Fear Relived
Short Story
It’s been about two years since I’ve moved from Skulkill Township, and I never want to go back there again. I’m sort of a loner, so I guess I don’t really miss the few friends I had. There is one thing that I do miss, though; I miss Skulkill Park. It is the best place to go to during the summer, and the scenery is perfect for photography. Skulkill River cuts through the park, and there’s a small waterfall there. The grass is always green and kept tidy, and the vast array of plants and animals make it absolutely beautiful. It’s a big park, but not many people visit; they’d have to walk through the woods to get there, and Skulkill Township is full of high maintenance girls and uninterested guys. I, however, would go there to do almost anything. It’s the best place for me to clear my mind and focus on my writing and my art. Almost every day I would take my laptop, my pen and pencils, a sketchpad, and a camera with me to a bench somewhere in the park. My favorite area is a bench that sits right by the waterfall, surrounded by exotic flowers and underneath a tall but neatly trimmed willow tree. It’s peaceful and quiet, except for the sounds of the water. I love that place.
The drops of dew on the windows signal the start of yet another new day. The sound of my alarm clock rings through my ears; it’s nine a.m. and finally summer again. I reach for the off button, and I nearly fall off of my bed in the process. I should probably move the nightstand closer to my bed, but right now I’ve got other things on my mind; it can wait. An old pair of black, fuzzy, worn-in slippers welcomes my toes. I walk over to the window and open it, taking a deep breath. The fresh air renews my spirits, and I feel more awake then I did before. The sound of a lawn mower starts up in the distance, and voices from children’s laughter crawl through the air towards me. I smile at the thought of being outside again.
“Lydia!”
“Yeah, Mom?”
“I’m going grocery shopping. Do you need anything?”
“No thanks, Mom. I’m leaving soon anyway.” After getting dressed, I gather up my pen and pencils, a sketchpad, and my camera. The door slams downstairs, and I stop in front of my bedroom door to look at myself in the mirror. The bobby pins feel loose, so I fix my hair. I pretty much always have the same hairstyle everyday: long, straight black hair, and a bobby pin attached to the front. I usually wear only black and white clothing. Right now, my clothing is simple: a black skirt that settles just above the knees, black flip flops, and a black and white striped tank top.
After looking in the mirror, I head downstairs. Dad works late night shifts, so during the day I can use his car to get around when I need to. I grab the keys to his shiny silver Volvo and walk out the door. It’s hot outside. The weather is nice, though. I get in the Volvo and turn the ignition. Driving is another thing I like to do. It makes me feel like I’m in control of everything, and it’s relaxing to a point. One day, I’m going to go on a road trip somewhere.
In about two hours, I pull into a parking lot. I turn off the car and the silence makes me grow a bit nervous. It’s been such a long time. Maybe I’m not ready. I could just turn the car back on and drive away, forgetting that I ever even came here. No. Not now. I need to face my fears. I push the horrible memories from my mind and step out of the car with my camera hanging from my neck, and my sketchpad and pencils in my hand. I swore to myself that I would never come back here, not after what happened the last time. He was so much stronger than me, and I couldn’t get away. If those people hadn’t come, who knows what would have happened? I do, but I can’t even utter those thoughts. I don’t want to die. I didn’t deserve what happened to me.
Bracing for the worst, I clutch my objects close to my chest and step onto the path that leads to Skulkill Park. Everything is familiar to me. The trees that hide the path from public view strive to create a tremendously long tunnel with their curving trunks. They’re beautiful. Scattered along the edge of the gravel path are delicate flowers. Their petals are of vibrant colors and fragrances that lift my spirits. My anxiety is dissipating.
The path eventually ends, and the beauty of nature’s confinement is revealed before my eyes once again. This place never ceases to amaze me. I take my time walking, but I head straight towards my favorite spot in the park. The Willow Tree is just as beautiful as before, and the waterfall soothes my unreliable nerves. I’m glad to be back, but at the same time I am scared. What is there to worry about, though? Jesse Alexander is in jail. He can’t harm me again. He can’t violate me, but I’ll never forget about it. I push those thoughts aside and decide to focus on taking photographs of the park.
