Page 45 of Dark Therapy
But I was far removed from that reality, lost in a labyrinth of my own making—atwistedreflection of a life I no longer recognized. I was supposed to bestrong, a guiding light for others. Yet here I was, a captive in my own mind, trapped in Damien’s sinister grasp. I was his possession now, aplaythinghe could summon at will. The thought sent a shiver down myspine, and I tightened my grip around the mug as if it could anchor me to sanity.
With each passing day, my life spiraled further from my control, like a marionette with tangled strings. I could still remember the person I used to be—confident, driven, passionate about helping others heal. But that woman felt like a ghost now, a whisper drowned out by the fear and obsession that had become my new reality. How had I let it come to this? How had I allowed Damien to seep into my life, into my verysoul, to turn me into this hollow shell?
I glanced up at Emily, who was now animatedly talking about her weekend plans. The way she laughed, the ease of her movements, the light in her eyes—it was a stark contrast to the darkness that enveloped me. I wanted to be present, but my mind flickered back to Damien, his haunting laughter echoing in my ears. He had a way of slipping into my thoughts, uninvited and relentless, like a shadow that refused to fade.
The moments I spent with him were burned into my memory, and no amount of coffee could wash away the taste of fear that lingered on my tongue. I was constantly on edge, waiting for his next move, for the next twisted fantasy he would draw me into. Icould feel his presence even when he wasn’t there, a suffocating weight pressing down on me, reminding me of mypowerlessness.
“Amelia? Are you okay?” Emily’s voice cut through the fog of my thoughts, and I forced a smile, a fleeting attempt to mask the turmoil within. I was supposed to be the strong one, the one who had it all together, yet here I was, drowning in despair.
“Yeah, just… lost in thought,” I replied, my voice trembling slightly. I could see the concern etched on her face, but I couldn’t bring myself to explain.How could I possibly convey the depths of my entrapment?I couldn’t get her involved in this mess.
Emily continued, oblivious to the storm raging inside me, but I was no longer truly listening. Instead, I was adrift, contemplating the stark reality of my existence. I was Damien’s prisoner, hispuppet. Each day felt like a twisted game, and I was uncertain of how long I could keep playing before I lost myself completely.
With a sigh, I turned my gaze out the window, watching the world pass by—people laughing, living, free. A pang of longinghit me hard in the chest. Iwantedthat life, the normalcy I had taken for granted. But now, I was ensnared in Damien’s web, and it was becoming increasingly clear that there was no escape. The thought tightened around my throat, stifling any hope I might have clung to.
As I sat there, staring out into the bustling street, a chilling realization slithered through my mind. Damien wasalwayswatching. I could almost feel his eyes on me, lurking in the shadows, scrutinizing my every move. No matter where I was, no matter how far I tried to distance myself from him, his presence loomed like a dark cloud, casting an ominous shadow over my life.
It was more than just a feeling; it was a tangible dread that clawed at the edges of mysanity. I could picture him, lurking just beyond the periphery, tracking my actions, documenting every mundane detail. Even now, as I sat in this coffee shop, supposedly safe with my friend, I feltexposed. He had eyes everywhere. I could see him reviewing the footage from the cameras he had planted in my home, chuckling at my futile attempts to maintain some semblance of normalcy.
The thought of him having access to my phone made my skin crawl. I had tried to be careful, but how could I besure? He was clever, far too clever. I could imagine him sitting in his darkened lair, a devilish grin playing on his lips as he scrolled through my messages, invading my privacy with that sickening delight he took in knowing every aspect of my life. Conversations with Emily, my fleeting thoughts—all of it laid bare for him to feast on.
The implications sent a fresh wave of nausea rolling through me. I had to keep my guard up, to be strategic in how I interacted with everyone around me. I could no longer afford to be spontaneous or careless. Each word I spoke, each laugh I shared, could be twisted and manipulated into something he could use against me. He thrived on control, and the more he surveilled me, the more I felt like a marionette, dangling on strings he pulled at will.
As Emily continued to speak, her voice a soothing balm against the chaos in my mind, suddenly an idea crossed my mind. I cut her off mid-sentence, my heart racing. “Emily, I need a favor,” I said, my voice low and serious. The playful banter we had been sharing felt dangerously frivolous in the moment.
Emily paused, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “Sure, what do you need? You know I’m here for you.”
The atmosphere around us felt stifling, the laughter and chatter of the coffee shop fading into a dull roar. I turned off my phone, my pulse pounding in my ears. I couldn’t risk him somehow listening in on our conversation. The thought made my stomach twist with anxiety.
I took a deep breath, scanning the café as if expecting Damien to materialize out of thin air. I leaned closer, lowering my voice. “I don’t want you to ask any questions. Justtrustme, okay?”
Her face transformed from concern to a slight apprehension. “Okay… I can do that. Just tell me what you need.”
“I need you to buy me a teddy bear,” I said, my throat tightening as I spoke the words. “But it needs to have a hidden camera in it.”
Emily blinked at me, clearly taken aback. “Ateddybear? With ahiddencamera? Amelia, what are you talking about? Why do you need that?”
“Please,” I urged, trying to maintain my composure. “I can’t tell you why I need it, but Ireallydo.”
Emily’s expression softened, concern etching her features. “Okay, I’ll get the bear,” she said slowly, still trying to process the odd request. “But are you sure you’re okay? You sound really… anxious.”
“I’ll be fine,” I insisted, the words coming out more strained than I intended. “Just get it, please!”
Her eyes searched mine for a moment, as if looking for some hint of the truth, some reassurance that this was all just a strange joke. But I was far from joking.
“Okay,” she finally relented, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll get it. Just promise me you’ll talk to me about this when you can.”
“I promise,” I said, though I knew deep down that I couldn’t make any assurances about when or if I’d ever be able to explain everything.
I needed to find a way to get evidence, to have something—anything—that could prove what Damien was doing to me. I had no idea just how deep his manipulation ran, or how far he was willing to go to keep me under his control. But I knew, in the pit of my stomach, that if I didn’t start gathering something—some piece oftruth—I would lose myself entirely.
I thought about all the times I’d felt his presence looming over me, even when he wasn’t physically near. He was always watching, always lurking in the shadows, waiting for me to make a misstep. I had to be careful. I couldn’t let him know what I was doing, couldn’t let him figure out that I was trying to take control back from him.
If I ordered the teddy bear myself, if I used my own account, my own name, he would be able to track it. He had access to everything: my phone, my computer, mylife. He could trace the order, see the delivery address, and he would know exactly what I was up to. It would be too risky. It would be too obvious. And once he knew I was trying to gather evidence, he would stop at nothing to destroy it—and me.
That’s why I had to be strategic, calculated. If Emily bought the teddy bear for me, it would seem like a simple, innocent gesture—something a friend would do. Damien wouldn’t suspect anything. She could get it without arousing suspicion.
I couldn’t let him know that I was trying to outsmart him, to expose the reality of what he’d been doing to me. He was too dangerous, too unpredictable. And I couldn’t risk him retaliating in ways I couldn’t even begin to imagine.