was unprepared.

The tears escaped my eyes as I used the desk to get to my feet. Needles pricked at my legs merely telling me I could still feel them. I couldn’t physically make it out of the room let alone the house, but I couldn’t stand here all day. I gathered my strength and moved slowly towards the bay window. I wrapped my arm with the injured hand around my broken ribs. I knew it wouldn’t hold me together, but it was easier than saying I didn’t try.

My mind told me to avoid the pieces of lamp I was about to step on, but my body refused to respond, or couldn’t. There didn’t seem to be much left of me to hurt.

I wasn't in any kind of hurry. If I thought there was more for him to take there would be no hesitation. No, I didn't have to run. He took everything there needed to be taken; the remnants lay in the closet.

More tears dropped from my eyes at the thought of his success. Drool poured from my mouth as I found it hard to control my jaw or tongue. Swallowing and breathing through my nose weren’t the easy tasks they should have been.

I pulled the only untouched comforter from under my bed as the sheets and mattress had been cut apart, fuzz and springs exposed. I continued to move away from my bedroom door, and the dark hole, and reached the bay window. The sun was just barely visible in the distance. It often lingered in the distance.

As I pulled the large quilt from the oak chest, I wanted to take the chest with me, but I could hardly find enough strength to carry the quilt. I dragged the colorful quilt over the wreckage scattered throughout my path back towards the bathroom.

I stood for a moment in the center of the destruction. The flat screen TV that hung above the fireplace was now laying half burnt on the logs. The inappropriate clothing from the closet laid torn in piles around the room, some stained with blood. I suspected that was another message about how one should behave in the company of men.

The automatic lights burned my eyes. I buried my face in the door locking it. I slid the light dimmers as low as they would go. The romantic feel sickened me, but I dealt with it. I fumbled for the towel stand next to the door looking for the largest towel. 

I covered one mirror after the next with the towel, breaking each one, avoiding my reflection the best I could. I gathered as many pieces as I could while keeping the room free of debris. It was the closest to safe I would feel.

Since I arrived here - the moment I woke up - I hadn’t felt much of that. I was still in a new place. I didn't know how things worked before I ended up in a new place, or why I stayed, but I knew it wasn't for this.

I have these memories or visions; Pulls to the past and present and future. They’ve shown me many things, but this...
this is what you choose to leave out. You couldn’t have warned me about all of this? What good are you to me? What good is any of it if I can’t make sense of you?

I shook my head, shoving the comforter and multicolored quilt in the large tub. I wanted to crawl in after it, feel the coolness of the tub against my naked body only to find warmth in the blankets wrapped around me.

I walked into the shower, delaying my only means of comfort. The frightening temperature I allowed the water to beat against my body should have scorched my skin, burning the dirty off me. There were many layers I would need to peel off to unfeel what I was feeling.

I sat under the stream, the heat burned my cuts, the pressure punched my bruises, and the broken bones suffered uncomfortably as I tucked my knees into my chest.

I looked at the drain filling up with loose hair, the water turning a reddish color. I was grateful to that drain for taking my filth somewhere far away. That would have to be torn out when all was said and done. The room would have to be burned down as well, of course.

I thought about lighting the match and watching the closet crumble, but even after, the air would still house his breath. The ghost would just be free. I couldn’t stay in this room even if the room was made to look like the gazebo. No face-lift could hide those kinds of wrinkles.

I reached for the soap and wash cloth, my toes were the first to be cleaned, followed by the bottoms of my grated feet, heels, ankles. I scrubbed every part of me as hard as I could; ignoring the pain and torture, I was putting myself through. The roughness of the cloth along my skin sent bellows exploding from my mouth, my ears barely hearing what my throat felt. Tears mixed with the water cascading down upon me.

Then it was over.

I ignited nothing but more pain as I scrubbed myself dry. It was then I knew I wanted to run. My heavy eyelids begged to differ, requesting my presence in the tub, to rest, to not think.

To forget.

I relaxed finding comfort in the solitude of the tiny room. I forgot how little I was sleeping. Insomnia must have been playing games with me. I hadn’t sleep well since Seth had returned, mostly in anticipation of what was to come. After facing the monster under my bed, I actually wanted to sleep.

An unexplainable pain moved through my body causing speedy thoughts and prevented my requested sleep. I tightened the quilt around me and the thoughts of the last few days were replaced. A silent calming feeling washed over me.

I threw my arm over my face to block the golden brightness blinding me.

“Don’t go to sleep on me again, Eva,” a voice nearby spoke.

“Oh, Chayton. How can I not sleep? It’s so relaxing out here.” I stretched my arms and legs.

“We nearly got caught last time we fell asleep out here.” The boy leaned on his elbow cutting into an apple.

“Why do you always have to hide under the tree up there?” I rolled onto my stomach.

“I’m not hiding.” He smiled. “Just enjoying the view,” he said looking down at me.

I crawled on my hands and knees from the bottom of the hill to the top where Chayton lounged.

“Can I ask you something?” I snatched the piece of apple he just sliced from the quilt.

