Easton's Light

Thirty-four

TRIGGER WARNING!

I sat outside the door of my bedroom, which was once again locked. After having her here for a week, I had learned the hard way that she was terrified of someone coming into the room.

I picked up my phone, dialling the number, "Hi Easton, is something wrong?" Marcus asked concerned.

"Marcus, I brought her home a week ago, she isn't making any process, I don't know what else to do. The only time she leaves the bed is to lock the door or go to the bathroom. The last time I tried to comfort her, she started screaming, telling me to get away from her. She won't eat, and she doesn't exactly like the IV bag." I spoke.

"Easton, you need to give the girl time. She went through something traumatic, and no one knows what that was, except the man who did it, and maybe the girl she was with. But her body has gone through trauma, she has an IV that is keeping her healthy. The only thing you should be worried about is changing her bandages so they don't get infected, have you even attempted to do that yet?" He instructed me.

"How the fuck do you expect me to do that Marcus when all she sees is him fucking touching her," I yelled

"Do you care about her?" He questioned

"Is that even a fucking question Marcus?" I demanded.

"Then you need to give her time, try to be there for her. Talk to her, let her know someone cares and that she's not all alone." His voice echoed through my mind.

That's what I had been doing, yet she continued to push me away.

From the moment I brought her through the doors I thought things would get better, that she would feel better. But it hadn't been like that, I had brought her to my room, as she had been sleeping there before, I thought it might be better for her.

Until later that night when Marcus came she locked us both out of the room, and then when we finally got in, she was sleeping peacefully. And then she disappeared from the room, but I had found her in the private library, looking outside.

Medical equipment was set up in my room, intravenous pole, IV bags. We had stocks of bandages, along with many first aid kits.

The first night went by peacefully, there was no struggle until Megan tried to give her some food the next morning. Only the second time I heard Lyla's voice since I had found her, it sounded like pure fear.

I was downstairs in the living room when I heard her screaming, I had run up the stairs to find Megan outside the door crying, and Lyla inside the bedroom in the corner, in the fetal position. Plates smashed and food all over the floor.

I had picked her up, she didn't fight me, she clutched onto me. I laid her down in the bed, she wouldn't let go of me, so I stayed with her.

The next day she wanted nothing to do with me, every time I tried to touch her she'd flinch, or she'd move away.

When she looked at me there was nothing in her eyes. Her eyes were empty, he had broke her. He caused her to be a shell of the woman I once knew, the woman I loved.

Over the next days, it got worse and worse as if she was losing every part of herself, which brings me back to my current situation.

Me

Sitting outside of my bedroom door waiting for her to allow herself to heal. She was fighting it, I could tell. She was trying to push everything to the back of her mind, but it slowly was creeping up on her causing fear.

I stood up, looking over the railing, "Dante, can you come to help me get the door open?"

Within seconds he was upstairs beside me, "you're trying this again?" He questioned.

"I will keep trying until I get her back," I nodded.

Within seconds the door was open, Dante stood to the side, letting me push it open, the view in front of me made me stop dead in my tracks.

Lyla was sitting up in the bed, holding a gun to her head. Her eyes were on me, but I could tell she didn't see me. She looked like she was looking right through me.

I held my breath, I didn't know what to do, every move I would pick next had a different outcome.

My eyes stayed trained on her while I whispered to Dante, "Call Marcus now."

I slowly shut the door behind me, keeping my attention on Lyla.

"Hi, baby," I whispered.

When I took a step closer she turned the gun, pointing it at me. "Don't fucking move!" She yelled.

I raised my hands up, I had gotten her attention, and that is what I needed, something other than hurting herself.

"I want him out of my head," She yelled turning the gun back onto herself, hitting the barrel against her head, causing me to move forward.

The first full sentence she said, and it was full of anger. Her voice was shaky, and it looked as though she didn't even know she had said her thoughts.

Her eyes were glossed over, she was in so much pain. I couldn't lose her this way, her mind was eating her alive.

I stood there frozen in place, I know she didn't want this, she wanted to be free of her pain.

"Ly, baby, it's me," I whispered, there was nothing else I could do, I didn't want to startle her, but I also didn't want to lose her.

I watched as she turned her head to look at me, tears were slipping down her cheeks, but then she closed her eyes.

She was contemplating, she didn't want to see me. And I was stuck with an ultimatum.

If I were to run and grab the gun from her hands, I risked startling her, which could cause her to pull the trigger. Or, I do nothing, and she pulls the trigger anyway.

I inched slowly closer to the bed, her scream then echoed through the room, her eyes red, and the gun was now pointed to the corner of the room.

I gripped her wrist, slowly taking the gun, throwing it onto the floor. Before bringing her into my chest, she was sobbing loudly.

"He's going to kill me," her voice cracks, as her hands gripped onto my shirt.

"No, he's not going to hurt you, Ly." She was slowly breaking my heart, she was scared, in total fear, because of me. I made a decision that I thought was right, that caused her so much pain.

I heard the door slowly open, watching Dante and Marcus walk in. Lyla didn't turn, flinch, or acknowledge their entrance, she stayed perfectly still in my arms.

I felt empty inside.

This was my fault. As soon as I grabbed the gun out of her hand I knew it was mine, I made the mistake of leaving it in my nightstand drawer. The drawer was still open, which turned my stomach.

Marcus walked up towards the bed, I knew what he was going to do, he was going to help ease her mind, even only for a little while. As soon as the needle went into her neck, she whimpered quietly into my chest.

I kissed the top of her head as I felt her relaxing against my body, soon after I could tell she was asleep, I laid her slowly down onto the bed, unclutching her hands from my shirt.

"Easton-" Marcus started. I held up my hand, walking into the bathroom closing the door behind me. I couldn't stomach it anymore, seeing her like that, knowing that it was my fault, made my stomach twist.

I had held it down, but I couldn't anymore.

I've never had a weak stomach, I've tortured men until they were nothing but a reconfigured blob, yet seeing her, seeing her pain, made me sick.

-

Yeah there is no authors note, I have nothing to say...