After a while of taking photographs, I settle down on the bench to sketch for a bit. I decide on drawing an abstract picture of some kind. It never really matters what my choice of artwork is because it always turns out well anyway. The lines somehow mesh well together, sort of like they do in my head. The picture starts to look somewhat like a clock, and I realize I haven’t been keeping track of time. I don’t really need to be anywhere soon, so I suppose it’s okay to waste the day here. I do know that it’s sometime in the afternoon, but I left my cell phone in the car, so I can’t really check to be sure. I’ve finished my picture, and I immediately start on my second piece. Later on, I feel myself drifting off.
I don’t know how long I slept, but it’s getting dark now. I can barely see out here, and I have no light to keep me company. Feeling a little bit dazed and still not completely awake, I gather up my materials and walk out from under the willow tree. The sound of nature only makes me want to fall asleep again. The path comes in sight, and I start the long walk back to the parking lot.
Something strange seems to happen. I can’t really pinpoint what it is exactly, but something doesn’t really feel right. I notice that the sound of all of the animals has died out, and the hair on my arms begins to rise with goose bumps. I’m scared. Something behind me crackles, and my breathing speeds up. This can’t be happening. Thumps on the pavement cause me to drop my things, and without looking behind me, I break out into a run. No. This can’t be happening again! I hear a grunt as two hands grab me from behind, and one covers my mouth before a scream can be revealed. My worst fears have come alive. Tears run down my cheeks at the sound of his voice.
“I’ve missed you, darling.” Jesse screeches when I bite him, which gives me enough time to run away. I kick the gravel with my bare feet, and thoughts cloud my mind. How did he get out of jail? The sounds of my pursuer draw closer and closer. I can’t run any faster, and my legs feel like they are going to give out. Screams refuse to help me because I can’t stop crying. He grabs me again.
“You know I like it Lydia. Keep fighting me, I enjoy it. Scream all you want, there’s nobody around this time.”
I scream and bite his hand again. He barely even winces.
“I told you I would get revenge, didn’t I? You should’ve behaved like a good little girl the first time. Then you might be in a better place, and this wouldn’t have been happening again, but you know I can’t resist you.” The sound of his voice makes my skin crawl. Jesse pins me to the ground again, and this time I can barely move. Tears are streaming down my face at a rapid pace. What will happen to me? He’s right; there is nobody around to help me this time. I feel a knife slice apart my skirt. I’m paralyzed.
I wake up. Will these nightmares ever leave?
The drops of dew on the windows signal the start of yet another new day. The sound of my alarm clock rings through my ears; it’s nine a.m. and finally summer again. I reach for the off button, and I nearly fall off of my bed in the process. I should probably move the nightstand closer to my bed, but right now I’ve got other things on my mind; it can wait. An old pair of black, fuzzy, worn-in slippers welcomes my toes. I walk over to the window and open it, taking a deep breath. The fresh air renews my spirits, and I feel more awake then I did before. The sound of a lawn mower starts up in the distance, and voices from children’s laughter crawl through the air towards me. I smile at the thought of being outside again.
“Lydia!”
“Yeah, Mom?”
“I’m going grocery shopping. Do you need anything?”
“No thanks, Mom. I’m leaving soon anyway.” After getting dressed, I gather up my pen and pencils, a sketchpad, and my camera. The door slams downstairs, and I stop in front of my bedroom door to look at myself in the mirror. The bobby pins feel loose, so I fix my hair. I pretty much always have the same hairstyle everyday: long, straight black hair, and a bobby pin attached to the front. I usually wear only black and white clothing. Right now, my clothing is simple: a black skirt that settles just above the knees, black flip flops, and a black and white striped tank top.
After looking in the mirror, I head downstairs. Dad works late night shifts, so during the day I can use his car to get around when I need to. I grab the keys to his shiny silver Volvo and walk out the door. It’s hot outside. The weather is nice, though. I get in the Volvo and turn the ignition. Driving is another thing I like to do. It makes me feel like I’m in control of everything, and it’s relaxing to a point. One day, I’m going to go on a road trip somewhere.
