Chapter 100

Sensations

Rhi POV

I groan and struggle to open my eyes. They burn and are so heavy for some reason. Oh, that's right, the pain meds. Well, that's probably why I don't hurt right now. It feels like my eyelids are made of sandpaper when I move my eyes beneath them and when I open them, everything is blurry. Maybe the drugs are causing it.

I hate taking any kind of drug. The side effects are horrible but I must admit that right now it's kind of nice feeling. I feel numb to everything, even emotions, which might not necessarily be a good thing but at this exact moment, I really don't want to feel anything at all. Feelings, more often than not, are nothing but a nightmare for me.

The pain I've had for years has destroyed so many things for me. The feeling of touch often makes my skin burn. It feels like there are millions of fire ants crawling all over me, biting and injecting their venom over and over. Numbness never comes and all I feel is the pain, like pinpricks that never end.

Sounds, at times, can be painful and completely disorienting. Ear piercing screams resound in my head. They're so loud to the point that I can't focus or concentrate on anything. Then again, there are times that sounds become so muted that I don't hear anything at all. I sometimes wonder if I've lost my hearing. I see lips moving but no sound is attached to it. Even then, when I do hear sound with words, it's distorted like a video that's out of sync with its soundtrack.

Sight is a different story. With my eyes open, I see everything and I see what's happening. I can control what I see or perceive to see. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to get away from or control triggers and threats. Dr. Cameron has been working with me from the beginning of my therapy and it has helped, though it's taken a long time to be successful. I can now look past the threat, for the most part, and deflect it but sometimes I struggle to do that.

Now, with my eyes closed, that's a different level of nightmare. I fight to push all visions away, to defeat them and prevent them from invading my mind. I don't sleep very much because when I close my eyes I relive everything I've been through. It's like I'm watching a movie on continuous replay. The detail in which I see makes me feel like I'm in the moment it happened. The sounds exist with crystal clear clarity. I can feel and touch everything, from the surfaces to the fabric. I see everything in detail as it happened. It's like a perpetual loop and I can't get escape it.

When I say I'm too fucked up for Alex, I mean it. He has no idea what goes on in my body and definitely not my mind. If he did we'd never touch or talk. Over the years I've been able to control some of the thoughts so I can appear 'normal' but sometimes, my control is weakened and slips through the cracks in the wall. My mother was ground zero of my destruction, which quickly morphed into my self-destruction. While I appear strong on the outside, to those who are looking in, on the inside I'm a fucking mess and should have been locked up for treatment longer than I was. Not even Kate and Ana know about that. They just think that I disappeared, like I normally do, and figured I was OK. All those times I disappeared I was safely tucked away getting treatment. As close as Brad and I became, he and I decided there were more things that needed to be done to overcome some major obstacles that were preventing my full recovery.

When I found out Brad was my biological father, I don't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. I guess, on one hand, it was a good thing because he wasn't directly involved in things in the beginning. He didn't have a biased opinion and everything that we dealt with was untarnished by past familial ties; well, except for my cunt of a mother. Harsh word, I know, but true to definition. If I could have killed her, I would have.

The first time I had that thought was startling, but I brushed it off as just retribution from everything she did to me; everything she ALLOWED and encouraged to be done to me. The second time the thought made its appearance, it was then that I KNEW I needed something more than just outpatient treatment.

Brad and I decided that I needed a little 'vacation' and we both agreed it was the best for me, and everyone else. I don't lie to the girls; I would never do that. They've seen things that would make even the strongest of people crumble into a pile of rubble. No, I didn't need to bring them into my world, that deep into my mind. That is when I became to hate pity. Don't feel sorry for me. I don't need it, nor do I want it.

Seeing the look in Alex's eyes, the sadness and pain, along with the glistening tears pooling in his eyes, breaks what's left of my cold heart. OK, so it's not completely cold. I go to the extremes for other people to make them happy and help them and make sure they know they're not alone and uncared for. Stanley, for example.

Elderly people have a special place in my heart because of my family. My surrogate family included. To see someone so frail treated like garbage or worse, like they don't exist, pisses me off and makes me want to wrap them in my arms and care for them. I wasn't joking when I told Stanley I would get him set up, I just didn't have time at that moment. He was such a sweet man and truly did not deserve to be treated like that. I don't know what his situation is but I don't believe for a minute that he was the catalyst that started that. Huh. In my opinion, it was his family that failed him, probably a selfish one at that. Just like my mother.

I was the one who took care of my dad, even before he got sick, because I loved him and even if he wasn't my dad I still wouldn't have changed anything. Strangers took care of me and helped Dad raise me even though I wasn't theirs. They still do. Everything I've been through, everything I've survived, they've been there to support me and make sure I've been successful in my recovery. I have a surrogate family who loves me despite my fucked up faults.

Dad made sure I had people who cared for me, knowing he wasn't going to live long. We all knew he wasn't going to survive treatment. We all knew we had borrowed time with him so we made the best of it. He made sure I was safe and had a safe place to go. Joe made a promise to him and has kept to his word. They all have. Despite my attitude, my fighting, my drinking, my drugs, my fighting and my disappearing acts, they've always been there. They've given me my freedom to do what I'm going to do, within reason, to express myself and deal with my anger. They've never left me alone or feeling alone. When I get that feeling like I'm being watched? Yeah, well, I am. The amount of people my dad knew have more connections than anyone imaginable. There are people always watching my every move, not only to make sure I'm safe, but to make sure I stay out of trouble and not fuck up my future that's waiting for me.

You know how the 'good' are always represented by the color white and 'bad' is black? Well, dad's connections run through the whole spectrum, from white to black. Not to mention dad's connections have connections and so forth. Now, not everyone has good intentions but there's always someone else watching. My safety net is massive, more massive that even Kate and Ana don't know how big it is. I'm not a princess, nor do I act like one, I was a princess in my dad's eyes though. A thought and belief that traversed from one faction to another.

I don't like to flaunt or brag about anything. People that do that disgust me. I do what I can to make people know their wealth and importance, from the most purest of souls to the darkest. While it can be taken as being a 'good Samaritan,' I do what I do because I WANT to and I'm able to do it, not for the attention. The amount of resources I have at my fingertips is immense, thanks to my family. Dad, Nana and Papa, Grammie and Grampie and Joe all made it possible.

That brings me back to the situation at hand. Alex. Can he handle the amount of baggage I have? Can he survive and be happy through everything I've been through and what's to come? Is he strong enough? He revealed tonight that he has a temper. I do too, which means there will be battles in the future. He hasn't revealed much about himself, his past or his dreams. I've given him glimpses into my past, sort of. He's aware SOMETHING happened, he just doesn't know what. All he's been shown is the effects of it. Despite all that's been thrown at him he still hasn't run. That's saying a lot for someone's character. Maybe he is strong enough. Maybe I should give him a chance. Maybe I should try. It wouldn't be so hard if he wouldn't be so controlling or insistent on doing things his way. The pain meds and treatment issues, for example. We all know what happens after that.