“Maybe.” He looked at me playfully.

“When we get married, do you think we’ll be able to leave the Colony?”

He stopped cutting his apples and sat up to face me. “I would love to think so and I hope I can make that happen for you sooner rather than later.”

“They’ll want us to have a family soon after the wedding.” I traced the patterns on the quilt with my fingers.

Chayton’s hands wrapped around mine. “We have a home waiting for us. You know as well as I do that the Colony won’t stand in the way of that.”

“My last Pull has given us a little family someday.” I rubbed my belly, smiles across both of our faces.

“See, we will have all the happiness in the world. He can’t stop us. Our children will be safe.” His hand clasped over mine.

“We have a ways before we see our happy ending.”

“I always hated it when the books say The END. Endings are merely written for that story. Lives continue after the last page, after the credits roll. And we my dear, have only just begun.” He kissed me gently cradling my face in his hands. Our lips met, the air shifting, but it wasn’t like the world stop moving around us. For that moment, it was as if we were frozen in the moment, just us. Accepting of the little time, we had as this, open and free to touch, kiss, smile, and care as we are.

“Let’s stay here forever.” I curled up in his arms.

“That’s a plan.” He rubbed my shoulder.             

“Do you think things will ever get easier for us?” I asked staring up at his face.

“You tell me, you’re the Vatic.”

“I hate that name.” I sat up retracing the patterns.

“I’m sorry.” He brushed my cheek.

“You didn’t give it to me.”

“But I know better than to use it.”

“Do you think I’ll be one forever?”

“Forever is a long time. It’s a long time for us, anyway.”

“I don’t think that it’s fair I be burden with them.”

“I don’t either.”

“But if not me, another.”

“Who says if not you, another? Why does any burden have to pick anyone? I don’t know if it’s selfish or selfless to believe you are taking on a burden over someone else. I love you but you aren’t the only one who’s effected by them,” his sadness showed in his voice and on his face.

“You’re right.”

“I’m not but thank you for letting me believe so. I’m just exhausted…and it’s nothing compared to yours…”

“Stop. What have we said about that?”

“Share in the struggle, each struggle is just as important.” His eyes stared into mine. “Oh, Eva, my Viva.”

“I don’t like thinking you’re taking everything on yourself.”

“I can’t do anything else.”

“You can love me.” I smiled wrapping my arms around Chayton.

“I do that already.” His lips kissed the top of my nose.

“Well, then. I think you’ve done far more than most men.” I pushed him onto his back, straddling him.

“I have been working awfully hard.” He lay with his hands behind his head.

I lifted his shirt and kissed his ridged hard stomach gently. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were training again.” I continued to kiss him along the seam of his pants and along the outline of each ab.

“Just doing enough to stay in shape.”

“Magena?” I stopped.

“She’s been teaching me.”

“I know,” I said matter-of-factly.

“Of course you do.” He rolled his eyes at me.

“When are you going to learn, I know more than you do?” I giggled.

“I wasn’t hiding it from you.” He shook his head.

“I know, I just worry you’re taking chances.” I pulled his shirt down and climbed off. I rested my head on his uncushioned stomach.

“I told you I would do whatever I could to get you out of here sooner.” He combed my hair with his fingers.

I followed the branches of the tree from the trunk out to the tips and back again. The leaves were a bright green, brighter by the golden wheat fencing in our apple tree.

“If a Pull tells me you’re in danger I’m cutting you off, buddy.” I poked him in the pit of his underarm.

“Oh yeah.” He whipped around me pinning me to the ground. His fingers ventured around my stomach, jabbing me and moving around my ribs, tickling me.

I escaped his torturous hands and fled into the wheat fields only to be tickled on the palms of my hands by the sticks of wheat. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me into him.

“My Viva.”

His warmth and smile responded to my laughter and freedom.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The underwhelming feeling of the return to the bathroom left me woozy and nauseous. It was an abrupt return; one I would remember. I wished I knew how to bring on a Pull at will, drown in that memory.

A memory! I remembered something, someone.

His face, he was the other little boy in the picture…
Chayton
. The butterflies held in my stomach even as the pounding at my door grew louder.

Shit!
I wasn’t supposed to be here when he got back. I didn’t want to be here when he got back. I wanted to be long gone.

I could hear him yelling at me through the door. My hearing had returned, but it was like listening through a glass. I didn’t expect Caleb back so soon.

“You’re weren’t supposed to be back until Saturday,” I managed.

“It is Saturday. What the hell did you do?” He pounded on the door, shaking the knob.

Four days had passed. I slid down the door still wrapped in my quilt; I leaned against my barrier frightened. How many days did I lay in the closet? How many days did I lay in the tub? Where was Seth? Where were my followers? I played with sarcasm and then scolded myself for blaming them for Seth’s actions.

“Open the fucking door, Eva!”

I wish I weren’t afraid. I wish I were strong. I felt like I could be strong. I had been through tough stuff and I was still standing. Maybe I wasn’t but I could be. I could stand and be tough.