Twisted Deceit (Deceit #3)

Chapter 19

Spring was ten times better than the winter months. Sure, there could still be a snowstorm or two, but mostly, the sun was out and the days were warmer. And longer.

The nights didn’t seem so long these days, and the earth felt like it was waking up after a long slumber. Even the birds were out and about, collecting twigs and dead grass for their nests.

Not much for me had changed over the winter months, other than getting a cold that had lasted a few days too long.

I still struggled with talking, even though a few times when I was on my own while Dawn was at work, I tried to use my voice. It hadn’t ended well, and I hadn’t tried again for a few months. No one cared that I wasn’t talking, so why should I?

My sessions with Dr. Shaw went down to every other week, since there weren’t any new things to discuss, and even then, it was starting to be pointless. Between her and Dawn, they knew everything I’ve been through, or close to it. They knew about the hands that wanted to reach out from my brain and drag me back to that time, too.

There weren’t too many days where that happened anymore, but they did sneak up once in a while.

All I could do here on out was take it one day at a time. Some were better than others.

I had yet to go to a real school, which I was more than okay with. People and I would never mix well. That was the main thing that set off my anxiety.

I did fairly well in stores or restaurants, as long as I wasn’t on my own for too long. If I was, I kept to a certain task and made it out alive. So far. I’d be slightly panicky at the end, but I was starting to learn my limits as the days went by.

There were some days where I pushed myself too far, which ended up with me having a long night of anxiety that Dawn didn’t know about. She had enough to worry about as it was.

In the past few months, she’d gotten letters, and phone calls, from her parents regarding me. All of which she ignored as much as possible. Although, she had accepted the savings account that her father started for me, since it’d helped me build a future for myself when the time came along.

I didn’t see myself ever moving too far away from her, but she had a point. If I did move out of this house, and with no way to hold a job down due to my issues, I would need that money to live off of. Sure, there were government run programs to help, but that only reached so far and even I knew that depending on such a thing wouldn’t help me in the long run.

I didn’t want to depend on anyone, ever. Not even Dawn, but right now, I didn’t have much choice. Being almost seventeen didn’t give me that many options.

It amazed me still, over two years since Dawn came to my rescue, and I was still here.

It’d been the longest I’ve stayed in one place since my parents washed their hands of me.

Two years of trials and errors. Two years of finding what a mother’s love could do. Two years of healing.

I still had years of healing, since parts of my soul and heart would forever be broken in a way that wasn’t fixable with time. But I was still alive when I was sure I’d be dead by this time.

I always figured I’d die by the hands of men who wanted my body, stealing my soul in the process. Instead, I found hope. I found a reason to live.

Now to find peace to live with the past that couldn’t be changed.

I feared that would always be a struggle, even though I pretended otherwise.

The past, no matter how much time seemed to pass, would not only haunt me during the day, but those long nights where the thoughts creeped into my mind. Which then, in turn, led to sleepless nights.

So far, I’ve been able to refuse meds to help me sleep through the night, and I could continue to do so until there was no other option. I’d spent enough of my life being forced to sleep while men messed with me, all for me to wake up and question what really happened.

The only medicine I took willingly, other than the headache reducer once in a while, was my anti-anxiety med at the times I felt like the world was about to crumble down around me. One too many times I had felt like I was dying when I couldn’t get a good breath in, even with Dawn’s help of talking me down from an attack.

When a stronger breeze brushed against my face, I forced my mind back to the present. The swing was still holding strong, despite the snow and wind we had gotten this winter. And with it, bone chilling cold. Never before had I been thankful to having so many blankets when I once thought one was more than enough.

I was still slowly getting used to the idea of having too many items. No normal human being needed so much, but Dawn kept buying me things she thought I needed.

My closet was more than full now, even though I hadn’t outgrown a single thing she’d bought, despite her hope that I’d at least grown a bit taller. Sadly, I’d be forever stuck at being just five feet even. Even the doctors hadn’t had much hope of me growing any taller due to the lack of nutrients for so long. And even one of them thought I should have died when I was child, which really, I probably should have.

I did gain some weight, but even that seemed to have tapered off. I wasn’t a huge eater as it was, but I was trying. That had to count for something. I forced myself to eat at least two decent meals a day, and a snack or two.

I wasn’t counting the cookies as snacks though. Those are what kept me going some days, even the healthier options that I made.

Surprisingly, I was good at making cakes and cookies. When there were extra treats, we’d take some to the neighbor. Although her grandsons were there off and on to help clean out her house, I never saw more than a passing glimpse as they came and went. They weren’t making much progress either, it seemed. Or they were taking their time. Either was a possibility.

I lifted my head from gazing at the ground as tires crunched over gravel. It was too early for Dawn, but sometimes she came home earlier to check on me, or to drop off take out for dinner if it was going to be a late night of paperwork.

Who knew selling houses took so much time. I sure didn’t, but it was something she loved to do. And she was great at it, since she worked so much.

Waiting for the back door to open, I was startled when someone rounded the side of the house, walking between mine and Mrs. Lee’s.

My heart stuck in my throat as two boys came into view. One I knew only by name, the same one I tried to not ever see if I could help it. The other, I had yet to meet.

Jasper waved my way before heading towards his grandmother’s house. His sweater hid the tattoos on his arms, although I wouldn’t have been able to see them clearly from my swing anyways. The other boy said something to him before he jogged towards me.

My hands clasped the rope tightly as my heart picked up speed just a bit. My heart, at least, wasn’t goinga million miles an hour, so that was progress.

“Hey,” the boy greeted, stopping about a yard away from me. This close, I could see the darker blue eyes as he looked me up and down, like he wasn’t sure he should even be talking to me. “I’ve been hoping to catch you out here. I’m Trace.”

I blinked, not caring.

“You’re never outside when my brother makes me come here to help,” he went on, not seeming to be too bothered by my lack of response. “But Grams said you are always out.”

How long would it take him to figure out the reason for that?

“You don’t gotta hide from us. We won’t hurt ya. Plus, if I’m stuck here for the summer, I’d like to have a friend. Whatcha ya say?”

No thanks?

“Well, I’ll see ya around then, man.”

I rolled my eyes as he turned his back. That was going to put a damper on my summer. I was used to the quiet of the world out here.

So much different than hearing cries and sirens and abuse every waking and sleeping moment.

Here, there were birds, the wind, and nothing but my thoughts.

I never wanted to move to a city again. This type of life was what I wanted.

“Oh!” Trace stopped a few feet away before turning back around to face me. “The cookies you made last time were the bomb! My brother loves oatmeal, even though he hates that kind.”

That’s what most people said when they tried them. Everyone always thought oatmeal in a cookie made it uneatable, but not if it was cooked right. Although, no one needed to know how many times I had to remake the batch to get the texture just right to make them seem healthier than they were.

“Grams can’t stop talking about all the goodies you make her. So, uh…thanks. I think that’s all she’s been eating lately anyhow.”

I figured the last part. The last few months, Mrs. Lee had grown a bit weaker, leaning heavier on a cane when she answered the door.

I nodded once, already thinking of ways I could make other healthier options that would taste good.

I never had a grandma, but Mrs. Lee was like one to me, even though I never talked. She understood me in a way, or maybe she just liked the company. There had been too many times to count that I had wondered over there when I couldn’t stand to be alone for a bit. She’d talk about her grandkids a lot. And also, about how she was fighting tooth andnail to not move into an old folk's home.

She was a lot like me, finding something peaceful in the country where the world moved too fast outside of the land we called home.