Chapter Twenty-Six
Anya
I’m gasping for air, my legs screaming with each step. The woods stretch on endlessly, a maze of trees and shadows. I can’t afford to stop, not even for a moment. He’s hot on my heels, closing in with each passing second.
My heart feels like it’s about to burst out of my chest as I push myself to keep running. The morning air is chilly, and the dampness clings to my skin, making me shiver. I’m covered in scratches and bruises, the rough terrain taking its toll on my body.
I have to find safety, I have to escape! “ANYA!”
Damn it, he’s closer than I realized. I push myself harder, willing my legs to move faster, but the panic threatens to overwhelm me. I can’t see where I’m going, I don’t even know if I’m heading towards civilization or deeper into the wilderness.
“How is he so close already?” The fear grips me tighter, squeezing the breath from my lungs. “ANYA!”
Oh god, I’m not going to make it out alive! I didn’t even get to tell Jacob that I love him! “ANYA!”
He's so close now, his voice booming through the forest. I need to find somewhere to hide, somewhere to wait until he's gone. “ANYA!!”
I spot a massive tree and duck behind it, silently thanking whatever powers that be for my petite frame. I hunker down, trying to make myself as small as possible. The sound of his heavy footsteps draws nearer, and I close my eyes, pressing my hand over my mouth to stifle my breath. I've seen enough horror movies to know that's how they catch you. “ANYA!” Oh god, he's right by the tree. Shit, shit, shit!!
“ANYA PARKER! I FOUND YOU! ANYA!”
I jolt upright in bed, my heart racing as if I've just sprinted a marathon. The room feels oppressively dark, shadows dancing ominously in the corners. Lana's voice breaks through the haze of fear, her hands gripping my shoulders with a desperate urgency.
“Anya, what's wrong? Are you okay?!”
I struggle to find my voice, my throat dry and constricted. “It was just a bad dream,” I manage to whisper, though the words taste bitter and false on my tongue.
Lana's eyes widen with concern, the worry etched deeply into her features. “You were screaming,” she says softly, her voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.
I take a shaky breath, trying to steady my trembling limbs. “I know,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. “It was... him.”
The memory floods back with chilling clarity, the nightmare playing out in my mind's eye once more. Paul's voice, laced with venomous rage, his footsteps closing in with every passing second until...
“ANYA PARKER I FOUND YOU!!”
I shudder at the memory, the terror of the dream still lingering like a stubborn ghost. Lana's grip on my shoulders tightens, her concern palpable in the dim light of the room.
“Anya, you’re having nightmares again?” she asks, her voice tinged with urgency.
I nod weakly, feeling utterly helpless against the suffocating weight of my own fear. Closing my eyes, I try to push the memories aside, focusing instead on the comforting presence of Lana beside me. But deep down, I know that some nightmares never truly fade away.
The realization hits me like a wave crashing against the shore: this is the first time in two years that I've had a nightmare about Paul. For so long, I'd managed to convince myself that I was finally free from his torment, that his memory couldn't reach me anymore. But now, as I sit here trembling in the darkness, I can't deny the truth any longer.
Lana's concerned gaze lingers on me, her presence a reassuring anchor in the midst of my turmoil. She may not have been with me from the beginning but she has been by my side for a year and half now, offering unwavering support even when I couldn't find the strength to ask for it. And yet, despite all her efforts, the specter of Paul still haunts me, lurking in the shadows of my subconscious.
I take a deep breath, trying to push aside the memories that threaten to engulf me. This nightmare is just a temporary setback, I tell myself, a cruel trick of my mind dredging up the past when I least expect it. But deep down, I know that the scars left by Paul's abuse run far deeper than I'd care to admit.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks putting her hand on my back.
Lana's hand on my back offers a comforting reassurance, but I can't bring myself to delve into the nightmare that still haunts my thoughts.
"Nah, not really in the mood," I mutter, rising from the bed with a heavy sigh. "I'm gonna make some coffee. You want a cup?"
I head towards the kitchen, hoping Lana doesn't press further. The last thing I want is to discuss Paul or anything related to him. The nightmare is a stark reminder of the past I'm desperately trying to escape, especially with Marcus's recent revelation about seeing me.
"Yeah, sure," Lana replies, trailing behind me. "Maybe you could talk to Jacob about it? He might help."
I shake my head, feeling irritation creeping in. "No, I doubt he's even awake yet or probably busy with work."