In about two hours, I pull into a parking lot. I turn off the car and the silence makes me grow a bit nervous. It’s been such a long time. Maybe I’m not ready. I could just turn the car back on and drive away, forgetting that I ever even came here. No. Not now. I need to face my fears. I push the horrible memories from my mind and step out of the car with my camera hanging from my neck, and my sketchpad and pencils in my hand. I swore to myself that I would never come back here, not after what happened the last time. He was so much stronger than me, and I couldn’t get away. If those people hadn’t come, who knows what would have happened? I do, but I can’t even utter those thoughts. I don’t want to die. I didn’t deserve what happened to me.
Bracing for the worst, I clutch my objects close to my chest and step onto the path that leads to Skulkill Park. Everything is familiar to me. The trees that hide the path from public view strive to create a tremendously long tunnel with their curving trunks. They’re beautiful. Scattered along the edge of the gravel path are delicate flowers. Their petals are of vibrant colors and fragrances that lift my spirits. My anxiety is dissipating.
The path eventually ends, and the beauty of nature’s confinement is revealed before my eyes once again. This place never ceases to amaze me. I take my time walking, but I head straight towards my favorite spot in the park. The Willow Tree is just as beautiful as before, and the waterfall soothes my unreliable nerves. I’m glad to be back, but at the same time I am scared. What is there to worry about, though? Jesse Alexander is in jail. He can’t harm me again. He can’t violate me, but I’ll never forget about it. I push those thoughts aside and decide to focus on taking photographs of the park.
After a while of taking photographs, I settle down on the bench to sketch for a bit. I decide on drawing an abstract picture of some kind. It never really matters what my choice of artwork is because it always turns out well anyway. The lines somehow mesh well together, sort of like they do in my head. The picture starts to look somewhat like a clock, and I realize I haven’t been keeping track of time. I don’t really need to be anywhere soon, so I suppose it’s okay to waste the day here. I do know that it’s sometime in the afternoon, but I left my cell phone in the car, so I can’t really check to be sure. I’ve finished my picture, and I immediately start on my second piece. Later on, I feel myself drifting off.
I don’t know how long I slept, but it’s getting dark now. I can barely see out here, and I have no light to keep me company. Feeling a little bit dazed and still not completely awake, I gather up my materials and walk out from under the willow tree. The sound of nature only makes me want to fall asleep again. The path comes in sight, and I start the long walk back to the parking lot.
Something strange seems to happen. I can’t really pinpoint what it is exactly, but something doesn’t really feel right. I notice that the sound of all of the animals has died out, and the hair on my arms begins to rise with goose bumps. I’m scared. Something behind me crackles, and my breathing speeds up. This can’t be happening. Thumps on the pavement cause me to drop my things, and without looking behind me, I break out into a run. No. This can’t be happening again! I hear a grunt as two hands grab me from behind, and one covers my mouth before a scream can be revealed. My worst fears have come alive. Tears run down my cheeks at the sound of his voice.
“I’ve missed you, darling.” Jesse screeches when I bite him, which gives me enough time to run away. I kick the gravel with my bare feet, and thoughts cloud my mind. How did he get out of jail? The sounds of my pursuer draw closer and closer. I can’t run any faster, and my legs feel like they are going to give out. Screams refuse to help me because I can’t stop crying. He grabs me again.
“You know I like it Lydia. Keep fighting me, I enjoy it. Scream all you want, there’s nobody around this time.”
I scream and bite his hand again. He barely even winces.
“I told you I would get revenge, didn’t I? You should’ve behaved like a good little girl the first time. Then you might be in a better place, and this wouldn’t have been happening again, but you know I can’t resist you.” The sound of his voice makes my skin crawl. Jesse pins me to the ground again, and this time I can barely move. Tears are streaming down my face at a rapid pace. What will happen to me? He’s right; there is nobody around to help me this time. I feel a knife slice apart my skirt. I’m paralyzed.
I wake up. Will these nightmares ever leave?