Chapter 51
Chapter 51
Lucy POV
My head was pounding when I woke up, I wished I didn’t wake up at all, the numbness worn away
leaving fear and humiliation. The moment I did everything smashed into me like a tonne of bricks
threatening to suffocate me, restricting my ability to breathe. I was never going to escape him, even
now when he can’t get to me he still haunts me, still lingers at the edge of my mind. Opening my eyes, I
find myself lying beside my mother who is asleep beside me on a bed that resembles my old one. It
even has the same matching comforter I had before my room was destroyed. I sit up on one elbow and
look around and realize I am in my old room. Everything back to the way it was before I left for school
in Avalon City.
It was like I stepped back in time before everything went to shit, a glimpse into my old life, a
glimpse of the person I once was. Now though I see my old life differently. Find the darkest parts of it
looming over me and I realize how naive and young I truly was nearly a year ago. Pictures of me
having fun with Mitchell when we went to the beach, and bowling hung on the walls. Mum had blown
those up and framed them. Photos of Rayan and I. Some of Ace and Tyson, it all seemed like a lifetime
ago as I spotted each one on the walls.
It's funny how it only takes one thing to ruin your essence. One thing to burn the light out of your
soul and dim the spark of life within you. Spending my early childhood in the facility was tough, horrific
and a brutal place to grow up in. But once I was freed, I thought that was the end of the suffering. I had
hopes and plans and was excited for my future and to experience the world to its fullest. The pictures
held hope while I now felt nothing but hopeless and exposed.
Growing up in that place was solitude, loneliness, and hopelessness stepping out was
experiencing everything for the first time. The way fresh air smelt, how the breeze felt on my skin, the
feel of the earth under your bare feet was all new to me and I was ecstatic at my newfound freedom.
Sure that place sometimes haunts me still, the memories forever ingrained in my head yet I was able to
disassociate them from the life I had outside that place, separate it from me and allow myself to feel
safe for once.
But Mr Tanner ruined that sense of safety. It took years of counselling and years of occupational
therapy during the first few years of my freedom. Even just learning to adjust, that place made me
institutionalised and I struggled without the constant routine, always looking over my shoulder and on
edge waiting for the doctors to come in and poke and prod us. Then everything went down the drain
again, all that time gone and I was finally free and happy within myself and I felt safe.
Only to have blindfold ripped off and be shown that even out here monsters exist. Showed me that
they are lurking in the shadows only now I am older and the horrors more real because I knew how
dangerous they were. I was at the age where I should be able to understand and pick up the signs of
what a monster looked like. How could I be wrong and blind to it when I was raised in a facility full of
them torturing us.
You would think I would be able to recognise them instantly. Yet no one tells you the biggest
monsters are those we put our trust in, those we blindly trust because they swore to protect and teach
us. Now looking back, the signs were there. I just missed them. But now they were startlingly clear. And
I feared I would never be able to go back to the comfortable bliss I lived in before he tried to destroy
me.
The way he used to hang around us students, us girls in particular. The way he would help us get
away with things and bail us out.
I thought he was just one of the good teachers, a friend even. An adult that saw us for who we were
instead of just pitying the mutated freaks. But I learned everything comes with a price, I just didn’t see it
then.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.
So does it make it my fault because I missed the warning signs. Even when he asked me to pull
the blind down, something was screaming at me that something was off, yet I shoved it aside stupidly
trusting the devil in disguise. So now I find myself questioning everyone's intentions, looking for
anything to warn me away. I missed how before it all, I was carefree, invincible and free of my own
tormented mind.
I missed my innocence when the world looked colourful and beautiful. Now I only see the darkness
in everything, the things that could go wrong. Now I worry about how I dress, how I talk, how much of
myself do I put on display. That worries me, along with, can they all tell? Can they see how disgusting I
am? Can they see how much I hated what he tried to do, how much I hate myself for almost letting him
succeed in doing it? But the biggest burning question is, do they blame me the same way I blame
myself for not seeing the warning signs. Did I ask for it and is it my fault?
Looking at my mother, I truly see her for the first time. See why Amanda snapped. I was the
nightmare Amanda kept living, the memory ingrained in her mind like he is in mine. Tragically broken
and left with only the broken pieces and no matter how much glue, how much force and strength you
used to hold those pieces together it only takes one trigger to shatter them all over again and dissolve
the little safety you felt.
Hearing movement, I look down between us and find Ryden stirring before feeling movement
behind me making me look over my shoulder to see Rayan curled up and jammed in my back as he
snuggled against me. Turning back to face my mother, I find her eyes open, staring back at me.