The thought of discussing my nightmares with Jacob only adds to my frustration. Right now, I just want to push everything aside and focus on getting through the day.
“Well I know he has a way of –”
“I SAID NO LANA!” I shout, my words echoing in the quiet kitchen. Instantly, guilt washes over me, and I take a deep breath as I pour my coffee. “I’m sorry, I just feel bad unleashing all this baggage on him. I can deal with this myself, okay?”
Lana bows her head, her voice softening as she speaks. “I’m sorry for pushing, I just wanted to help.”
Her apology only deepens my sense of guilt. This is precisely why I've learned to keep my past to myself. People always want to help, but they can't fix what's broken inside me. I have to figure out how to deal with it on my own, without dragging others down with me. Today, I'll focus on getting through work, finishing college, and making a better life for myself. Tomorrow's Anya can worry about Paul and all the judgmental people. Right now, I just need to make today a good day.
I can't help but chuckle at my sudden switch to third-person narration. Today's gonna be alright.
*buzz*
JACOB: Good morning, I hope you have a great day beautiful!
ANYA: Good morning! Thank you!
JACOB: How did you sleep?
ANYA: I slept okay, we went to bed pretty late lol. How about you?
JACOB: I slept great, I was dreaming about this beautiful brown haired, brown eyed girl ? ?
ANYA: *eye roll* such a smooth talker lol
JACOB: I never said it was about you lol
ANYA: oh well in that case never mind then lol I see how much you think about your girlfriend ??
JACOB: lol I’m just joking babe, of course I was dreaming of you.
ANYA: Oh no, now I don’t believe you
JACOB: Wait? Really? Anya I was just kidding
ANYA: Nope…
JACOB: ANYA! Seriously, I was just kidding!!!
ANYA: LOL!! I’m just messing with you.
JACOB: *sends a phew gif*
JACOB: I thought you were actually mad lol
ANYA: That would be a silly thing to be mad over lol
ANYA: Anyway, sorry to cut it short but I gotta go work now.
JACOB: Okay babe, talk to you later!
ANYA: Okay bye!
Work felt like a never-ending slog, and the lunch crowd was just as dull as yesterday, so my tips barely covered the gas for my car. I managed to plow through my classwork, realizing I'm just a couple of months away from finally snagging my degree. It's a thought that fills me with both relief and anticipation. Living with my grandparents has been a lifesaver in many ways, but lately, I've started to feel like a burden on them. However, the idea of going back to my parents' house is out of the question. Living there feels like being trapped in a cage, suffocating under their suffocating expectations. They claim they understand, but deep down, I know they don't—not really. After wrapping up my laptop, I mindlessly scroll through my social media feeds, not really paying attention to anything in particular. That's when a text message pops up:
UNKNOWN NUMBER: Hey!
ANYA: Who's this?
But there's no response. With a shrug, I delete the message and tuck my phone back into my pocket. It must've been a wrong number, I figure.
I shake my head, dismissing the mysterious text as nothing more than a minor interruption in my day. With a sigh, I gather my belongings and prepare to head home.
As I make my way out of the campus building, the cool breeze offers a welcome respite from the stuffy classrooms. I pull out my phone, intending to check for any missed calls or messages. But before I can unlock the screen, another text message notification pops up.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: Just wanted to say you looked really cute today. ??
I feel a mix of surprise and apprehension wash over me. Who could be sending these messages? And how did they know what I looked like today? It's unsettling to think that someone might be watching me without my knowledge.
With a furrowed brow, I quickly type out a response:
ANYA: Umm… who is this?
I wait anxiously for a reply, my mind racing with questions. Who could be behind these messages, and what do they want from me?
As I continue on my way home, a sense of unease settles over me like a dark cloud. The cool breeze that once offered solace now feels chilling against my skin, and the shadows of the evening seem to grow longer and more menacing with each passing moment.
The lack of response from the mysterious sender only adds to my growing sense of dread. Who could be watching me? And what do they want from me? The thought sends a shiver down my spine, and I quicken my pace, eager to escape the feeling of being watched.
As I reach my grandparents' house, I fumble with the keys, my hands trembling with apprehension. The darkness of the night seems to press in around me, suffocating and oppressive. With a sense of relief, I finally manage to unlock the door and step inside.
