Raelyn

         I miss the days in the before when life was not that complicated. I miss the sad I used to be, before I knew the sadness of what holds inside the in between. I miss waking up on time and I miss having the strength to place a perfect smile on my face. This new girl that I am today, can only feel pain, I can only feel anger. I play the music downloaded onto my phone, but it doesn't run through my heart like it used to. I am living, although I am not really here. I don't even breathe anymore. I sit in the back of the room dazed, while I stare at the blinking tv, and I purposely stay awake past ten PM, it doesn't really matter though. My eyes drift off and my body will finally rest, and I am jolted awake to banging on the window. I miss the days when I could call someone, but now that I know what they say I do not dial their number. I am so lost inside of here, I wished I could call the woman with the dark hair, Hannah, I think she said her name was, but she is like a ghost. I cannot find her, I do not have her phone number, she doesn't exist on social media. I am completely alone inside of my terrors. I am afraid I will never speak again. I miss the days when I could give myself a little pep talk every time I was knocked down by the rejections of the world. Nowadays, I just simply lose myself in it. I expect it, but it hurts even more in the time capsule of the days. 

     As time goes on, things get worse. My door opens every night and the people around me despise me, I am the best topic to talk about when someone needs a joke. The bandwagon anger becomes so full, the wagon falls apart. People who pretend to love me intend to take more from me, like they haven't already put enough sadness into my life. And all I had really wanted, was to run away from it, was to get out of it, no matter what I do, I am still in it. I have searched for help, although I keep getting turned away. I had called the friend of the woman with the dark hair; I found her on the internet. I tried to explain what was becoming of me, I tried to say I needed help. I called her at ten PM, but she laughed and asked if this was some kind of joke. I walked into the coffee shop the next morning to Ashley and Brittany sharing my face on the media. I am completely alone.   

    The large man has buff shoulders, his green eyes are filled with anger that crinkle his brow, runs in with a black handheld gun. He begins to scream in my face because of the friends I start to make. He shies me away from the world and throws heavy hoodies into my dressers after he is done bruising my skin. I spend my lonely nights crying to the walls and dread the mornings I have to return to the coffee shop, that used to smell like hazelnut. 

Stephanie

       The heavy man spoke on the other line "Stephanie, I know that's you." My hands shook as they covered my face, I paced a hole into the floor. I angrily reached for the phone as I yelled into the speaker holes, "you've got the wrong number!" 

"Don't play dumb with me girl" His voice growled through the phone. 

"Who is this?" I asked trying to sound more confident than I actually was. 

I looked at the reflection standing in front of myself as I smoothed my shirt above my hips, I ran my fingers through my blonde caramel hair and stood taller than I remember.

"What do you want?" I said with a stronger voice. Memories of firm hands grasping my throat from my uncle flash through my mind, but there is so much going on all at once, there is so much that I have forgotten, and so much of this that I can't quite bring it to the surface. I crinkle my thumb inside of my brow as I am trying to breathe through the pain from this headache. The man on the opposite side of the line spoke just barely over a whisper,

"I told you yesterday, now don't play games with me." 

    I am trying to put a name to the voice, but my mind is busy, I cannot think with this growing headache. Dark shadows appear in front of me, and I distinctively remember a living room far off from this one. My head pains trying to gather up the pieces, there were brown leathered sofas, a large red area rug, bear skin that plastered the wall, a staircase that creaked and sickened my stomach. This house was big, almost too big. My mind feels split as three men in black coats swim to the surface. My finger digs into my crinkle on my forehead, I remember them whispering, it hurts to remember. The five foot nine-man pokes the older one, "you grab the girl." His hair was thick brown, he was the smallest one of the trio, he spoke to a six-foot-tall man with a rough brown beard. There was anger that staled their breath. An older woman that stood about five feet tall with a box dye perm, stepped in between them. She shoved a thin folded blanket onto the taller man, "enough!" Her whisper screamed. "Get the truck ready, I'll grab the girl." She said with a huff as she creaked up the stairs. 

    The man on the line leans forward in his chair, "bring me the gun and I'll let that little girl of yours go." My heart squeezed inside of my chest; fear speckled bubbled in my belly. I began to skim the room; I should feel warmth by a bright little girl hugging my shoulders. A feeling I had not recognized clawed out of my throat. Blood rushed hot to my face, and sharp pains rose inside of my arms from my fist, that I had not realized was balled. "Who's little girl? "My voice grew, and my heart felt like it was about to bust.  

"Stephanie, Stephanie, Stephanie." His voice tsks. "This video of yours has gone viral. I've got the footage right in front of me. Now tell me what you are going to do inside of a hot single mom's body, when you have become a joke?" He spoke to me as coffee spurred out of his mouth from the laughter. I smacked the silent tears from my face. Emotions and feelings spat back up from my belly and I did not know how to cave them back in, I have felt nothing for so long, I am unable to determine which emotion was which one, although I felt like medal had accumulated inside of my saliva, I felt like blood had swished around inside of my mouth from the scraping of my tongue, I felt this constant ringing in my ears that drove me insane and I have become a crazy fool searching for the damn buzzing. I tossed the phone and let it crack. I smashed vases, pictures, and broke the tv. Something inside of myself came alive, I was consumed with rage, I did not know how to turn it off, nor did I care. I screamed louder than I knew my lungs were capable, my screams burped out of my throat like vomit chunked in acid. I was certain the neighbors could hear my tantrum, and I am not sure if they heard two voices. 

