Author's Note: This is the sequel to Love,
Lucy that you all have asked for. This story line, however,
will be mainly focused on Ruthie. That said, let's begin the story!
Signed, Anonymous
Chapter One:
Deep, Dark Secrets
It was dark; darker than dark. Black - it was pitch black, where nothing was even remotely visible. So black that if you held your own hand up to your face, you wouldn't be able to see it. He saw nothing; he heard nothing.
Then, suddenly, everything changed. It was bright. So stunningly bright, it hurt your eyes, like you were staring straight into the blazing sun itself. A blinding white light illuminated that darkness and he saw, for the first time, where he was. A room with rickety, wooden walls. A shack of some kind, he assumed.
He heard her before her saw her. She was screaming, panicking. Wiping his watering eyes on his sleeve, he went to her, following the sound of her voice, through the maze of walls and doors. Stopping in the last doorway, he stared, for she was not alone. A man - a grown man - was with her, his back to him. The man had her pinned up against one of the four walls, struggling to get her top off.
A sudden heaviness to his right arm diverted his attention. Somehow, a shiny, black pistol had appeared, and he was holding it, his fingers already on the trigger. Never minding the 'hows' and the 'whys', he rose the gun and steadied it.
"Get away from my girlfriend," he called tonelessly, and the man turned to him.
He jumped, surprised, and the weapon shook in his hand, but just for a second. The man's lack of a face had startled him. Moments later, he had pulled the trigger, and the faceless man had fallen to the floor.
Dropping the gun, he ran. He ran and he ran, but never reached her, to who he was running. Just before she disappeared - along with the shack and the faceless, lifeless man - a soft whisper graced her lips:
"Thank you."
He was falling. Falling through that floor and in to the sky. Falling, falling, falling, through the white clouds. Falling until he was seated on a park bench next to her, his girlfriend, who he had saved.
She was smiling at him, genuine happiness gleaming in her bright, brown, puppy dog eyes. Taking his face in her hands, she kissed his cheek, causing it to turn pink as he blushed.
"I love -- "
Peter jolted awake, his body drenched in cold sweat, the bedcovers twisted around his legs. Gasping for air, he glanced at his clock and read: 5:38 AM.
"Ugh," he moaned and fell back onto his damp pillows.
Not being able to go back to sleep, Peter recalled his dream. It was the same one that he had been living through each night since Ruthie had first told him that she was raped. Every night, he heard her screams, her cries for help. And every night, he saved her.
Never once had he told a living
soul about this particular dream. Not even Ruthie, to who he told everything.
She knew all of his dirty little secrets...all but this one. This one was
deep and dark. Telling her would only bring her more unnecessary pain that
she was already in, for Ruthie Camden had her own dark secret that she
hid. Not from him, but from her family. She had never told her family everything
about Colton Hunter and her kidnapping. She never once mentioned to them
that she had been raped.
Eric Camden was in his office that very afternoon when the letter arrived. His door had been closed, therefore unable to see who had delivered it through the crack above the floor. The hallway was empty when he looked out, leaving the author's identity concealed.
When the minister read the computer typed letter, he became overwhelmed with a feeling that he already knew who the writer was.
Not skipping a beat, Eric pulled
his jacket off the rack, pocketed the letter, and headed for home. He had
to discuss this letter with his wife, Annie, before they sat down for dinner.
Dear Reverend Camden,
Before I go any further, I would like for you to know that if my situation wasn't so painful or hard for me to speak of, I would have sought you out in person. But this way, I feel it will be better for me to express my feelings through written words, rather than verbal.
A few months ago, I was abducted. I am home now, and was only gone for a few days. And I'm really happy to be home with my family again where I am safe and loved.
But I have a secret. A secret so painful, that I have kept from my loved ones ever since I got back. Reverend, I was raped.
I can't tell my family, for I am afraid I will hurt that, and, honestly, I don't think they can take much more hurt.
All
I am asking for is a prayer. A prayer for me and all the other young women
out there who have been through what I have. And please ask God to give
me some direction. I don't know what to do anymore. I don't know what to
do with myself. I just feel so...dirty, so unclean. Sometimes I feel like
it's my fault. I just don't know what to do. Please help me.
Signed,
Anonymous