CW: Abuse
Calm down. Calm down. Calm down.
Those words loop in my head. His voice. Said with such ease.
I sit on the kitchen floor. Alone. How much time had passed?
I hear the reliable creak of the front door from the other room. I need to fix that.
“I brought you some food,” his backpack thuds to the floor. “Or are you still not talking to me?” I stay quiet. “C’mon, Freya, you’re only hurting yourself, you’d feel better if you just ate something.”
A pause. “How can you act like nothing happened?” I croak. “Because nothing did happen, Freya, you overreacted again, I really think…” his voice fades as if someone had turned down the volume.
I stare at him as his face starts to morph, contorting into something malicious. Yet that wasn’t the worst part. It’s the thought that even if I could explain myself, he still wouldn’t believe me.
I need him to believe me. Tears stream down my face as his voice returns, “You’ve not been the same since the accident, that’s all it was, an accident, right? I didn’t mean it. You kept pushing, you’re always pushing over nothing. I think some yoga or maybe a bath might help you calm down…”
Calm down. Calm down. Calm down.
I sit on the kitchen floor. Alone. Ash reminiscence of the place I once called home floats by. I watch it dance between the flames. A grounding reminder, I hadn’t made it all up.
Maybe I did need to calm down, but first, I needed to get out.