Stephanie's Past

       The door bangs off of the hinges and a man runs out of the closet as he is he is yelling at me to the side of my face. He jerks me out of my sleep with his screaming and yells. The tall man with the rough brown beard pulls a black gun to my face, and a man with shaggy dark hair grabs hold of my bare legs. I am kicking and squirming, but I am helpless, they force rags into my mouth. The large men throw me out of the bed as I fall on to my knees, begging to stay here. I point back to the mattress that I will not leave, and I hope to just go back inside of it to lay. The large men pull the mattress off of the frame with anger as mirrors and lamps crash to the floor. Kitchen knives and weapons are beneath. The scrawnier brown-haired man rips my pillows with effortless weight, stuffing falls to his black boots. My heart sunk inside of my belly with fear, I felt breathless. Hyperventilated breaths hurt my chest; the three men circled my body as I cried, the taller one grabs the wooden lamp stool as his arm chucks back, I have fallen in a spill of my own blood. 

The Past

          My body ached and snapped as I attempted to lean forward. I felt drowsy sharp needle throbbing pain; my leg was swollen as it was wrapped in bandages. My neck popped, as I jerked in fear, my eyes strained to see past the blur. I leaned my upper body to scoot, and my arms wouldn't budge. I was straddled to a medal table. Itched sweat trickled down the side of my face, urine leaked streaks onto my thighs and down my shin. My scream gulped back down my throat and tightened inside of my pattering chest. My splitting head plopped back to the surface, as I was forced to stare at the ceiling. The room smelled of peppermints despite the chill from the dripping cave. Light thin smoke swirled above my body into round circular motions. The veins on my bare my feet bulged as they spiraled blue, they are cuffed in shambles. I felt light and I felt weak, half of myself enjoyed the heat of the room, while I lay in a bit of silence. My hair matted in globs of thick sweat, I did not know if it was black or blonde, the curiosity bounced in my thoughts, but I did not have the slightest care to find out. My brain hurts from the constant noise, the constant pleading for help all the while I am in need of saving. I battle with the thought of sleep; however, it just looms over me. My heavy eyes fall deeply as my body floats from my spirit, I am unphased by the hard surface I confused for a cloud, along with a soft, linen blanket. My eyes would argue with my mind, as they fight to stare at the swinging lamp that hangs. My body feels twisted and pulled as I sink inside of this ongoing dreadful, sickening spin. My eyes close and open again and again, glimpses of the grey-haired man stand at my feet, as my neck leans up and down. He is speaking slow in a language I cannot comprehend; his hands are smashing, mixing herbals inside of a bronze, glass bowl. I wail in pain, I wail in sadness, I wail in love, and I disappear inside of sleep. My legs wiggle and my fist cradle the buckles around my wrist, pleasure crawls onto my body like a spider and it bites as he tare's my belly. Trees crack and split as they grow inside of the darkness of the cave, medicine bottles on the shelves shake, and tip. Sexual desires from my deepest fantasies enter and exit from my mind, I moan for the craving of more. I spread my legs and bend my neck. The grey-haired man covers my body in juices from the ceramic bowl. I snicker and grin as my tongue swipes my teeth. He continues to speak calmly as the trees bust and grow around us, his voice begins to rise when he circles to my head, his hand reaches quickly and firmly inside of a clench straight to my chest. I inhaled heavily, as if it were my first breath from drowning. Emotions cut through my skin as I have forgotten that I have a soul, my body caves in as I sob unknowingly wept tears. I do not fight back the screams that crawl out of my throat from reactions that have taken over.

     Screaming faces rise from out of my belly, it moves forward like it is stuck in plastic, unable to move or reshape its face. I felt a pull of love wrap around the elder man’s boney hands. The screaming souls web up and down. The face quickly shrinks as it is sinking toward my body. The elderly man wraps the soul around his finger like a yo-yo string, the face flies in circles like it is trapped inside of its own fear. The swinging lamp above my head spins faster, faster, faster, faster; until the bulb shatters with flaming sparks. The elderly man flattens his hands an inch away from my body as he speaks almost in song. Coughing dust smokes the floor, from the roof of the cave. I stretch my thin arms through the buckles slapped onto my wrist, my back cracks as I deflate. Unstoppable screams have lumped out of my throat, from the tugging, the whooshing, the crushing, and the smearing by his boney hands. My teeth are shooting out spit while they grit, I pop my jaw bones in and out of place, acid rises inside my belly like lava, my knees wobble as they bend, sudden anger releases from my vocal cords. The screaming soul's cloud in white fog above me. Large cracks zig-zag onto the caved walls, an invisible yo-yo string connects itself to my heart and mind. Raging roars rumble from my belly, as I cut the elderly man off with his chiming. My bulging veined wrist rip the buckles, as the medal cuts through my skin. I toss the medal table across the medicine bottles, and I walk with a plan inside my head. I leave the elderly man crumbling in dust. 

-Micah Vincent