Page 17 of Twisted Salvation
One Week Later
When I woke upthe day after almost dying, I shut down. I refused to speak or even get out of bed. Luckily, no one needed to talk to me about the charges. Dominic tried various ways to get me to talk, but I wouldn’t. I was numb and emotionless. I refused all help and just laid in bed. Dominic all but threatened to sedate me to be able to check my wrists, so I let him. He took as long as he possibly could so I could get some kind of human contact.
It took me all day to let him help me in the bathroom. I got to the point where my body was about to not give me a choice, so I caved. After, I went back to laying in bed. He sat with me a lot, but after about two days, he stopped trying to make me talk. By day three, though, I willingly ate.
I was in so much pain, but I refused medication. I needed it as a reminder that I was alive. As long as I was in pain, it kept the demons away. They couldn’t drag me into the fire if I was already in my own personal hell.
Today, Dominic didn’t give me a choice but to get out of bed. I have to be in court today, so I need to find a way to talk. I’ve been considering maybe just texting him. He sat me down at his kitchen table a short while ago, and I have been watching him make me an omelet.
I decide to force myself to pick up the phone that he got me and send a text.
I feel numb. I don’t like it.
Dominic
Literally or emotionally?
Emotionally.
How can I help?
I need to feel something again. I’m not in pain now, and the darkness is creeping in. I’m scared of how far I’ll fall.
Where is your head?
Drowning in anger.
Youwill need to talk in court, so we need to find a way to make you feel without it hurting.
Yes…
Any ideas?
None that you are interested in.
What do you mean?
Exactly what I said.
Myra. Can you explain what you mean in more depth?
Just forget it. It’s okay. Coercion is still rape, right?
Myra. I’m not a mind reader, Blossom. I’m not going to assume and be wrong.
I already asked, and you said no. Not until I heal. I still have stitches in my arm. No means no, and I’m not about to make you feel obligated to do something out of pity for my broken brain. My problems are not your problem.
Dominic sets his phone down after reading my message and brings me a plate. “Eat, please,” he says gently. Without aword, I start eating my food. I have to go slow so I don’t strain my wrists. When I get done, I stand with my plate.
“I’ve got it,” he says. I roll my eyes at him and drop the plate on the table before turning and walking out of the kitchen. I hear him sigh, but I don’t stop. I’m so fucking angry. That’s all I feel, and I fucking hate it.
When I get back to the bedroom, I pick up the dress slacks on the bed and start trying to get myself dressed. I can’t pull them up, and it infuriates me.
“Goddamn it,” I scream and kick the pants off my leg.
Dominic gently grabs my waist and turns me to face him. “Breathe with me for a second,” he says with a calm voice.
“I’m done fucking breathing,” I yell at him. I try to push him away, but he catches my elbows before I can put pressure on my wrists. “I’m so goddamn angry, and I can’t make it stop. I didn’t fucking deserve that!”
