Seventeen
Kat
Coming Undone – Korn
Rain beats down hard, leaving a sharp sting on my skin. My white dress, now dirty and torn, drags behind me as I run. The soft light from the moon illuminates my path through the trees. My heart rattles against my ribs, my breathing ragged.
Just a little longer.
My bare feet, caked in mud and debris, struggle to keep me upright as I weave through the maze of fir and spruce, my bloody nails digging into the bark as I drag myself along.
I can’t stop now. My legs grow heavier and heavier before stopping me completely as a cramp works its way through the soles of my feet to my calves.
Shit
Dropping to the ground, I tuck myself behind a tree.
I pull my knees to my chest, my hands slipping with a mixture of blood and rain.
The searing pain from the cramp clamps down around my muscles and I force my mouth to stay closed, despite how much I want to cry out from the sheer agony.
I tuck my shoulders in, quickly glancing behind to make sure no part of me is showing.
And here I wait. I wait for what seems like forever. My heart shows no sign of slowing down. The pain in my legs has quelled, but pain everywhere now rises in its place. I don’t know how I’m going to survive tonight, but I have to.
The sound of a whistle shoots through me like electricity.
“Princess. Come out, come out, wherever you are.” The crooning tone of his voice makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
I pull my knees tighter, the pressure against my belly growing painful with the force, but I can’t ease up or he’ll find me.
“Oh, princess…”
I tuck my head between my knees. I can’t place where the voice is coming from.
It sounds like it’s coming from all angles, engulfing me.
My heartbeat is painful in my chest as the tears fall freely down my face, but I force myself to stay silent.
The rain is heavier now, mixing with the blood and dirt on my knees. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut.
The sound of branches snapping makes my breath catch.
He’s everywhere.
I hold my breath, waiting for a sound to give up his location so I can run in the opposite direction.
Rain drips from the branches overhead, each drop hitting the forest floor with a dull patter that mirrors the frantic thudding of my heart.
My ears strain for anything out of place.
Any sound that will tell me where he is.
A twig snaps somewhere to my left. My entire body jerks. I press my hand over my mouth before a gasp can escape, my fingers smearing mud and debris across my face. My lungs burn from holding the breath in, but I don’t dare let it out.
If he hears…
Another whistle cuts through the trees. Closer this time. Slower. Like he already knows exactly where I am, and he’s taunting me. He’s a viper, and I’m caught in his pit.
My muscles scream as I stay curled behind the tree, my calves trembling from the chill and the run. I count my breaths in my head, trying to keep them silent.
One.
Two.
Three.
Wait… that third breath wasn’t mine.
Before I can rise to my feet, pain explodes across my scalp as I’m tugged upwards by my hair. I scream. I thrash. I kick. But it’s no use because the second I open my eyes, I see him.
“What did I tell you, princess? You can’t run from me. I’ll always find you,” he sneers as his pitch-black eyes roam down my body. My dress is so torn from the forest—there’s little he can’t see.
I thrash and kick again, my knee connecting with his abdomen, but he doesn’t even react.
“Shhh, you know I don’t like it when we fight,” he coos, taking my face in both hands and petting my hair, scattering kisses over my forehead. He pulls back with a look of sympathy on his face.
I know better than to think it’s real.
“You’ll need to be punished for this. You know the rules.” His voice is sickly sweet as he continues to pet me.
My body goes rigid in anticipation. He turns me around, my back pressing into his chest, his warm body doing nothing to ease the chill deep in my bones. I feel his breath on my neck as he twists my nipple. I cry out in pain. The sound echoes through the aether.
He laughs. “I’m going to have so much fun with you tonight, princess.”
He rummages through his jacket pocket with his free hand. I glimpse the syringe seconds before the sharp sting in my neck.
Then—nothing.
My torso lifts from my mattress, and my eyes shoot open, stinging from the morning sun peeking through the curtains. My heart hammers in my chest as my eyes adjust to my surroundings. The chill from the forest is gone, replaced by something firm and springy. I look around and ease out a breath.
Bed, desk, dresser, record player. I’m home. I’m safe.
My chest heaves as if I’ve been running for miles.
