Free vnNeSsa1 by Lane Tracey Page B

and disheveled. As soon as I open the door, she collapses into my arms and weeps. Soon her body is shaking so violently with sobs, her ribs feel like they’re going to break under my fingers. Her words are nearly incomprehensible through her crying. I make out “he found me,” “it started again,” “I can’t do it.” She repeats these phrases over and over. I lead her to the couch with soothing words and keep my arms wrapped around her. I stroke her head and tell her everything’s going to be all right until eventually her body stops shaking. This reminds me of the night on the restaurant bathroom floor. It also makes me think of my own demons. She takes a deep, shuddering breath.
    “Thank you, Savannah. I’ve fallen apart on you twice now.” Tink wipes her running nose with the back of her hand and I get up to fetch a tissue.
    “Glad I can be here for you,” I say, over my shoulder. My foraging takes less than a minute. I hand her a box of tissues and tuck a blanket around her sylph-like body before settling back on the couch. “You don’t have to, of course, but would you feel better if you talked about it?” Tink looks up at me then and her big, blue eyes fill with tears.
    “I had a nightmare. It was awful.” She’s crying again, quietly now.
    “It’s OK. Take it slow,” I cut in. But she has stopped talking and seems to be struggling with something. When Tink continues, she doesn’t look at me.
    “Well, you’d understand the nightmare better if you knew why I left. My mom and dad divorced two years ago. She met this guy at a bar and I swear to God he married her so he would have drinking money because he didn’t have a job.” She’s starting to talk really fast. I hand her another tissue to slow her down a little. “All he would do is sit around the house all day and drink while she worked.” She blows her nose and twists the tissue in her fingers. “I would go to school and come home and he would be drunk on the couch most days. When I turned fifteen, he started…coming after me.” She puts her head in her hands and rubs her forehead. She’s still crying, but angry at the same time. “I fought him off, but he started hitting my mom and he told me he’d beat my mom worse if I wasn’t nice to him. So…” Her face contorts and I see anguish, shame, and regret in succession. I fold her into my arms again and wait for the wave of weeping to pass.
    “I just let him do it for almost a year. He got rougher and rougher. I turned sixteen. I hated everyone. I wanted to die. Then one day, he was especially rough. I had really long hair then.” She sits up suddenly and runs both hands through her short hair. “He had me from behind like I was a dog and was yanking my hair back so hard I thought my neck was going to break. He was also slapping me. Sick pervert.”
    “My God, Tink…”
    She’s up and pacing now. “Something inside just snapped. The minute he let up on my hair, I threw my head back and I think his nose broke. He was furious and started beating me. I fought back and managed to get out from under him. I ran to the kitchen trying to get to my phone, but he was right on me. There was a knife on the table. I picked it up and stabbed him.” Her legs give out and she folds onto the floor, shaking uncontrollably.
    I’m off the couch immediately, sitting her upright, gripping her arms firmly. “It’s not your fault. None of it is your fault.”
    “I could have killed him . I’ve left my mom defenseless and he could come after me.”
    “He’s not dead?”
    “I don’t think so. I looked on the Internet as soon as I could for news about a murder in that town, but there was nothing. So far, no one’s come looking for me. Also, no one’s filed a missing person’s report.” Is there a hint of regret? She’s probably wondering why her mother isn’t looking for her.
    “Well, it’s good the police aren’t looking for you. But you’re scared he’ll come after you,