"When you get into a tight place and everything goes against you, till it seems you cannot hang on a minute longer, never give up then, for that is just the time and place that the tide will turn" – Harriet Beecher Stowe.
Everyone copes with things in their own way. Some scream and shout, some bottle thing up, some find solace in things that can only make their predicament worse. Some suffer in silence, so trapped in their own minds that escape appears impossible. PTSD is hell. No two ways about it, having PTSD can ruin someone's life. There are so many things that can cause a person to suffer from this terrible affliction. War. Violence. Loss. Once consumed it is one hell of a climb back out of the depths of despair. Some never make it back. Those that do should be admired. Someone once said that life just happens, but that's bullshit. If life just happened, then anyone who had suffered in their life would give up, and put it down to one of those things that they couldn't control. Yeah, not everything in life can be planned, and terrible things happen when they shouldn't. But everyone has a choice. Shut yourself away and give up or fight like hell to become stronger, better. And that is a choice that I sincerely hope you never have to make.
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Melissa sat in the corner of the room shaking like a leaf, rocking back and forward as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. Half naked, covered in bruises and cuts and unable to talk she just sat. She could feel their eyes on her, burning in to her and it scared her more. Their eyes said 'get on with it', 'I've been through worse', and were full of contempt for her and she trembled. That's what terrified her. Not just what had happened, but what she could only imagine would follow. There are times in every girl's life where they just need someone to wrap their arms around them, hold them close and tell them that everything will be ok. Melissa needed this more than ever now, but she knew that she was being foolish. No one was coming. Why would they? She was no one, just like the rest.
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Olivia looked down at the broken form at her feet. She sighed.
"Come on Brian, I thought you said you wanted to get back into shape," she exclaimed as he panted on the ground, clutching his hamstring, feigning agony.
He continued to play up his 'injury' as she rolled her eyes, but eventually she helped him up and they sat down on a nearby bench. Still gasping for air he managed to say, "damn Liv, are you trying to kill me?"
She rolled her eyes again and responded playfully, "I didn't know you were so unfit, maybe we'll have to revise our evening's plans, I don't want your heart to give out on me now." She gave him a wink as she said it.
He pulled her closer and nuzzled his face into her neck. "I'm sure I'll be fighting fit for that," he murmured as he took in her scent, the feel of her against him and allowed the love he felt to overcome him.
She giggled and swatted his wandering hands away jokingly, "save it for later tiger! Come on let's get you home before you take me right here…" She looked at him and took in the beetroot red colour of his face and added, "… or pass out." She took his hand and helped him off the bench, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and they briskly began to walk back towards their apartment.
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Amanda and Charlotte sat in a busy bar, two beers sitting in front of them. They laughed and joked, eyeing up the cute guys who kept looking over at them. Amanda had long since got over her dislike of the petite brunette sat opposite her, even if she was the symbol of perfection. Charlotte couldn't help but admire Amanda, with her strong will, her drive to succeed and her 'seemingly' uncomplicated life. Not that anyone's life is completely without complications. They hadn't hit it off at first but had fast become inseparable once they had begun to understand each other. The two men at the other end of the bar smiled at them as the bartender placed two mojitos in front of them. Charlotte and Amanda smiled back and accepted the drinks.
"Which one do you want," Amanda giggled to Charlotte.
"The blonde, he looks like he's know what he's doing," she chuckled in reply.
Amanda laughed and both women shared a smile as the men approached them. Conversation flowed easily between the four of them and they laughed and joked, enjoying the company. The group consumed several more drinks in the next couple of hours and were beginning to feel slightly buzzed.
The bar was becoming more and more crowded and eventually Charlotte and Amanda decided it was time to move on. They thanked their new found friends for their drinks and bade them goodnight before leaving the bar. As they stepped out onto the sidewalk they looked for somewhere else to continue their night, but realising that they were more drunk than they had first thought decided to go their separate ways and head home.
Not seeing a cab anywhere they began to walk in the direction of the subway, thinking only that they wanted to curl up in bed and get a good nights' rest after the week they had had. But as they walked they were unaware that they were being watched.
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Nick looked down at the sleeping child that was his daughter and was struck by just how perfect she was. By how much he missed her when she wasn't there. His ex-wife had moved to Los Angeles, taking Zara with her and that meant that he didn't see her nearly as much as he wanted. He missed her so much when she wasn't there it was like a physical ache and then when she visited he wanted to spend as much time with her as he could and he would often find himself watching her sleep, taking in all of her little mannerisms, every physical feature and think about all he was missing in her life. She was the single most important thing in the world to him, she was his little girl, his princess. And it broke his heart every time he had to say goodbye.
