Page 5 of Reclaiming Adelaide

Now he’d vowed to destroy everyone I’ve ever known.

The white walls bore down on me like giants looming over ants. My breath caught in my chest, constricting it until I couldn’t suck in a single breath.

My hand slammed against the imposing fortress around me as I collapsed to my knees, my stomach churning.

Not again.

Not again.

I stood and ran into the bathroom.

My stomach cramped, and I heaved forward, emptying its entirety into the toilet.

Crawling to the counter, I used it to steady myself on my feet, then brushed my teeth, my gaunt face staring back at me in the mirror. My pale skin and dark circles under my eyes only added to my misery.

A door slammed, and I jumped.

I peered out the bathroom door, down the hall, and to the front. The deadbolt hadn’t moved from its locked position, and there wasn’t a noise to be heard inside the apartment.

The tremor in my hands lessened as the threat dissipated. Running my toothbrush under the faucet, I tossed it onto the counter and grabbed my hand with my other, willing the remaining shakes to stop.

Once they calmed, I rinsed my mouth with water, then went into my room for clothes, needing more than a t-shirt and panties if I wanted to go home.

That’s all he wanted me in, and I was okay with it. It made his touch against my skin effortless.

Now, his touch hurt.

I dug into my dresser, moving as fast as my pained stomach would allow to find something to cover my lower half. It was only a two-mile walk home.

Black sweats with a drawstring and elastic around the ankles sat in the back of the drawer. These would do. I’d blend into the night, and so long as I stayed on the sidewalk, that wouldn’t be an issue.

I slipped on the sweats and grabbed a long sleeve because even though the sun caused sweat to drip from your pores, the night made you vibrate with chattering teeth.

I sat on the couch, turned the TV off, and slipped on my shoes. My phone lay on the ground where he tossed it in front of my face near the kitchen, and the blanket we’d shared lay crumpled on the couch.

An unexpected urge to clean things up slapped me across the face like an icy hand of reason.

I darted for my phone, tucked it into my bag, and bolted out the door, not bothering to lock up behind me.

If people wanted to take what was there, they could have it. I wouldn’t be coming back.

It was half-past midnight, and this part of the city was asleep, unlike downtown. Not even the crickets chirped.

My feet hit the pavement, my gaze darting over my shoulder every ten paces. My heart shuddered inside my chest, my breaths rapid and achy, and the hairs on my neck rose to attention. There were eyes everywhere, yet nowhere.

Street lights illuminated the tar every twenty steps.

I counted them.

Each time I hit twenty, the light consumed me, and a heaviness slipped off my shoulders, but the moment I stepped away from it, the burden of night crept back in and weighed me down.

I quickened my pace, challenging myself to lessen the distance between—my heels hitting the cement with deafening thuds.

Two steps, and I was back in the dark. I clutched my bag tighter, keeping the tears from my eyes as the haunting darkness in his gaze plagued me.

My skin crawled and tingled like tiny ants making their march across my body. With tense muscles, I continued on the sidewalk, praying my house would spring up.

Blackness swept over the trees, streets, and upcoming yards. A dog barked in the distance, and the pungent scent of dewy grass hit my nose.