Number Ten. Fracture

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Every breathe I take is sporadic when I jolt awake, hot and sweating underneath the warm covers. Tucked into the familiar bed, the one Carter and I share.

"Baby?" Carter whispers into the darkness, his fingers combing through my wet hair. "Open your eyes"

It's not darkness, I just couldn't bear to open my eyes. As if waiting for Abel to tell me it is okay too. Carter is hovering above me, shirtless but radiating caution, I can't speak as I stare up at him.

No matter how hard I try and decipher what it is he makes me feel, there is still no conclusive answer. There's too many opinions of him rattling around in my body so it settles for nothing, as if this man in front of me is a stranger but with eyes reminding me, he isn't.

"Are you okay?" He asks and I must make an odd expression of, am I okay? Do I look fucking okay?

Fucking prick.

He backtracks, "Right, stupid question. Can I do anything to help you?"

"Help me?" I whisper, my voice hoarse and cracked from the screaming and crying.

"Yeah" He smiles, "Help"

Carter's quick, moving the blankets off of me and sliding me onto his side of the bed using my hand, his touch is softer than usual as he leans down to kiss me. It's a soft kiss that doesn't last long, it's hard to process the action as my body ignites.

The arousal that pummels through me isn't accompanied by the usual sparks of anticipation, maybe my body just knows that I enjoy what he is instigating. His kisses travel down the expanse of my body, eyes glowing happily as he pushes up the shirt I was changed into.

"God, I missed you while you while you were gone" He murmurs, before leaning in between my legs, I gasp in response.

He was talking to my body. He missed my body.

We're having sex and I can hear the whimpers of pleasure that are leaving my barely open lips, but it doesn't sound like me. Can he tell? Inside my head is vacant, but my body needs this interaction, my mind might not cope.

It is possible that the dark cloud doesn't follow me around, it follows Carter.

The town is deserted this morning, which is hardly surprising at five in the morning and I have been sitting staring at empty streets since Carter fell asleep. He has kissed my forehead and said nothing more after we finished having sex, simply rolled over and fell back asleep.

The urge to find something to stab him with has never been stronger, more palpable than any other time he has used me and then rolled off.

It's all because of these stupid claims of love, god, he says it all the time, 'because I love you'. As if it is the reason for everything, that it makes what he does okay, his delusions have always been clear but thinking sex will fix me, I can't make sense of that. He hasn't even asked, no one has, I don't even know if I want them too because no one has given me the chance to figure it out.

Like, I was kidnapped and yeah it was scary for them, where was I but now he found me and killed everyone, so it'll all be okay now. We can forget it ever happened.

What about me? What about what I feel and what I see, I can never be them and this lifestyle isn't normal to me and I certainly do not enjoy it. I never wanted this, maybe my family but never me. Dad was right, I was never right for this world.

Carter heard Mum say it, what part of it made him think he could change that. She's pretty. I'll keep her. What the fuck does that even mean? I feel like a doll on sale at Target, not a person, I can't remember the last time I felt like a person. Like someone pulled the cord on any rationality and now there's no filing away or sifting through my feelings.

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