**Chapter 6**
***Aria's POV***
I barely slept, even with my mom curled up in the bed next to me, I still woke sporadically expecting to feel his weight on my body. When I finally woke in the morning, my mom was gone and I thought I had been taken again, that I was back alone in the room. I lifted the sheets to see that I was still fully dressed thankfully and I breathed out a sigh of relief. Still, to be sure I scrambled to the window leaning out and breathing the fresh air. The sun was just barely coming up and I wondered where my mom had left to. The sunrise was beautiful and I hadn't realized how much I had missed it. I grabbed my camera from the desk and aimed it at the rising sun, framing the light with the trees outside my window. I snapped the picture, wanting to remember this moment forever. My first sunrise of freedom.
"You're awake." I heard her voice from the doorway and I whipped around to see her enter the room. I let a breath out when I saw her standing there with a mug of tea for each of us.
I took the tea, enjoying the warmth of the mug. Even though I was wrapped in a cardigan, I was still freezing. We moved back over to the bed, me pulling the sheet and comforter to cover my bare feet and lower legs which my loose pajama pants didn't reach.
"I want to go to the police station today." I said after we had sat in silence for a few minutes.
"Not today." She returned, taking a drink from her mug.
"Mom, I want to make sure that he is locked away and can't hurt anyone. Why can't I go down there?" I could hear the desperation in my voice and as much as I didn't want it to show, I know that it did.
She sighed, staring down into her mug and thinking about what she wanted to say to me. "Tomorrow you can go down to the police station, I'll go with you. But today, I want you to relax, take some space and sleep on it tonight."
I wanted to argue with her, but I knew the toll that this whole thing was taking on her. Fighting would just make us both miserable and I knew she wouldn't let me go down to the station today no matter how hard I argued. Surely they would keep Andrew locked up again today, they would let us know before he was released. I pushed the sense of panic down, not wanting to worry my mom anymore.
"Why don't you spend today with your dad and I. He only has to run and check his mailbox at school tonight. But the rest of the day can just be us."
I nodded at her words, taking a sip of my tea. "I think I want to go down to the coffee shop today. I kinda miss the coffee, and the company."
She looked at me for a moment, evaluating me. Before she gave a slow nod. "Alright, I can do some shopping so you can go to the coffee shop, I'll just be in the next store."
"Thank you."
She still looked uncomfortable with the idea. But I knew that she would give in to what I wanted. I think she felt guilty and wanted to give me anything that I thought I needed.
"Are you sure that you'll be okay being out in public like that."
I closed my eyes, realizing that she must have noticed how I jumped when people approached me suddenly. I could feel the shame burning through me. I didn't want her to see me as weak. I could take it. But I needed to hide the fear better.
"I think it'll be good. Get me used to being around people again." I reassured her and she seemed to accept that as a reason.
"We'll go after lunch." She promised before standing up. "Why don't you get some more sleep and I'll wake you up in a little while."
I smiled, nodding my head and passing her my mug. I climbed back under the covers, knowing that I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. Not trusting that I would be safe, not without someone lying next to me. But I put on the show anyway, if it would make her feel better I could pretend. She walked out of my room, gently closing the door behind her. She must have thought the door was better at muffling sounds than it was, because as soon as she closed the door she started crying.
Tears burned at my eyes, my mother was still hurting. I laid there in bed for a few minutes, silently crying so that she wouldn't hear me. My body shook from a combination of sobbing and the cold. After a minute, she sniffled and the sounds of her sobbing stopped. Her footsteps moved away from my door, fading away down the stairs. I stayed curled under the covers, trying to warm up and finally the heat started to soothe my shaking. I closed my eyes, letting the tears run from beneath my eyelids. But sleep wouldn't come to me.
I got up from the bed after about 20 minutes of silent crying, moving over to the dresser where I pulled out some fuzzy socks that I kept for winter times around the house. I pulled my cardigan closer to my body, ready to move over to the window when I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. The bruises on my face were no longer purple but instead a sickly green/yellow color, the ones on my throat still held the purplish tone though, along with the red scabs from where his fingernails had dug into my flesh. Tears of shame burned at my eyes, even though a headache was raging through my head already from crying so long. No wonder my mom was crying, she still saw the evidence of my imprisonment on my face. I was amazed that she could even look at me. I broke my gaze away from the mirror, not wanting to see my reflection any longer. Instead my gaze fell on my make-up and I instinctively reached for the concealer. The color was a little off, as my skin had paled some from lack of exposure to sunlight from the weeks of confinement.
