Meant To Be #Wattys2015

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

“You okay?” Was the first thing that he asked me as we sped away.

“Fine.” I croaked, my voice hoarse from all the crying. I wiped away the stray tears with the back of my hand.

“What the…” he trailed off as he pulled over rather roughly.

“What? What’s wrong?” I asked in panic as I turned to look behind us, almost expecting them to follow us. No sooner than the car stopped, he seized both my hands in his and gently pulled them towards him. I winced slightly at the pain that shot through me. I turned towards him, about to speak, but clamped my mouth shut when I saw the expression on his face turn from dark to thunderous as he took a through inventory of my wounds. I sat stiffly as I watched his gaze wandered over my body.

“Mark…?” I said softly. His head snapped up. I gasped at the rage in his eyes. Never had I even been so scared of someone. But at the same time, there was a lingering feeling of safeness around me. It was a contradictory emotion, and it was slowly driving me crazy. I heard a growl escape him when his hands feathered over the bruise on my arm, the place where they had grabbed me. I flinched at the pain. He saw it.

“I’m going to fucking kill them.” Spoken with such menace, I tried to pull my hands out of his touch. His expression softened when he looked at me. “They didn’t….” He trailed off, before blowing out a breath and composing himself. “They didn’t do anything else, did they?” he swallowed before uttering those words with a fearful expression. The fear on his face was so at odds with the rage that I had seen only moments ago, that it left me at loss at words. So, instead, I shook my head in denial. He let out a relieved breath.

“Can we please go home?” I asked in a small voice, all of my strength suddenly deserting me. He released my hands and nodded before staring the car and driving off. But the whole way his hand stayed on my knee, providing me with a sense of comfort.

'*'*'*'

I gazed aimlessly out of the window, trying not to let my mind wander into dark places. It was easy to just sit there and pretend that nothing happened, but the bruises and scabs on my body said differently. It was a constant reminder, the pain that came with even the slightest of movement.

“Anya?” I heard him ask me softly, cautiously.

“Hmm?” I responded with a slight turn of my head in his direction.

“We’re here.” There was that tone again. It made me feel like a flighty animal; one that would run away at the slightest provocation.

“Right, thanks.” I muttered, unable to think of anything else. I tried to take my bag, which I miraculously still had with me, but he shook his head.

“Let me” he said politely. I shrugged and turned away, carefully opening the door without getting any blood on it. I knew something was wrong as soon as I stepped out of the car. And it had everything to do with the massive mansion in front of me.

“This isn’t my home?” I asked, but it came out as a question.

“No, it’s mine.” He replied with a small smile as he stood beside me, slinging my bag on his shoulder. My eyes widened in response.

“Why are we here?” I asked slowly, as if talking to a five-year-old.

“You’re in a bad shape. I thought you could use some cleaning up before you go home.” He said after a long time. “Not that you look bad or anything. I just think you should, uh… Tweak your looks a little so that you won’t give your mother a heart attack.” He rushed to add, his little fumble bringing a small smile to my lips. I looked down at myself, taking an almost clinical inventory of my clothes. My shorts were dirty and ripped, stained with blood. My shirt was in a similar condition. Not to mention the various wounds on my arm and leg. I sighed.

“Okay” I muttered. He looked surprised at my quick agreement.

“Okay?” he repeated. Then cleared his throat, trying to get a reign on himself. “This way princess.” He finally said, motioning towards the grand entry-way. But the word princess got me.

“Aww! Look, princess is crying!” These words resounded in my head, and just like that, something tightly wound me in snapped. It was akin to that of a rubber-band stretched beyond its limit. The feeling of peace that I had only moments ago was preplaced by a strange emptiness. The only thing that I remembered was that everything around me was big and shiny. It was like I my body had switched onto autopilot. I walked ahead robotically, completely missing the grandeur of the house.

“Anya?” came a voice from the long end of a tunnel. I’m in a tunnel? But it’s not dark. I thought, confused. “Anya?” Said that voice once again, this time sounding more alarmed. It was a familiar voice. It belonged to someone I knew, but couldn’t remember. Since when did my memory get so bad, I mused. Just then, something warm was wrapped around my wrist. A hand, I thought belatedly. Before I could guess who it belonged to, I was being tugged to something. Or someone. Though it felt like I was colliding to a solid wall, the warmth told me that it was a person.

“Anya, honey, look at me.” said that voice. Someone cupped my cheek and turned my face sideways. I tried to get a good look at who it was, but my eyes remained unfocused.

What if it was one of them? Whispered my sub-consciousness. No, it can’t be them! I left them behind! I tried to reason back but the words were lost in a torrent of roar that suddenly filled my ears.

Before I could comprehend what was happening, darkness started to close in. And I welcomed it with open hands, trying to get rid of the fear and pain. Slowly, everything faded to black.

“Anya!” was all I heard, and then it was lights out.

Peace. Finally.

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Anna