The Way Out of the Dark

The room I was in previously was much plainer. In the darkness of the room, I could see large shapes I hadn’t seen in my previous room. I felt the wall for a light switch and flipped it up.

I was in their laundry room. There wasn’t a whole lot, a couple machines, and on one of them was a basket of clothes.

But the golden ticket, the beautiful salvation that I found wasn’t anything at all. It was something no one really ever thinks about: a door. A screen door leading outside.

I walked towards it, touching it. I turned to the basket of clothes and found a large flannel shirt. I put it on, buttoning it up, preparing myself.

For good measure, I turned the light off and hid the towel in the basket.

I quietly opened the screen door, and as I was shutting it, I heard yelling. I heard a ‘sh’, like someone said ‘she’, and I bolted.

As I ran through the deeply wooded area, I looked around for any sign of life. I looked for lights, I looked for buildings. I listened for cars or people. I tried to see signs or statues.

But I saw nothing in the dark. Only the sound of the wind sneaking through the trees and the rustling they made. The cicadas were chirping, but there were no stars in the sky.

There were no significant landmarks that I saw, so I made it a point to take unnecessary left and right turns, just to throw them off if they were following me.

I was sure they’d catch up to me. I was never very athletic, and my legs weren’t as long as James’. He had caught me before, but it gave me hope to remember that I prolonged it.

If my neighbor wasn’t such an idiot, I would’ve made it.

We had running tests during gym class in high school that tested our speed, agility, and stamina. I think they’re banned now.

I always scored very low on speed, pretty good on agility and reflexes, and I always got in the top three places for stamina. Maybe I could outlast them, whoever might’ve been behind me.

I felt something light hit my face as I was running. I touched my sweaty face and thought nothing of it. Then I felt it again, the sensation of a droplet.

Gradually, it started to rain. The trees above me acted as a canopy, so the rain barely slowed me down.

Because we were in New Mexico, there wasn’t much rain, not heavy at least. The average amount of rainfall we got a year in July was two inches; that’s not a lot.

I think I was seven years old when my parents took me out for my birthday. We went to see a movie and then had a picnic in the park.

The weather was absolutely beautiful, it was seventy or seventy-five degrees, but there was a nice breeze.

We were in the middle of eating our salads and sandwiches when I felt something light touch my face. I looked up, and I felt a water droplet splash into my eye.

My parents were packing up the picnic, and it soon started to pour rain. We weren’t going to get to the car in time, even if we left the food out.

I began to run around in the rain with my arms up, palms up to the sky, laughing and giggling.

My father started to chase me. My mother looked positively annoyed, but after watching us run, she smiled.

I couldn’t remember if she got up and chased me too, or if she just sat and watched. It didn’t really matter to me.

We all had a cold for the next week, but it was worth it to have one of the best days of my life.

I slowed my pace as I got to a clearing in the woods. I remember falling to my knees.

I grabbed the grass underneath me, rubbing the blades between my fingers. I could feel them squeaking as my fingers moved across them.

I felt water droplets move down my hair and touch my scalp, running down my forehead, onto the tip of my nose. Tears began to do the same.

I rubbed my face and with one swipe, I pushed back my hair and it stuck to my head. I turned around at the sound of footsteps crushing the grass behind me.

James was huffing, bent over, looking at me.

“Please,” I screamed, my voice raspy. “Please let me have this moment. I’m never going to experience this again,” I cried. I stood up and turned to him. He looked at me in bewilderment.

I choked on my sobs and tilted my head back. I laughed at the sound of the rain. I can’t remember why. I stood in the pouring rain and sobbed. I think I even screamed at the sky.

“He’s gonna be pissed,” James said. I walked closer to him.

“Why don’t you just kill me then?” I asked. I remember thinking that I wasn’t supposed to be there.

I should’ve been in that clearing with a boy. I should’ve been able to ask something normal. He should’ve kissed me. I almost wanted James to, just to feel something.

He stood up straight and looked down at me.

“You couldn’t have picked better weather for this?” he asked. I think I laughed. I wanted to go home.

“Why won’t you answer me?” I asked, slightly more irritated. He made me so angry. The way he spoke, how demeaning and condescending he sounded. And the way he stood, like he owned me.

“What?” he asked, sounding annoyed and impatient. That was when I snapped. I stepped closer and grabbed his wet shirt.

“Why can’t you just kill me and get it over with? You’re going to do it anyway, why not now?” I said, standing.

“Don’t pretend like you’re above that either. I bet you’re just like him. Are you going to get off on me too?” I pushed him.

