I stirred and woke up, feeling numbness in my legs I hadn't felt a minute ago. It tried to sit up and as I did, a blanket fell off of me; one that I hadn't been wearing in the car. Thinking about it, I wasn't even in the car anymore. I was back home in the living room in the corner. And the blanket was my pink ones with rabbits dotted all over it; the blanket I'd had since I'd been born.
I looked around the room and it was dark, dreary and bleak. It was like all colours had been drained from my eyes, everything was different shades of grey and then I saw two bodies on the other side of the room with another body standing beside them, trying to interfere with whatever was going on. For some reason I couldn't completely see who the three figures were and their bodies were blurred.
I saw that one body was on top of the second one, and his arm was moving up and down. It was like it was punching the other person... oh god. The body was much larger than the other one, broad and the build of a man; the other with curves and long wavy hair.
I glanced at the body that was slowing backing away and it was tall and lanky, skinny with long dark hair. The larger body was continuing to punch the other person as she screamed and repeated to yell 'stop' and him but e wouldn't. The skinny body was moving forward to stop him and he grabbed his arm but the body that was on top of the woman pushed him away and struck him across the face. He stumbled and pulled away.
Then the body leaned over and looked like it was facing me. It was like the blackness of his body was getting darker and more terrifying. My heart started beating faster and I started to panic.
I pulled myself into the corner hoping to just disappear and leave this house. The body got up from leaning over the woman who tried to pull him away but he threw her off. He started walking toward me and I felt useless; like I was back in my 12 year old body again. I crawled into the corner and pulled my blanket up to my neck but when the body approached me he yanked it away and got scissors to it. I watched it being shredded into tiny pieces, eyes filling with tears.
Then he moved closer so his face was inches from mine, breath on my face and the stench of alcohol and drugs wafted towards me. I prayed in my head that he would leave me alone but he didn't.
I breathed even more heavily and I knew there was no escape so I sat there and endured the pain. He struck me across my face, and punched me until I was black and blue. He told me not to cry and then he took a blade and slashed my stomach but not enough to make too much damage. I carried on crying after he stormed out and slammed the front door. I sat there, pressing my wounds to stop the bleeding.
No no no no...
'No!' I screamed. I awakened and I was back in the car again clutching the blanket that had slipped on the floor. I shot up as fast as a bullet, my eyes wide and I looked around quickly, to make sure it was a dream and nothing had actually happened.
'Annabelle, are you okay?' Sam's sudden outburst made me jump and I turned round just to make sure it was him... don't know why though.
'I... I... I...' I just couldn't speak. The shock of the dream really affected me and I just felt like I didn't have a voice. Sam looked at me, eyes filled with concern and worry. I stared deeply into them and we both managed to keep eye contact.
'Hey, it's okay. What was it? A bad dream?' he asked, rubbing my arm to try and calm me down.
'A flashback,' I said to myself, staring at the back of one of the leather seats.
'What do you mean a flashback? What was it about?' Sam was giving the impression he was really desperate to know but I didn't want to say anything to him.
But it was too late.
'It... it was a flashback from my past. From... from when...' I found it hard to get the words out, and my lungs closed up and I choked.
'From when?' Now, Sam had moved closer, wrapping his arm round my shoulder and trying to get it out of me.
'From when my dad came home one night and abused us all. He...' I choked but I was determined to finish my sentence, 'he beat up my mom in the kitchen and when my brother tried to stop, he pushed him back and gave him a black eye. Then he came over and started to beat me up. He pulled out a knife and slashed my stomach. I still have the scar.'
I lifted my t-shirt to show him the scar I had that stretched from one side of my stomach to the other. I pulled out a piece of cloth from my pocket, the only piece that was left of my blanket I once had until my dad had ripped it apart... along with my life.
'This cloth was what was left of the blanket I had since I was a child. He ripped it up right in front of me when he attacked me. He stank of beer and drugs.' I continued, stuffing the cloth back into my back pocket of my jeans. Sam seemed shocked by the story but didn't fail to try and comfort me.
'That's fucking disgusting. It's awful. Is that why you're such a panicky person?'
Unable to speak, I nodded and started crying again. Sam leaned his head on my shoulder and I leaned my head on his head. To be honest, I wanted to stay there and not move.
'It's okay, it's gonna be okay, I promise.' He repeated.
And then suddenly everything felt okay. Like I was going to be fine, like this storm was going to stop and I'd go back home without having to move again in case my dad found us again.
