Runaway With Me, Alice

Into My Imagination

"Charliegh..." My face is blank. No emotion shines in my eyes. I blink, but nothing changes. I recognize the voice, I'd know it anywhere and my mind is screaming at me to respond somehow. I can feel him looking at me, a glimmer of hope in his soft, gentle voice.


"Charliegh..." He tries again. My expression unchanging.


"Charliegh.."


Suddenly the therapist stands in front of me, nudging Bill out of the way. He steps back, giving her room. I blink again.


"Charliegh, you need to come back to us. I am going to count to 3, and if you can hear me, please respond. Okay? One, Two, Three."


I hear the sharp snap of her fingers, the sound causing me to tense. I know it's her fingers, but my mind is throwing a entirely different image at me. And image that can relate to that sound. I tense up, feeling the arms around tighten their hold.


Please, daddy, no..." I whisper.


My mind throws image after image at me. All I can see is his face. Feel his hands on me, touching me where no man of his standing should touch. I thrash against Tom's hold, wanting to break free. His hands roam my small, fragile body. I can't move, I feel paralyzed by him. By his simple presence. Fear runs through me, making me gulp in breath after breath. The inevitable runs my blood cold. I can feel myself slowly begin to hyperventilate, loosing my self control.


My mind is screaming at me, the tone high and frantic, to get a grip and snap out of it. To not let myself fall so deep I can't come back from my living nightmare. The voices that were once so clear are fading to a crackling, fuzzy noise between my ears.


I fight with myself, with my mind, with my nightmare before a sudden pinch takes me by surprise. My body slowly weakens, falling limp in the tight grip around me.


Tom's arms loosen, but never let go. Bills' gentle arms soon join Toms', holding me like I'm breakable.


"Why is she like this?"


Tom's voice is so weak. I can hear the threat of tears.


"Its from the abuse she has dealt. The poor girl has been through more than anyone should ever experience. It's a miracle she has not been committed."


The moment those words slip from her mouth, I hear Bill.


"I- We won't let that happen. We want our friend back, Doctor. Isn't there anything we can do?"


"Well, just be there is really all you can do. Even though she may not say it, you two mean a lot to her. Its obvious in her body language when your names are mentioned."


I feel Bill's lip twitch against my skin, a small smile forming where the frown once sat. I want to talk to them, but I'm immobilized. I allow myself to feel comfort in their touches. The fear once gripping me slips away as they rock me. Soothing me in their strong, gentle arms. I feel myself falling into a peaceful sleep. Its been so long since sleep felt so good.


~ ~ ~ ~


I wake with a start. My body clammy from cold sweat. I run my hands along my body, feeling for marks. But nothing. Just smooth, soft skin. I sigh and lay back down. My breathing slows and my heart beat goes back to a normal pace. I pull my covers off me, feeling the need to shower. I feel dirty, so dirty. I keep feeling his hands touching me. I walk into my bathroom, not bothering to flick the light on. Instead, I grab a candle and some matches.


I strike one and light the candle. The room filling with a calming light, and it instantly soothes me. I turn around and turn the faucet to hot, allowing the water a moment to heat up. As I wait, I begin to pull each article of clothing from me sweat coated body. Scrunching my nose in disgust as each layer is removed.


Once completely nude, I check again for marks. But I, once again, find nothing of that sort on my flesh. I turn my attention back to the, now steaming, water and quickly turn the round nozzle back. Adding in the cold water to cool the temperature. I wait a few moments for the water to reach temperature before pulling the plug to start the shower. The water sprays down, splashing little droplets out at me, sending little flesh bumps across me. I stand there in a daze, watching the small droplets run down my skin. Leaving the wet trail in their paths.


I shake my head, pulling myself from my sudden daze, and step in. Shuddering as my body adjusts to the changing temperature. I make quick work of washing myself, scrubbing my flesh to rid myself of the disgusting feeling covering me.

I can feel my skin burn from the aggressiveness in my touch. Choosing to ignore it. As soon as I feel that I am clean, I step out and wrap a towel around my thin body. Blowing out the soft candle still flickering on my sink.


I listen to my feet patter against the tile flooring of my bathroom, before meeting the soft carpeting of my bedroom The fog from the bathroom billowing out and swirling in with the gentle breeze. I watch as the steam creates light designs before drifting out my cracked balcony doors. Disappearing into the sun lite sky. As I loose myself in the fog, I realize that I feel at ease. Calm. Relaxed. My mind isn't swarming with ill thoughts and horrid memories. Just blank with calm. A small smile flickers onto my lips and I find myself determined to keep smiling.


I take my time picking out my clothing for the day, wanting to keep that light calming feeling with in me. I meander over to my cracked balcony doors. Peaking out into the soft sun light. Take a deep breath of the town air and holding it in my lungs. Savoring the moment for all it's worth. Locking it in my mind and in my body. I exhale slowly, my eyes flickering with kind memories of my childhood. Of my best friends. Of my old life. The life I long to have back. I grasp the last memory before it fades, decided that that is the place I need to be. I turn on my heels and slide my flip flops onto my feet. Knowing that it's now or never for me to finally break free of my mind.


I grasp the rusted, rickety gate that leads to the playground. The place that holds more memories then any child could count. I push it open, listening to the metal grind and protest with my movement. My eyes sweep over the old playground equipment, letting the pleasant memories wash over me. Sending a shudder down my spine. My fingers graze the sliding board, sliding my hand down the tarnished childhood toy.


I wander over to the swing set, giving the first swing in reach a push. Watching it sway in the wind. I picture myself on that same swing, tender age of 9, laughing and squealing in delight as Bill stands behind me, his 9 year old self, laughing along with me as he pushed me.


I remained in front of the swing long after it had come to a stop and allow myself to become lost in the memories of the playground. As I bring myself out of the memory, a epiphany dawns on me. I can no longer hold this resentment towards Tom and Bill. That everything they had done was to help me. To save me. To protect me. I inhale sharply, my eyes flooding with hot tears as I finally come to terms with my relationship. I needed, and wanted, my best friends back. I needed them to know that I no longer hated them for finding their happiness.


I turn quickly and hurry to the gate, knowing what I now needed to do to save myself, and them. My heart hammered in my ribcage and I grunted with each increased breath. This was what I've needed all along. To say the words they needed to hear. To finally say I forgive you.


~ ~ ~


I jog up the sidewalk, passing my house, and making a sharp turn onto the small steps that led to the front porch of the Kaulitz residence. As my feet my contact with the wooden front porch, did I stop to catch my breath. I panted and gasped, drawing air into my lungs. Preparing myself for this moment. The moment I know, not only I have been waiting for, but Tom and Bill have been waiting for.

I take the final steps to the front door, lifting my enclosed fist to knock. Before my fist can make contact with the solid wood door, a smile, true and genuine, flickers onto my lips. Lighting up my face the way it used to when I was a child. I take one more reassuring breath and bring my fist down, knocking on the front door of my childhood best friends. On the door of the only safety I've ever felt.


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Comments:

cinlaw
Apr. 29, 2011 at 10:28 PM

Loving it...time for a bit of healing.

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