Just so everyone knows ahead of time. I in no way act as a professional for abused victims or know the process of healing from a psychiatrist/therapist standpoint. My writing is from a fictional standpoint, with definitive scriptural advice. My story has biblical viewpoints so if it bothers you to read a story with a Christian foundation, please move on to another story rather than criticize. This story is about redemption and I would like to keep it that way ;) And btw Caroline is not a vampire and yes Rose I took from the vampire diaries show- this way you can place a name to a face. Hope you enjoy and leave me some reviews!

XxX

I remember the smell of her. She smelled like fabric softener right out of the dryer. It makes me laugh on the inside to think of how silly that is, but that smell, it brings me comfort. I find myself taking my clothes out of the laundry and just smelling them, in hopes it will fill the void, this great sadness that lingers in the depths of my heart. My last clear memory was her playing the piano while I sang in the living room. I remember pretending to be some famous Broadway singer, and she always made me feel like the star in the final grand performance.

She smiled at me every time I reached for a note with a belly full of oxygen. The faint memory of her stare as she eloquently played the piano was the last fond memory I had of her. I dream about it often, because it is the only time I felt what true love was like. The last time I felt secure. The image of her is like an angel that speaks to my heart, and breathes life into me every morning. Her memory keeps me going, as if I'm endlessly searching for her in a world I know she can't possibly exist in, but yet my soul searches anyway.

She was a Godly woman. I remember the very night I lost her; we had our bible study over dinner together. We sat at the small circular table as I saw her sift through her bible, and I clutched my children's devotional tightly in anticipation for her wisdom.

"Caroline, do you think if someone does something intentionally horrible they should be forgiven?"

I remember pondering her question. But it only made me mad, to think someone would intentionally hurt someone and expect forgiveness. I thought of my father, how brutally awful he was. He abused my mother and I physically, and she finally left him when she developed enough courage to stand against him. He took his life years later, the product of a lonely soul that couldn't bear to forgive himself for all his wrongdoings. His death still seemed to devastate her, and I could never understand why.

"No mommy, I don't"

She smiled gently toward me, as she always did before she would speak into my life.

"Caroline, we all fall short of Gods expectations. We always will. It doesn't matter how good you are, because even the most generous person will always have a defected heart. God, in His love for us died in our place. Not because we deserved it, but because He loves us unconditionally."

I stared at her, as she closed her bible and took my small 9 year old hand into hers.

"People will disappoint you. But forgive them Caroline, as God has forgiven you. Not because they deserve it, but because you love God. And you have a God given light in you my dear that even the darkest of hearts cannot defeat."

She kissed my hand, and then my forehead. I can still feel her soft palms on my cheeks and her fresh scent as she rose from the table.

XxX

"Caroline, mommy loves you. Remember to always trust God hunny ,no matter what. Be quiet baby. Do not open this door do you understand me?"

I remember her scream. It haunts me; it hurts me so much I can't breathe. I'm struggling for air, but I am scared, I feel the dark space around me closing in.

"What happened next Caroline?" The soft voice whispered.

"I can't do this, I can't breathe" I gasped.

"Yes you can Caroline. You are safe now. Just relax your body and your fears. No one can get you now." The voice encouraged.

"I see my mommy through an opening; she is scared, I see it in her eyes." I whispered

"Is there someone with your mommy Caroline?"

"Yes" I cried. I held back my tears, afraid that the bad men would hear me.

"Who is hurting your mommy ?"

"My neck hurts, I am so small in this tiny closet but I see her in the cracks. She is struggling but she doesn't beg him for her life even though I want her to. He has her pinned against the wall as the other men walk around the house."

"What does he look like Caroline?"

The tears are streaming down my face now, begging to cry out in anguish. I wanted to run to her but my body is frozen in fear. I feel guilty and ashamed that I don't have enough courage to save her.

"I can't see his face, but I hear his voice"

"What does he sound like Caroline?"

My heart begins to race at the mention of his voice. I'm struck with fear as the memory hits me like a piercing wave.

"I can't talk he will find me" I whispered.

"You are safe now, no one will capture you. You must be strong Caroline, and try to remember. Face your fear and open your mind."

"He's biting my mother in the neck. And she's staring at me through the crack in the door. She wants me to know everything will be okay."

"You are doing so well Caroline. You are strong. What happens after your mother gets bit Caroline?"

"She whispers something in his ear. He seems stunned by what she said. He drops my mommy to the floor and stares at her. I want to kill him. I hate him." I cried.

"I know Caroline, I know sweetheart. Continue" the pleasant voice directed.

My chest constricts, and my blood seems to pump harder.

"He sees me!" I begin to scream.

"Caroline, calm down and take a deep breath. You are safe now, you are doing so well. We are almost there." The voice pleaded.

"He turns to stare at the closet. I know he sees me! He's bloody but I can't see his face no matter how hard I focus. My vision is blurry from my tears. I cannot break away from his stare."

"What do you remember about his face Caroline?"

"His eyes, his piercing grayish/blue eyes" I cried out.

I shot up and opened my eyes to release the captive tears that were waiting for a release. The sun shined brightly through the window as Rose turned off her recorder and placed her notepad on the small glass table. My head pounded and my palms were sweaty. It seemed to get a little better over time, though in slow progression. I remember getting counseled as a child and having an extra pair of clothes on hand, because I would pee my pants at one glimpse into this locked away nightmare that haunted me each night.

"It seems that I can never get past this. Every time I get close at remembering his name or what he looks like my mind pushes me back."

Rose smiled reassuringly, handing me a glass of cold water.

"Caroline, these things take time. This is a memory that juristically changed your life, and it could take decades to unlock. You have come a long way from the 9 year old I remember."

I smiled understandingly. Rose was a nice Christian woman, and her nurturing nature had a way of comforting me. I suppose this was why I stuck by my therapy sessions with her since I were a broken lost child. She gave me hope, and I needed that in my life.

"For the life of me I want to remember him. I know there is more from that night but it's like I subconsciously can't do it. I try so hard to unlock the door but I'm holding myself back. I know he spoke but I can't remember how it sounds. And I know he knew I was there because he turned to look."

" I know Caroline. I think you should talk to God more about this, and pray. I know it will help the recovery process and bring peace."

I placed the glass back down, wiping my lips with the sleeve of my favorite royal blue sweatshirt.

"I still have a relationship with God Rose, but I've drifted far from Him. I'm having a hard time to understand a lot of the events of my life. I know you are trying to help, and I even know you are probably right. But I need it to be authentic, and this is a battle I need to fight on my own."

"You know Caroline, there is such a thing as evil. You have experienced it first hand, and it's a tough reality to deal with. Too often people focus on the light…of Gods' mercy and grace. But remember, darkness is very real too. Once we face that, it is up to us to decide which side we are on. There is no in-between; you are either hot or cold. "

"I know" I smiled half heartedly.

"What I saw was demonic, and I know God will never allow someone to hurt us, without His permission. I am just trying to understand why He did."

Rose stood from her seat, grabbing my backpack and car keys.

"Sometimes it is not our job to figure out why Caroline. Often, it is the struggle of trusting Gods Will and accepting that His plan is greater than the one we wished for ourselves."

She placed her hand reassuringly on my shoulder as she led me to the door.

"Oh and Caroline, you are making more progress than you think."

"Really? Why do you say that?" I asked, placing my second backpack strap over my shoulder.

"You have never mentioned anything about his features, and this time you did."

I couldn't open my mouth to speak, this was the first time I had ever recalled anything about my mother's killer. I could only stare at Rose with eyes of expectancy.

"You said he had piercing grayish/blue eyes"