For a moment, I can still feel his hand in my hair.
There’s a phantom burn across my scalp, making my fingers twitch as if I should be clawing it away.
But there’s nothing there—just tangled sheets and the pale morning light creeping across my ceiling.
I drag my hands down my face, forcing myself to breathe slower.
In through my nose. Out through my mouth.
Self-Care 101. It works eventually, as my body grows limp and I flop back into my bed, ignoring the cold, damp layer of sweat coating my sheets.
I’ve had a rough couple of days—is it any wonder that I’ve reverted to fucking night terrors?
It’s been a few months since my last one.
I thought I was doing better, but I guess my brain had other plans.
After far too long lying in my own sweat, I flip my legs over the side of the bed and pad towards the shower.
The warm water eases my muscles and I let out a sigh with the tingly sensation.
I stand there longer than necessary, letting the water fall over my head until it starts to run cooler.
Steam fills the small bathroom, fogging the mirror and softening the edges of everything around me.
No forest. No rain. No whistle. Just the steam in my bathroom and the faint hum of the pipes in the walls.
Eventually, the water turns cold, and I’m forced to shut off the shower. I wrap a towel around myself and head into the kitchen. I hum to myself as I place the coffee filter in the machine. The rhythmic sound of grinding coffee adds an accidental symphony to my hum.
Losing myself in this black hole,
The static shifts, I feel the change,
I move, but I’m under your pull,
But I’m out of range.
The melody lingers in my head for a moment longer.
My fingers drum against the counter automatically, chasing the beat.
Music has always done this to me. The second a line appears in my head, the rest of the world disappears until I write it down.
I push my empty coffee cup to the side and rush to the couch.
I pull my backpack onto my lap and rummage around inside, going by touch alone.
Where is it?
The realization hits like a punch to the gut. My songbook isn’t here.
I freeze as my brain recounts the last few days. The gig. The dressing room. Kirk. It must still be at Headstone along with my guitar. Who the fuck loses their guitar and songbook and doesn’t realize it for days? Me. I do.
Releasing a groan, I walk into my bedroom and pull on some baggy combat pants and a band shirt that has been worn so much the print has almost faded. Shoving my feet into my trusty Dr. Martens, I order an Uber.
The ride to Headstone is quick. Coming Undone by Korn plays on the radio, and I stifle a chuckle at the irony. Who the fuck goes to a bar at 11am? Alcoholics and desperate people, that’s who—and I know which one I am.
I didn’t think of the logistics when I decided to come, only that I needed that fucking songbook. I’m praying that a cleaner or someone is there, and I’m not sitting outside like an addict waiting for them to open. All I want to do is get in and get out.
As the Uber comes to a stop, I thank my driver and get out.
I pull my leather jacket tighter around me—the chill from earlier still hasn’t fully left my bones, and the crisp air isn’t helping.
Walking around the corner, Headstone comes into view.
I stop in my tracks when I see Elias dart down the alleyway, followed by a woman.
She has long, black hair and is wearing a sapphire skin-tight dress that shows off her slim figure.
My stomach hardens, and my feet move. Something similar to acid curls in my stomach.
Before I realize what’s happening, I’m standing on the edge of the alleyway, peeking around like a deranged stalker.
They’re close—nearly as close as Elias and I were the other night. Her breasts are almost touching his chest as she looks up at him. Pain flares in my jaw, and my eyes sting.
She laughs at something he says, tilting her head back slightly, the faint sound carrying down the alley.
Elias leans closer to hear her over the traffic.
Too close. Something tightens in my chest. My fingers curl against the brick wall beside me as I watch them.
Rooted to the spot like a fucking idiot.
Of course he’s with someone. Why wouldn’t he be? He probably has women throwing themselves at him every night of the week. Women who look like her: polished, confident, and effortlessly beautiful. Not women who he has to carry out of the bar.
The thought lands like a boulder in my stomach.
I turn away, heat prickling behind my eyes. Relief washes over me as I find the front door to Headstone unlocked. Biting back the tears, I march toward the dressing room.
Stupid, Kat.
Stupid to think that moment meant anything.
Men like Elias don’t look twice at girls like you.