I was filled with so much angst, so much aggression. Lexi would have been shocked to witness the rage I had.

James grabbed my wrists and held me there.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked. It was a fair judgment. I was just asking to be hurt. “I’m not like that,” he said, softly.

“What? You’re not like what? A pedophile, like that sick pervert?” I asked, anguishing over my own experience.

“A-a what? No! I don’t do that,” he shouted over the rain. They all say that, don’t they? That it would never be you, that you’d never hurt a girl like that.

But when a wolf gets comfortable in their cave, they forget that it wasn’t theirs to begin with.

“Show me. Show me you’re not like them,” I pleaded. I remember feeling light-headed after that. I swayed and craned my head. James reacted, from what I saw, like he was ready to catch me.

I regained my footing. He let go of my wrists and did something I would never forget. He moved the hair out of my face, tucking a strand behind my ear.

“I didn’t know he would do that to you,” he said. I stepped back, wobbly.

“He didn’t. That’s why I ran because he was going to. He bathed me and pet me like I was a little girl. He talks to me like I’m a child. If you take me back, he’s going to do it,” I said, looking down.

“No, he won’t,” James paused, “It’s going to be much worse.” He reached for my waist and I screamed.

“Wait, wait!” I cried. He stopped and sighed impatiently. I wanted to go back on my own terms. For a minute, he looked at me. We were just standing in the rain staring at each other.

I looked around and took in a deep breath of the night’s air. I looked back at him and shut my eyes tightly.

James hesitantly scooped me up and threw me over his shoulder. On the way back, I talked to him, begged him.

I told him I wouldn’t tell a soul what I saw, that I’d stay quiet. I told him it would be better to kill me then if he had to, or if he knew there would be worse. But he didn’t say a word.

I could feel him taking deeper sighs, some of them shakier than others.

Even though I cried the whole way back, there was a part of me that felt I was one step closer to my goal.

He was tender to me, human in fact. It was possible that he could be further swayed and that was enough.

When we arrived back at the cabin, Highroller was waiting for me. He sat smugly on the stairs, his elbows resting on his knees. James threw me down on the floor and I hit my hip against the tile.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in!” Highroller exclaimed.

I pushed myself up so that I was sitting, pressing my thumb into where my hip bone hit the floor. I turned over on my knees to stand but I felt a heavy boot stomp on my calf.

My body stiffened as Highroller crushed his heel into my leg and he grabbed my hair. When I tried to pull away, my matted, wet hair slipped from his grasp.

I went to scramble away from him but he grabbed my hair tighter.

“Apologize for wasting my and James’ time,” Highroller said. I remember feeling really small then. Highroller yanked at my hair and I winced.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Highroller,” I paused with tears in my eyes. “I’m sorry, James.” He didn’t look at me.

Highroller lifted me to my feet by my hair, and I stumbled to follow him. I could feel him ripping out a couple of strands.

“Ungrateful girl,” he growled in my ear. Highroller walked away with my hair, and I stumbled after him. My head was pounding from the tension between my hair and his hand.

When I looked back at James, he was gone.

Highroller began to climb the stairs. As we were moving towards the staircase, I hit my ankle and fell. I hit my back, my legs, and my tailbone on the stairs.

“Please, stop,” I cried. I felt more hair rip from my scalp, two or three strands at a time. My head was pounding.

He kept moving up, so I had to awkwardly crawl, slipping at times because I was still wet from the rain. My hair would slip from his hand as we moved upwards.

Instead of having his hand near my scalp, it was halfway down my long tangle of hair.

When Highroller reached the top step, he wound his arm back and tried to throw me, as I had been lower than him. He pulled me up, not as far as he probably wanted, but I was at his feet.

There was a terrible ripping sound when he pulled. I held the back of my head with a shaky hand, feeling my eyes water.

I touched the most sensitive spot on my head and gently pulled on the hair until I found the end of it. I grabbed a piece near the top of my head and pulled it to my face to see it.

It was damaged and curled into a spiraled mess. I turned to Highroller and saw he had an ugly matted ball of hair in his hand.

He grabbed the back of my neck and threw me into his room. I felt the back of my head again and touched the short, tangled strands.

I backed up towards the bathroom as Highroller came towards me. He grabbed me and locked his arm around my neck, pulling me towards his bed.

I looked over at his bedside and saw a syringe next to a wooden box.

I began screaming and writhing, trying to get away from him. I felt a sharp pinch in my neck and whimpered. My vision blurred, and I lost the feeling in my hands and feet.