Chapter 7 - The Safe House Sanctuary
The interior of the cabin smelled heavily of old pine,
damp earth,
and years of undisturbed dust.
Anna moved with incredible efficiency,
locking the heavy wooden door behind us,
drawing the thick,
musty curtains over the small windows,
and immediately setting up a series of portable,
battery-operated security cameras around the perimeter.
I collapsed onto the worn,
plaid sofa in the center of the room,
the sheer exhaustion of the escape finally catching up to my battered body.
My foot throbbed with a vengeance,
the swelling pressing painfully against the rigid constraints of the medical walking boot.
"Take these,"
Anna said,
handing me a small plastic cup filled with water and two strong painkillers the hospital had prescribed.
I swallowed them eagerly,
desperate for even a momentary reprieve from the agonizing,
relentless pain.
The silence of the woods was deafening,
a stark,
jarring contrast to the chaotic,
noisy mansion I had been trapped in for the past five years.
In that massive house,
there was always the sound of heavy footsteps,
the sharp,
condescending voice of my mother-in-law,
or the terrifying,
unpredictable outbursts of my husband's violent temper.
Here,
there was nothing but the wind rustling through the ancient trees,
a sound that should have been peaceful,
but instead left me feeling incredibly vulnerable,
exposed to the terrifying unknown.
Night fell quickly over the isolated forest,
plunging the cabin into absolute,
impenetrable darkness.
I lay in the small,
creaky bed in the back room,
staring up at the invisible ceiling,
every single muscle in my body tensed,
waiting for the door to be kicked open.
Sleep eventually claimed me,
but it offered no true rest,
only a twisted,
feverish labyrinth of horrifying nightmares.
I dreamt that I was back in that room,
the cold iron biting into my tied wrists,
but this time,
it was not just my husband holding the hammer.
His mother was there,
laughing maliciously,
holding a pair of silver handcuffs,
telling me that my child belonged to their royal bloodline,
and that I was merely a temporary vessel.
I woke up screaming,
my body drenched in cold,
clammy sweat,
my heart hammering violently against my ribs.
Anna burst into the room instantly,
a heavy iron fireplace poker clutched tightly in her hands,
her eyes wide with panic.
"It was just a dream,"
I sobbed,
pulling my knees to my chest,
rocking back and forth in the dark.
"It was just a nightmare,
but it felt so incredibly real."
Anna dropped the poker,
rushing to the bed and wrapping her arms tightly around my shaking frame.
Suddenly,
a strong,
vigorous kick hit the inside of my stomach,
followed by another,
and then another.
The baby was awake,
moving rapidly,
as if trying to comfort me,
reminding me of the beautiful,
innocent life I had fought so hard to save.
I placed my trembling hand over my belly,
taking a deep,
shaky breath,
realizing that from this moment forward,
I was entirely responsible for this child.
I was a single mother,
a survivor,
and a warrior who had walked through hell,
May you like
and I swore to the silent night that I would never,
ever let those monsters touch us again.
