Trauma

Zerina's POV 

Don threw me into the room like I was a sack of potatoes. A disgusting one at that. My body hit the cold hard floor. I watched him walk out . I crawled fast in the dirt towards the door. 

"Please, don't close the door. I don't like the dark." But before I could reach him, the door slammed in my face. I whimpered, staring off in the dark. 

The room was small and suffocating. No windows, no light. Four solid walls that caged me in. It was a place of unimaginable terror. Where darkness and terror consumed me whole. I moved to a small corner of the room, pulling my knees to my chest and breathed. Shallow, shaky breaths. My tears could've filled a big bucket. The walls seemed to close in on me making the space feel suffocatingly small. I shivered uncontrollably as the cold seeped into my bones. The air was thick with the stench of decay and rot. 

I was fourteen when I was first brought into this room. Clarissa and Bianca took turns in whipping me to their heart contents. Blood gushed out of me to the point I thought I wouldn't survive it. That day, Nana Grace snuggled into this room to bring me a cup of water. She has always been my help, always loved me like she would've loved her child. That same day she was caught and maimed in front of me. Don caught us red-handed. He caged her, called Bianca and she whipped Nana before Florence came back and maimed her limb by limb right in front of my eyes. I still heard her screams even in my sleep. It was my trauma. A nightmare I can never get rid of. Before Nana died she looked me in the eye and smiled. "You will become so much more, little one." 

My eyes were full of tears and later Florence whipped me again before I passed out. 

Since I was fourteen, the rats truly made this room a living nightmare for me. They scurried across the floor. Their beady eyes glowing in the faint light that managed to see through the cracks. I could hear their squeaks and scurries and their tiny feet pattering against the walls. 

I know I should've been used to them climbing onto my back. Their cold fur brushing against my skin. But I wasn't. I always freeze, paralysed with fear that shook my body. 

No matter how I try to shoo them away, they still scurry back. Their sharp teeth gnawed at my fingers and toes. I'd lie awake at night, feeling their tiny bites and wondering if I will ever be free from this torment. 

The rats were just the most comfortable part of my problem. The room itself was a punishment. A place where Florence sent me whenever I disobeyed or didn't meet expectations before she came over to whip me. Her laughter bounced around the walls. 

The darkness was oppressive. It made me feel like I was drowning in a sea of nothingness. The cold every night was biting and the silence was deafening. I tried to think of the handsome, dangerous stranger I met today. The way he kissed me savagely. But when I remembered how he left me wanting for more. How he left me like every other person did in my life. The coldness , the harsh way he dumped me.

I sniffled, "Why me?!!" 

Maybe my mother left me too. I know she didn't want me. She never did . Just like everyone else in my life. 

A sense of hopelessness washed over me. I was trapped in this never-ending cycle of fear and pain. 

"Why was I even born? To suffer? If there's a god or goddess up above, why bring me into this world if you know I would never be happy. One moment I'm happy or managing to be happy, another moment, my happiness is being snatched away from me like I never deserved it." I wailed, clutching my chest through the thin fabric of my dress. "Was I so bad or evil in my past life that you decided to punish me in this life? Just fucking end my life. Haven't you done enough already? Fucking end it." I whispered brokenly. My tears flowed down my cheeks in torrents. I cried harder and harder until there were no tears left. 

Even now, I can feel the trauma lingering. A constant reminder of the terror I endured in this room. The memories haunt me, and the fear still grips me tight. Nana's screams.That disturbing peace she wore on her face when she felt death's hands clutching her life tightly. 

I'm not sure if I'll be able to fully escape the darkness of this room. 

Deep down, buried beneath the fear and obedience, I heard a small voice in my head. Feminine. Weak but still clear enough. It whispered:

"One day.. you won't be scared anymore." 

Maybe I was the one who made that up in my head. Maybe God have decided to put madness in one of the fucking problems I have in this life. But that voice was so reassuring that I was able to sleep soundly despite the rats and their bites.

What I still ask is: when will I stop being scared? When will that 'one day' come? 

I sniffled for the last time tonight before laying down on the cold hard floor. My eyes closed as I drifted off to sleep. 

"One day, I will not be scared." I chanted in my head.