Drowned In Silence

15. Its Him

Its Him

Dynah

Handcuffs fucking hurt. They rub my wrists raw, and they are colder when I walk outside. The officer escorting me isn’t a happy man, he’s probably judging to see if he has been to my room before or something. He looks familiar, but I’m not positive.

It’s only been three days since I talked to that officer lady, and somehow they have already pinned it on me. Maybe if they would have paid a little more attention to the people in and out of my room, they would have realized I didn’t fucking do it.

“Can you loosen these cuffs, please? They hurt,” I complain to him.

He grunts but doesn't say a word. When we get to the patrol car, he ushers me in, barely protecting my head, and not paying attention to see if my feet are even in before shutting the door. Thankfully, they are .

“Do I at least get a phone call once we get there?” I ask as the first officer's partner slips into the passenger seat.

“Yes, now hush,” he replies.

I do my best to not cry, not say another word, and not wiggle around. I don’t even know why I’d ask if I get a phone call, it’s not like I have anyone to call.

The only person who comes to mind is the Mirror Man who is also apparently my stalker. Jokes on me though, because he probably has all of my info, yet I still don’t know who he is. It’s obvious that he is the actual killer. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be getting charged with this shit.

When we pull up to the station, it’s surprisingly dead. I figured there would at least be a reporter or two outside waiting for my arrival, but of course, no one cares.

The officer pulls me out of the backseat, takes me into the small station, throws me in the holding cell, locks the door, and walks away.

At least it’s quiet here.

Sitting down and taking note of my surroundings, I look down at the floor. How did I get here? How did I fuck up so bad in my life that I am sitting in a jail cell without anyone to call. I may be stupid sometimes… Stupid enough to let my parents torture me and sell me for years. Stupid enough to continue to do it when I finally left. Stupid enough that I haven’t just killed myself yet.

I’m interrupted with a plethora of voices. One in particular sends chills down my spine. Someone I haven’t heard in years.

It’s him.

I haven’t seen him in years, and I don’t want to see him now. The police must have called him before they picked me up and he’s come to get me. I haven’t talked to him, seen him, or heard anything since I fucking left five years ago. I moved to a different city to get away from them. They can’t do this! I’m over the age of eighteen. What could he have told them to have the ability to take me home?

“Hello, Dynah.”

I stare at my father’s cold eyes. He might be smirking at me now, but he will be full of humor later.

“Hello, Robert,” I reply with equal enthusiasm.

His eyes dilate in anger. I’ve never spoken to him with a hint of cruelty. However, I’m not the meek little girl I used to be. I still don’t think I’ll be able to defend myself, though. He has always had strength over me.

“You’re coming home with me, Dynah. No fighting. You’ve done enough here. Do you understand?” He comes closer to the bars, whispering just loud enough for me to hear. “I told them you’re not in your right mind and that you ran away. Be a good girl and come with me. We both know what will happen if you don’t play along.”

I hold my anger and fear in, locked down into the abyss where I try not to go. I can’t explode in front of him, he already has enough ammo against me, I can’t give him more. “Yes, Father.”

“Good,” he tells me, before turning to the officer who opens the cell. “Thank you. I’ll be making sure she doesn’t get into any more trouble on the way home.”

The long ride in his car is just as uncomfortable as my showers after work. It’s quiet, I can feel the pain already starting, and I can hear his voice in my head mentally berating me and putting me down .

“As soon as we get home, you will get on your knees and pray for your sins. Do you understand?”

“I don’t pray anymore,” I reply without thinking.

“I don’t give a fuck what you do and what you don’t do. I just saved your ass from being taken to prison, and now you're headed back to your home . If you live under my roof, you will obey my rules. You know this! You were always the most ungrateful child I ever had,” he yells from the driver’s seat.

We pull up to the house a while after his screaming monologue, coming to an abrupt stop in the driveway.

“Go,” he commands.

I open the door and get out, look around, and that’s when I see him. My masked man, pulling in behind us and parking across the street. I look to my father who isn’t paying attention, and then back at the mysterious stalker of mine. He fucking followed us from two towns over, all the way here, just to what? See my face?

Trying to motion for help, I wave my hands, keeping my arms to my side. If my father sees me waving at him, it will be game over for everyone.

“Hurry up, Dynah. I don’t need the neighbors seeing you out here.”

I take a few steps back, meeting the eyes of the Mirrored Man across the street. He cocks his head, staring directly at me, and shoves his hands into his pockets.

He’s not going to save me. I’m going to have to follow my father.

Damnit!

I flip him off and spin around.

Might as well get this over with, I guess.

I walk into my parents' house, and shut the door behind me. Shutting out the one person who has enough strength to save me.

I don’t know if I will come back out of this door… Let alone leave the house ever again.