“What are you doing?” my voice broke slightly, and I realized that I was trembling under his touch, whether from fear, from the memories of last night, or from uncertainty, I wasn’t sure.
“I love you,” he breathed.
“I love you, too,” I said, laughing nervously, my voice so soft that I wasn’t quite sure he could hear me. Shay had told me he loved me hundreds of times over the years. I always responded with the same sentiment. But for some reason, as he whispered those words to me now, I could feel my blood racing in my veins, and felt suddenly light-headed. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear someone say those words to me.
“No one loves you more than I do.” He turned his head so that he could look into my eyes, his nose barely touching mine. “You know that, right?”
I didn’t understand where this was going, but I nodded anyways, worried by the piercing look on his face. My anxiety was starting to spike, especially when he reached up and cupped my face with one of his rough hands. What did he want?
The corners of his mouth curled up in that rare, beautiful, familiar smile I liked so much, only this time, it felt a little ominous. “Last night... you understand why I did that to you?”
At the mention of the spanking, I blanched a little, shaking slightly as his hand shifted so that he was holding my chin in his fingers. “Yes,” I breathed, my voice lost.
“Because you were being smart with me.”
“Yes.”
“You want me around, don’t you?”
I nodded, though it was stilted by his hold.
“Then be a good girl, and I will. I’ll be right here, and I’ll keep you safe.” When he leaned forward, I knew he was going to kiss me, like he usually did on my cheek or forehead. But this time, his lips touched mine, lightly brushing over them, like a whisper. My eyes went wide and I froze, completely caught off-guard. The barely-there-kiss didn’t last for more than a few seconds before he pulled back, and wrapped his arms around me, hugging me against his chest.
I believed him. He would keep me safe. He would make sure no one ever hurt me again. That promise made my heart constrict and I clung to him as we settled in to sleep. As usual, when he is at my side, the nightmares stay away...
The Past…
Mina: Thirteen Years Old
July
It had only been a few days after my thirteenth birthday and here I was in an old, rundown theatre, which sat outside the east end of town. It had been abandoned years ago when the owner went bankrupt and no one had stepped forward to claim the property. Like the old railroad that ran along behind it, nature began to reclaim it, and soon, you could barely see the small, two story structure from the road. But I’d found it on one of those days that I had snuck out of my house to get away from all the bullshit. I ventured into town and let my feet guide me. I wandered down the old rail line, trying to balance on the metal bars without falling, when I noticed a large obstruction through the trees; a vine covered, shadowed heap that did not belong there. It was the theatre. The paint outside was peeling, the tiles on the roof cracked and broken, and all the windows were smashed out. The inside is no better. Every wall is covered with graffiti, and the old theatre style red leather seats split open, the stuffing falling to the floor and the air was musty and smelled like old wood, which I actually loved. The stage I practiced on was still good, though. The floor was solid, clear, and after I carefully inspected it, testing the boards with my weight, I found it to be sound. The windows on the upper floor of the theatre have all been smashed out, and golden rays of sunshine streamed in, illuminating the place with its ethereal light.
I threw myself into dance over the past few years, making it my number one passion. I practiced after school most days at the little studio in town, but when I didn’t have class, I started coming here, to this neglected building.
But, of course, I wasn’t the only one who knew about this place.
I’m pretty sure every teenager from the high school came here on weekends to drink and hangout without the prying eyes of neighbors, parents, or cops. There were smashed bottles scattered on the floor around the seats, which were arranged in a semi-circle, ascending the steps so that the audience back in the day were looking down upon the stage. Whenever I arrived, if there was a mess left behind on the platform, I used the old janitorial broom I’d found in the back, and swept it clean before I started.
I’d only been using it for two weeks, but I liked it here.
I liked the seclusion and the fact that no one knew I was here. That was a bonus. Shay could drive the streets on his bike and he couldn’t see me in here. Mum wouldn’t show up drunk like she occasionally did at the studio that my teacher, Miss Riley, owned. James and the other club members wouldn’t appear and scare off the other students and parents. No, this place was mine for a few hours each week, from when I finished school at three-thirty, to five-thirty, when I had to get home before my stupid six o’clock curfew.
I moved across the stage, going through my steps for what felt like the millionth time. I tried to make my movements as graceful as possible… empty your mind… be formless, shapeless, like water… Thank you, Bruce Lee.
I finished practicing my spins and stopped for a moment, breathing hard as I stood with my hands on my knees, catching my breath. My recitals were done for the year, but I had my summer all planned out. I was going to practice and practice until my toes bled, until my muscles felt like they were going to give out on me from fatigue. I wanted to be the best. I wanted to keep in top form. I believed, prayed, that one day I would become a ballerina… the ballerina. The star of the show.
I thought about those words I’d read so many years ago, and felt my heart constrict as warmth flooded me, a reaction I got every time I remembered what Keenan Mathers had written to me…
I can see you living in the big city, dancing for a company as their prima ballerina. I know, I know… I haven’t even seen you dance… but you have passion, Sunshine. I want to see you do great things.
Well, I clung to those words. Ever since I’d read them, I’d decided that dance was going to be my ticket. My ride or die. If I practiced enough, if I pushed myself, then one day his words would come true. While every other kid my age is out enjoying their summer swimming, hanging out with each other at the mall, or getting as much time outside as possible… here I was, in this run-down, ancient theatre, practicing in the golden glow of the afternoon sun, working my butt off.
The song on my phone, Elastic Heart by Sia, was playing on repeat, and as it started over, I took my place at the far end of the stage, and started my steps again. I slid forward, holding myself up on my toes as I held myself up in an arabesque position. I fought the shaking in my leg, willing myself to be strong and to hold it for as long as possible, before I swirled across the stage in a series of small Jeté’s. I braced myself, then attempted a grand Jeté, but I knew I didn’t get enough air to perform the flexible stretch that was required to nail it. I stumbled forward, staggering a foot or two before I stopped, breathing hard as I bent over my knees again. Ugh! I was so frustrated with myself. I just couldn’t get the height I needed.
“Holy crap, Sunshine.”
I straightened up at the voice, like someone had shocked me with an electric current, and stared wide-eyed up the steps to see someone hidden in the shadows, high up in the rising seats. For a moment, I felt a trickle of fear wash over me when I spotted the glowing cheery light of the cigarette. But as the dark figure brought it to his mouth, I caught a glimpse of his full lips and square jawline and my face broke into a giant grin when I realized who it was.