Reece's Haven

20

Jenny resembles the girl in the photo attached to this chapter.

"Of all the lovers I had, you were my favourite..."
– Nautica

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~ D O R O T H Y ~

November 1997

Reece hurls himself to the floor, expelling a yelp, before the hammer collides with the wooden wall and drops down with a thud. Breathing heavily, he stares at the hammer with a horrified expression before his face turns to me as if I were a psycho.

Oh please. He is the psycho one. I was the unfortunate victim.

My eyes lock with his quivering ones, directing all the hatred and anger that I am able to muster.

"Get. The. Hell. Out," I growl.

"I-I d-deserve that," he begins, still in the process of overcoming the shock.

"Barely. You deserve much, much worse!" I snap.

"I do. I know I do. But p-please let me explain–"

"What makes you think that I want to hear anything you have to say?"

"Please," he pleads.

Scoffing, I choose to ignore him and decide to head back inside the house. When he notices that I am leaving the treehouse, he scrambles to his feet.

"Dorothy!" he calls, following me while I climb down the ladder. "I... Please, hear me out. Please."

When I'm halfway through the garden, he has the bloody nerve to grab onto my left wrist. From his touch, shudder ripples through me; a stark contrast to the warm and affectionate sensation that I was accustomed to when we were younger. It's incomprehensible how the person I used to trust with my life turned out to be a monster who obliterated my very being.

"Did you have to run away?" he says in a ghostly whisper. "I... Everyone was worried about you."

I snap my head towards him, narrowing my eyes and feeling my blood boil.

"Are you bloody stupid?" I spit, snatching my hand from his grasp. "Have you forgotten why I ran away in the first place?"

"Dorothy, I–"

"You could've stopped it. You could've helped me. But no. You let it happen. Hell, you did it!" I yell, not caring if I wake the neighbours or even mother. "I used to think – believe – that you would never hurt me. But what you did to me... Death is better than what you put me through."

I take a small step towards him, and another, and another, making sure not to look away from his glistening eyes. His jaw is clenched, his stare intense, as he quietly listens.

"And I would have welcomed it had I not run away," I whisper, before I turn around and continue on to the house.

But then he does the unspeakable. He catches me off-guard, scooping me up from the ground. I find myself screaming, thrashing in his arms.

"LET GO OFF ME! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?! I SWEAR TO GO–"

He partially lets me go, allowing my legs to drop down so that he can cover my mouth with his left hand. I tried to punch his chest but his right arm is now wrapped securely around me, preventing me from breaking free.

I don't get it. When I used to go after him, he pushed me away. Now that I want him far away from me as possible, he is coming after me. Gosh, what does he want from me? Why won't he bloody leave me alone?!