Chapter 18
Eighteen
BLUE
Waking up to find my numb legs covered with a blanket should not be as infuriating as it is. Horrified by the idea that Clarence was in here while I was unconscious makes me want to throw up. Alas, there's nothing to throw up. He could have done anything to me.
I'm not only stuck on the scary possibilities of what he did while I was asleep, but why now? Why would he choose to help me? What does he want with me? Clearly, he would like to keep me alive even if I am becoming a shell of my former self. But what for? What is his goal?
There's even a small voice in the back of my mind that wishes the blanket weren't here. We can call it an intrusive thought, but the part of me that is urging me to give up and fade away is nagging at me.
This blanket symbolizes survival, but I can't quite picture how that could be a good thing right now. Clarence was in here. He must have plans for me beyond just tormenting me until I die of starvation, dehydration, and hypothermia.
My God. What if I do survive and escape this dirty shed?
I can just imagine how messed up I'll be.
Will I hoard food and have multiple water bottles?
If one goes empty, will I slip into a panic attack?
Jesus, what about winters? Will I be able to handle the cold, or will I always be reminded of this?
How would I explain my new long list of issues to Violet? She doesn't need to see me like that. What would that teach her? That I'm weak?
Plucking at the frayed edges of the dirt-stained blanket, I frown. My mind is feeling foggy and jumbled, so I sit up and stretch my neck out. The sun is poking through the boards, highlighting the dust in the air.
With my next inhale, I wonder if I'll have some kind of lung issues.
Fuck knows if there's mold in here, too.
I have no idea how that would impact me, actually.
So many questions. Maybe I should get a higher education.
Is there a degree for random information that nobody needs to know? Wait, isn't that just high school?
Squeezing my eyes shut, I silently scold myself for being a bitch. I was a straight A student, and I know plenty of things. I'm just a little pissy I didn't learn adult things. Like what to do if I'm locked in a shed with no food or water.
Oh, that's a good idea. Schools should have survival classes! Then a class on how to do taxes. Maybe some basic first aid. Is there one? I'd also think a mental health management class would be good. Psychology was great, but I wish somebody had taught me how to manage high stress. Like right now.
Another good idea. Mental health management during survival class. That's what would have been useful for me, literally on so many levels. Lord knows I have enough issues, and will have more after this. If there is an after.
There's the other possibility that I won't have any PTSD from this fucked up place. But that might be worse. Violet might think I'm a damn robot if I'm so unaffected by what has most definitely been a traumatic experience.
Would she worry less about the bad things that could happen? Fuck, I can picture it now. Well, Ma is fine after the worst thing ever, so I'll just go on this date with this mob boss, whom I haven't even met yet.
How the hell does a parent feel confident in what they are inadvertently teaching their kid through their actions?
Or...motherfucker...Is this his plan? To make me overthink every single fucking thing. I'm contemplating death and am angry at a damn crappy piece of fabric, all the while wondering what my captor's plan is.
"ASSHOLE!" I scream and throw the blanket at the door. The coughing fit that follows is absolutely fucking worth it. Just that one outburst lights a fire inside of me, and while I know it can easily be snuffed out, I'm going to fan the flame for as long as I can.
I may never be confident about myself as a mother, but I can set an example. If Violet were ever to find herself in a similar predicament, I hope she would do better than I have been doing.
With my daughter in mind, I grit my teeth and climb to my feet. I can't fight lying down.