Chapter 26

I woke up in a cold sweat, the lingering images of another nightmare slowly receding from my mind. I tried to recall the events, but they were murky like swamp water. All I could remember was a light in the woods; every step I took toward it seemed to pull it farther away. I could hear Riley’s voice from the direction of the light, but the words were garbled, and I couldn’t make them out—or I simply couldn’t remember them.

Now awake, I looked around my empty room and gazed longingly toward the side where Riley had slept. I wished more than anything that she were there, since I didn’t know what was waiting for me this morning. The events of last night felt like a nightmare, too, and I wished they’d disappear like the nightmare I’d just awakened from, but I knew that wasn’t possible.

I reached for my phone to check the time; 6:00 a.m. Dawn had broken over the horizon, and a few streaks of sunlight snuck around the curtains. I thought about going back to sleep, since I had nowhere or anything to do today. Hiding in my room sounded like a viable plan, too—hiding from the repercussions of the previous night for as long as possible. As I lay my head back down, I could feel the damp pillow still wet with sweat. The thought of more nightmares didn’t seem much better than the nightmare of my reality.

Even though I was tired and hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in a couple of days, I figured it might be a good idea to go for a run this morning. I hadn’t run since before Riley arrived, and even then it was before my night with Brad and Tucker, which was nearly a week ago. It felt like a long time, but it’s only been a week since I let myself be shared, humiliated, and even dominated by that man. I almost felt a longing for that time, thinking it was simpler than the world I’m living in now. At least that part of me could stay secret, known only to the participants ... and Riley, when I chose to tell her.

Now things were more messed up, with Mom knowing most of what I’d been doing, though thankfully not my time with Brad. Somehow, our encounters had slipped past her very watchful eye which made it seem like a little sanctuary from my deteriorating reality. I knew I needed to talk to him tonight, because I’d imagine he’d have questions about what had happened last night. It was good of him to personally come down and check what was happening during the argument. I think it was the thing that poured cold water on all of us for the time being. I’d have to thank him for that tonight.

I pulled open the curtains to check the weather and let some natural light into the room. I walked around naked, searching for my running gear. I’d stashed it quickly after doing laundry before Riley arrived but didn’t remember where some of it was. I found my shorts in my underwear drawer and my running bra in my shorts drawer. I eventually located one of my shirts in the closet next to the laundry hamper. Dubious if it had been washed, I did the sniff test to find out how much it stank; it smelled neutral, not ‘springtime fresh’ clean but not ‘three-day old socks’ dirty. Good enough.

I put on a basic pair of panties and got dressed in my scavenged clothes. I’d have to sort through my drawers and things at some point to put things back where they needed to be. I knew my running shoes were by the front door, having left them there after the last run I’d been on with Dad. I wasn’t sure if Dad would want to join me for this one, so I grabbed my phone holster just in case. I walked over to my bedroom door and opened it, uncertain about what I’d find when I left the security of my room.

The smell of fresh coffee greeted me first, as did the sound of someone moving around in the kitchen. I ducked into the bathroom first to relieve myself and then tie-up my hair into a ponytail. I looked at my face in the mirror as I did, and my eyes looked like I’d been on a bender. I poked a finger against the dark bags under my eyes and hoped no one thought someone had hit me. My eyeballs were red and bulgy, and I couldn’t help but think I looked kind of scary. The last time I think I looked this tired was when I was twelve at a sleepover at Val’s. Val, Becca, and I decided to see who could stay awake the longest over the course of a long weekend. I won, having not slept for nearly the whole thing. When my parents found out, they were furious. They sent me to bed immediately, but I remember looking in a mirror and I looked pretty similar.

I exited the bathroom and found Mom in the kitchen, coffee in one hand and her phone in the other. She was dressed to go into work, which wasn’t surprising since she’d taken yesterday off. She didn’t look up from her phone when I passed by but did acknowledge me.

“Morning, Jane,” was all she said.

“Morning, Mom,” was all I replied back as I headed into the living room. It was clear she was still mad at me for last night. I didn’t feel like getting into it, so I pushed past it.

I found Dad in the living room in his chair, coffee on the side table and newspaper open. He didn’t say anything to me when I entered the room. He ruffled the paper, making a loud rustling noise, which I think was his way of greeting me but not talking to me. I knew he’d still be mad, but I hoped it wouldn’t last too long.

“I’m going for a run, Dad. Would you like to join me?” I asked, hoping against hope that he might actually do it.

“I don’t think so, Jane,” he grumbled behind the grey newsprint.

“Ok, maybe another time,” I replied. I knew it was a longshot, but I had to ask.