But as I close the door behind me, a sudden chill runs down my spine. Something feels off, as if the walls themselves are whispering secrets that I can't quite grasp. I glance around nervously, half-expecting to see someone lurking in the shadows.
With a shaky breath, I force myself to shake off the feeling of foreboding. It's just my imagination, I tell myself. There's nothing to be afraid of.
But deep down, a nagging voice tells me otherwise. Something tells me that this is only the beginning of a nightmare that I can't yet comprehend.
As I step into the house, a wave of silence greets me, leaving me unsure of my grandparents' whereabouts. "Nana? Pop? I'm home!" I call out into the quiet, setting my keys down on the entryway table. The lack of response sends a shiver down my spine, urging me to switch on lights as I make my way through the dimly lit house.
But as I illuminate the kitchen, my heart skips a beat at the sight before me. A bouquet of red roses sits ominously on the counter, casting a shadow over the room. I approach them cautiously, my mind racing with confusion. Could they be for Nana? But then I remember—Pops always gets her daisies.
A flicker of hope ignites within me as I entertain the possibility that the roses are from Jacob, delivered by Nana in a well-intentioned gesture. But as I reach for the card attached to the bouquet, my hopes are dashed with each word I read. The message sends a chill down my spine, the familiarity of my own name turning the innocent gesture into something sinister.
I swallow hard, my hands trembling as I read the message aloud to myself.
"Anya, you looked beautiful today in class. So focused on your laptop, you never noticed me. I can't wait to see you again."
My breath catches in my throat as I realize the implications of the message. Someone has been watching me, someone who knows where I live and is now reaching out to me in a way that feels deeply unsettling. Panic begins to rise within me, but I force myself to remain calm, my mind racing with questions and fears.
The sudden ring of my phone startles me, and I fumble in my pocket to retrieve it, my heart racing with fear. With a deep breath, I muster the courage to open my eyes and check the caller ID. Relief washes over me as I see Jacob's name flashing on the screen.
"Hey, Jacob," I answer, my voice trembling slightly.
"Hey, beautiful," he responds, his tone gentle. "Are you okay? You sound a bit out of breath."
"Yeah, I'm good," I reply, attempting to sound calm. "Just got home, and it's pretty dark out."
"Are you afraid of the dark?" he teases.
I manage a nervous laugh. "A little," I admit, though the truth is I'm feeling more than just a little uneasy. "You never know who might be lurking around."
"You need me there to protect you," he jokes, unaware of the unsettling reality behind my unease. But deep down, I know his presence would offer a sense of security I desperately need right now.
"So, what's up?" I say, trying to distract myself from the unsettling sight of the roses.
"What are you doing this weekend?" Jacob asks, his voice filled with anticipation.
I pause for a moment, considering my response. "Ummm... I'm actually off this weekend for once. Why? You wanna come down here and hang?" I suggest, the idea of having him around offering a sense of comfort amidst the unease.
"Actually... I was thinking, what if you came out here for the weekend?" he proposes hopefully.
Before I can reply, a sudden knock at the door shatters the moment. Fear and anxiety grip me once more, freezing me in place. My feet seem glued to the floor, and all I can think about is finding a place to hide. The knock repeats, louder this time, sending a shiver down my spine. My breaths come out heavy as I shut my eyes tightly, my mind racing with apprehension. Then, amidst the chaos, a muffled voice calls out my name, causing my eyes to snap open in realization that Jacob is still on the phone.
"Anya, you still there?" Jacob's voice crackles through the phone. I bring it back to my ear and whisper, "Yeah."
"Why are you whispering?" he asks, his voice lowered to a whisper as well.
"There's a knock at my door, and I'm home alone," I confess quietly.
"Have you tried looking out the window to see who it is?" Jacob suggests.
"I'm too scared to," I admit, fear creeping into my voice.
Suddenly, another knock echoes through the house, louder this time. It's so forceful that even Jacob hears it through the phone. "ANYA, OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!" a muffled voice demands from behind the door.
"I'm gonna try to look through the window," I say shakily. "Don't hang up!"
"I won't," Jacob assures me.
With trembling hands, I slowly approach the corner window that overlooks the front porch. Cautiously, I kneel down and crawl to avoid casting a shadow that could be seen from outside. My breathing is slow and heavy as I lift the curtain aside, attempting to peek outside. With every effort, I try to steady my breathing even more, preparing myself for whatever I might see as I turn to look…