Eventually he left the room, shutting the door behind him, allowing her to sleep peacefully. He looked at his watch and decided that he would have a beer and watch the late night movie. It would be a little while before Maria called to see how their daughter was and he didn't want to dwell on how he had lost her, how his paranoia and lack of trust had driven them apart. If he did that he felt like he was going crazy and he really wanted to move on. Maria had accepted their divorce and it was about time that he did too. He checked his phone again and was disappointed to see that he had no text messages or missed calls. Not that he was waiting on a message from anyone in particular.
He had fallen asleep on the couch halfway through, what the description had professed to be, a brilliant film and was awoken by the sound of Maria's ringtone blaring loudly. He came to with a jump and yawning said, "hello Maria."
They had the same conversation they always had about Zara, what she and Nick had done with their day, was she missing her mom, was she going to bed at the right time, was she eating right and was she having fun. They typically stayed on the topic of Zara as most other things provoked an argument. Maria had a fiery temper and Nick was still bitter that she had taken his daughter to live at the other end of the country. They so badly wanted to remain on good terms for Zara's sake so it was better if they didn't discuss anything that would cause a shouting match. Maria ended the call telling him that she would arrive on Friday to take Zara back home and truth be told he was dreading the moment once more when he would have to kiss his daughter goodbye.
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Footsteps clicked against the cement floor as they walked up and down the room, glaring at each occupant of the cold, dark room in turn. They were all terrified, afraid of what torture was to come next. All they had wanted to do was to work, none of them had had the best start in life and were only trying to earn a living. None of them had expected this. Each girl breathed deeply as the clicking footsteps passed in front of them, each terrified of being grabbed and roughly dragged from the room. Some of the girls gripped each other's hands tight, having formed a protective bond around each other, but that bond would easily be broken if it meant surviving. The click was a sound that every single girl in that room had nightmares about. That they would be haunted by for the rest of their lives, however long they may be. Some sounds, some memories, some experiences never leave. This one never would.
A rough hand reached out and grabbed the back of the smallest, youngest girl's neck. She was pulled out into the aisle, the light from the door hitting her, showing the bruises, scars and cuts that covered her tiny frame. She shook in fear and with cold, trying to contain a whimper. They didn't like it when they whimpered. Her eyes were on the floor, as she had been conditioned to do, as a sign of respect, although what she was respecting she didn't know. The hand gripped her arm much harder than necessary and lead her from the room, and forcefully shoved her through another door and into a well-furnished room with a giant bed. She looked in distaste at the outfit that lay on the bedspread. A tiny pink dress which would barely cover her ass and so tight it showed of every single curve. It left nothing to the imagination, but then again her purpose was not to provide a chase. An air of mystery. It was to lie back and allow her client to finish, so her boss could make lots of money.
But suddenly, she realised she couldn't do it anymore. That she had to get out. Even if it killed her. She scanned the room, knowing that she still had some time before her company arrived. Finding what she was looking for she scribbled a note on a scrap of paper and stuffed it down her chest to hide it. Then she looked at the door. Fear gripped her and her breathing became erratic, she couldn't believe what she was thinking of doing. She placed her hand on the door knob and took one deep calming breath, before she opened it and looked the corridor up and down. Seeing it was deserted she crept, quiet as a mouse to the left, towards where she knew the main entrance to her prison was. Not making a sound, she somehow, miraculously, managed to avoid all of the guards and staff. Seeming far too good to be true she pulled open the main door, something that was no easy task due to the fact it was made of reinforced steel, and went out, breathing in fresh air for the first time in six months. Sneaking along the perimeter of the brick building, she kept to the shadows, until she saw a clump of trees. Making for the tree line she ran, unaware that someone on the roof had seen her. She heard a loud bang, before she felt searing pain and fell to the ground. Blood gushed from her shoulder and she cried out in agony but pushed herself to her feet and forced herself to keep going. Another bang, this time catching her in the thigh and once more she fell to the ground. Tears streaming down her face she dragged her body along the concrete and into the cover of the treeline, taking care to stay hidden from view. She could hear their shouts and the sound of footsteps behind her so she pulled her battered body into a bush and lay there. Praying for the end to come.