I sat down on the floor in the living room, in the same spot I always did, and started my stretching routine. It was automatic and something I didn’t really think about anymore. I stretched my calves and the muscles in my thighs by spreading my legs and grabbing my toes. I’d hold it for a ten count, then move over to the other side, repeating the process.

I’d gotten more flexible since I’d started the routine when I began running. I was able to fully bend over with my chest pressed against my leg as I counted. It was good to feel and observe the progress I’d made. It was one of the few bright spots to come from my plan to seduce my dad.

“Do you have to do that here?” I suddenly heard Dad ask, as I shifted into another stretch.

“What?” I asked, not sure what the problem was.

“Do you have to do that right in front of me?” his voice sounded upset as he lowered the paper to look at me.

“I’m just stretching like I always do,” I said defending myself.

Mom walked in, coffee mug still in hand. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” I said standing up. “Dad doesn’t want me stretching in the living room.”

“I don’t. I know she was only doing that to tease me, but I’m not going to let it happen anymore,” Dad grumbled, throwing his paper on the coffee table.

“I ... I didn’t mean anything by it today. I just wanted to go for a run. I can turn around if you’d like or go back to my room?” I asked. My heart was breaking, as it was now becoming clear that I’d seriously damaged my relationship with Dad.

Dad responded, “Maybe you should stay in your room from now on.”

I lowered my head and started to walk towards my room when I felt Mom’s hand stop me as I passed by.

“No, you’ll do no such thing. Chris, she has every right to stretch and do whatever she needs to do in the living room, just as much as you do. You can’t cast her aside just because you can’t deal with your issues.” Mom’s voice was raised, and I expected another fight, so I tried to defuse it.

“No, he’s right Mom. I did those things originally to tease him. I’ll stretch in my room from now on.”

I pushed past her and returned to my room, shutting the door behind me. As I continued what had become my usual stretching routine, I could hear them arguing in the living room. It was another fight caused by me, and it made me want to cry. I finished early, skipping my arms and lower back, and walked back into the living room to grab my shoes. Both of my parents stopped fighting long enough for me to tie up my laces and head out the door. They started back up, as soon as the door closed. I could have listened from the other side, but I just wanted to get out of there.

As my feet reached the sidewalk, I started off towards the park at a quick pace. I just wanted to get some distance away from the building, even though I knew I’d have to go back. The warm sun felt good against my skin as I waited at a crosswalk for the light to change. I listened to a playlist of songs with a good beat to run to, which also helped lift my spirits, but I couldn’t escape the thought of what was going on back home.

I entered the park, running past the large gate Dad and I used to use as our finish line, and found the place quieter than normal. The paths had fewer people walking and milling about, and only a handful of other runners or cyclists around. It seemed to amplify my solitude as I tried to focus on my breathing and the speed of my legs. It was difficult to stay in the zone, as my mind kept wandering away to places I wished it wouldn’t. I had to wrangle my thoughts back to the current time and place on more than one occasion, as I circled the small lake in the center of the park.

Despite my wavering mental focus, my body felt good. It didn’t seem like I’d missed any time at all, and soon I rounded the final corner towards the park entrance again. As I watched the gate approach with each stride, I dreaded the thought of going back home. Within a few yards, I should have made the turn to cross the threshold of the gate, but instead, I kept going straight. I started another loop.

I didn’t care if I ran it or walked it, I just didn’t want to go back right away. I hadn’t passed the second main turn when my lungs started to burn, and my legs felt weak, but I pressed ahead anyway. I tried to ignore the pain, to push on through; after all, I’d done worse. I thought back to times I’d let Curtis and Brad use my asshole. That had been difficult and painful, but I survived it. I took solace in that and kept going, knowing I was capable of more than I thought.

It wasn’t till I made the third turn that my breathing started to go. The burning in my lungs turned into a bonfire and my throat seemed to close up with spit. I still didn’t stop, as I tried to rid myself of the fluid blocking my breathing, but it was no use. I felt gross spitting, since it was a nasty thing to do, but I didn’t feel like I had a choice. I tried to aim for the grass as much as possible but sometimes missed. I could see the paths were getting busier with more people wandering about.

As I approached the final large corner, I started coughing and gagging, as my mouth filled with fluid. I had to slow down, as I felt myself start to wretch violently. I ran onto the grass and moved behind some bushes, where I fell to my knees and started throwing up. It seemed clear, likely only water, but it felt hot and gross coming up in a public place. I hoped no one could see me, but I was wrong when a voice called me from the pathway. “Hey, are you ok?” I didn’t look up and tried to hide in the bushes, careful not to step in the puddle I had made. I heard footsteps crunch on the drying grass as they approached my hiding spot. I was busted.