I stilled, wondering how it really could have only been a month and a half. I remembered my day count and wondered when it got thrown off. Maybe it was the fact that I had only seen daylight when we were trapped outside of the bunker. I shook my head, not wanting to revisit those memories. My hands shook and felt cold even though I was bundled up. I know that my mom wanted me to get some more sleep, but I knew that the only thing that might help me would be a hot shower. So I grabbed my robe and headed to the bathroom I shared with my brother. Mike seemed to still be asleep, so I slipped into the bathroom.
I made sure the door was locked and tested the doorknob just to make sure that the lock worked before turning on the water to scalding hot. When it reached a good temperature, I reluctantly pulled off my clothes, avoiding looking at my body in the mirror, and instead climbing into the shower. The hot water burned at my skin and I bit my lip to keep a gasp inside. But the heat felt incredible, like safety and comfort rolled into one burning sensation. I reveled in the sensation of being so completely ensconced by the heat, enjoying the warmth before beginning to wash my body. When it came to washing my hair, I could feel tears roll down my cheeks, mingling with the spray, as I rubbed the shampoo into my shortened hair. I was once again grateful to the nurse who treated me when I came in. She had been the sweetest woman I could have gotten as a nurse. She ran out to the store, getting brown hair dye on her break so that I didn't have to keep the pink highlights beyond the first night. By the time my friends had seen me again, my hair was back to its original brown, no pink in sight.
I should send her a thank you note, I thought as I shut off the water and pulled back the curtain hesitantly. I breathed a sigh of relief when there was no one in the bathroom. I wrapped myself up snugly in my warm bathrobe, before pulling my fuzzy socks on again. I reached for the door knob, when the wave of anxiety struck me. I was still barely covered. I shook a little at the thought of being so exposed outside of the warmth of the steamed up bathroom. I turned away from the door, pulling on my pajama bottoms under my robe so that I felt a little more covered. I cracked the door open, making sure that no one was in the hallway before rushing towards my room.
Once there, I quickly dressed in a tank top, warm sweater top, jeans and fuzzy socks. I sat down at my make-up table, focusing on carefully applying my now unmatched concealer first to the darker marks on my throat before dabbing at the marks on my face. When I was done, the bruising could still be seen slightly beneath the makeup, but at least it wasn't as glaringly obvious what had happened. I grabbed my sketch pad before curling up on the window seat, looking out at the outside world. I lost myself in trying to mimic the tree that grew outside my window, the way that the blossoms let the light shine through them and the shapes of the branches. I didn't think beyond the tree, ignoring everything else in the world.
A knock sounded at my door, causing me to jump at the disruption and my pencil dragged across my sketch of the tree. I frowned at the dark mark now marring the amateur depiction before turning to the door.
"Come in." I called, reveling in the fact that the person had waited until I had given permission to enter.
"Lunch is ready." My mom said, popping her head into the room. I could see her eyes widen slightly when she looked at my face, but she didn't say anything.
"I'm coming." I replied, giving a slight smile and closing my sketch book.
I stood up from my seat and walked over to her, as she was still waiting at my door for me. The signs of her tears from earlier had all been erased as well, and she smiled lightly at me. I breathed in the delicious smell of a hearty soup that I knew was homemade as I made my way down the stairs to the table where my father and brother already sat, not talking.
I asked my dad about classes and he talked while we ate, occasionally needing to be prompted to continue his stories about students. I even got Mike talking about classes at school, what had been happening at Rosewood while I had been gone. No one mentioned what had happened to me, all realizing the subject was taboo. I enjoyed the hearty soup and rye bread and was thankful for the warmth. I felt a little warmer than I had after my shower, but the cold still plagued me. Once we had finished lunch, my dad cleaned up the dishes while I ran upstairs to get my bag. I paused when I went to put my phone inside, thinking of my friends caused guilt to bubble up inside me. I shoved the phone in carelessly and closed my purse. I threw my bag over my shoulder before turning away from my room. I was ready to go out.
**End Chapter**
