Sold To A Beast

Before The Rainbow

Fear is temporary.
Regret is forever.

I hate thunder.

I hate the way it comes at the worst of times when I'm already in a panic and can't breathe. How the thunder rolls across my brain when all I'm begging for is a moment of quiet.

We had a lot of thunderstorms when I was little. Living deep into the country surrounded by rock and open fields, the earth would echo the thunder for minutes at a time before passing. I was scared of the noise when I was younger, and I cried a lot when I was lonely.

My father would not come to aid my cries. My mother wasn't brave enough.

Now at twenty two, it's embarrassing to admit that I had yet to grow out of the silly fear. The trauma that haunted me still threatened to push itself into my life with every storm. I hadn't grown out of it, and at this point - I didn't know if I could.

I dashed to the bathroom with a startled cry as the thunder blasted my ears. I used the lightning to guide me across the room. Nearly tripping over a table, I shoved the bathroom door open and scrambled inside, slamming it shut after me as if it would somehow coo the storm.

I crawled my way to sit against the bathtub, bringing my knees to my chest and clenched my fists, cursing myself for being so immature in times like this. A stream of hot tears raced down my swollen cheeks. The heavens roared again and the shower curtain, wet from my previous use, mimicked the rain that fell outside and ran down my arms. I held in a cry for help by biting my lip. A moment of Deja vu pattered across my mind at a memory similar to this one: my begging for help over and over again like a routine. Eventually I learned not to call out because no one could save me. My throat ached with unspoken pleas.

"Emily?"

I was startled, my lungs filling easily now that my name was voiced. The fear almost completely washed away in mere seconds, replaced with such a gentle warmth now. I almost had the courage to leave the bathroom on my own now - someone had come for me this time. My intake of a proper breath was savage in sound as I gasped at finally being able to breathe.

The hybrid. Andrew. He was looking for me - to help me. 

The thunder rang loud and clear once more, rolling through the room before reaching me. I wanted to scream out at him and tell him where I was, but all of my words were caught in my throat. "Andrew-" It was nothing more than a whisper.

His fist soon began to beat on the bathroom door. "In here?" The tone of his voice was calmer than mine by far, but there was a hint of alarm underneath it all. 

It was something I hadn't expected to come from him.

I banged my fist on the tile, hoping the soft thuds would catch his attention. I called out his name again, uncertain if he could hear me. The door was opened in response, exposing the light and the creature who I knew by different names. I noticed the absence of a shirt and the long terrifying scars on his body. They were more bountiful on his shoulders going to his back.

I quickly shut my eyes afraid that this would only scare me more.

His fingers warned me that he would be touching me as they hovered over my skin. After a second of reassurance from just the graze of his fingers, he scooped me up off the floor and held me against him. I cried out from the electrifying sensation his touch brought to my skin, but it was over almost as quickly as it began when I was placed on the bed again. My skin was left with the soft buzz of the feeling.