Page 15 of Property of Yak

I take a shuddering breath as I try to calm my breathing.

It wasn’t real.

Well, not actively happening, real. It was all a dream. A horrible dream.

Licking my lips, I look around my room and see that I am in fact not alone. Tabby is curled next to me in bed, but my mystery man is nowhere to be seen. My eyes dart to the door and see it’s wide open. I listen closely and hear nothing.

“Hello?” I say out loud tentatively.

No one responds, and my heart skips. I could have sworn he said he was going to stay with me.

Carefully, I get out of bed and head to the kitchen. After grabbing a glass of water, I check the rest of my house and see that I am in fact the only one home. I come to a stop next to the front door and take a sip of the water as I stare at the locked door. If it were just the handle, I would understand, but the deadbolt is locked.

When I went to bed last night, I know I wasn’t alone, so how is the door locked?

“I’m going crazy,” I mutter to myself.

Padding softly down the hall, I go back to my room and head straight into the bathroom. I turn on the water, and as it heats up, I take off my clothes, dropping them in the hamper. Without glancing at the mirror, I get into the shower and quickly wash myself. I can’t help but scrub a little harder with my loofah as I try to wash the dirty feeling away.

I’ve heard women talk about being violated many times, and I thought I understood what they meant, but I was wrong. I didn’t know I could feel like this. My skin doesn’t feel like my own, and I just feel…wrong.

“Stop it. You’re lucky. It could have been so much worse,” I scold myself.

It could have been. I could have become a statistic, or maybe I should say more of one. They could have taken more from me and hurt me in ways I can’t even fathom.

They said they were going to kill me.

I push the thoughts away and step out of the shower. Quickly I dry off and wrap the towel around me. Slowly, I approach the mirror but keep my eyes down. For the first time ever in my life, I’m afraid of what I might see looking back at me.

Taking a deep breath, I look up and sigh in relief.

“Thank goodness,” I mutter to myself as I eye my neck.

My skin is still a bit red, but no bruising has started to show. I look at my arms and see a little bit of bruising but flick my eyes away. I can’t look at it. I will spiral out of control. Thankfully it’s winter, and no one will question why I am wearing long sleeves.

Shaking my head, I put on a little makeup with shaky hands. I never should have accepted the sleeping pill last night. Not because of who gave it to me but because I hate the way they make me feel. I swear I feel the lingering side effects from those little pills more than I do a bottle of wine.

After doing my hair and makeup, I head into my bedroom and get dressed for the day. Usually I talk to Tabby while I get ready, but I’m somber this morning. Once I’m done, I head back to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee to hopefully shake off the rest of the sleeping pill.

Coffee brewing, I turn to put my phone in my purse and pause when I see something propped up against my bag. My heart races so hard I swear it feels like it could pound out of my chest. With a shaky hand I pick up the folded piece of paper carefully and open it.

You are safe. I stayed as long as I could, but before I left, I checked again and made sure all of your doors and windows were locked. I thought about waking you up, but you looked peaceful despite what happened to you. Just remember, when the thoughts get too overwhelming, you are safe, and they can no longer hurt you, but take last night as a lesson to always be aware of your surroundings. Danger lurks everywhere.

Take care of yourself.

Sadness seeps into me when I realize he never left his name or number.

Of course he didn’t, Julie. He had no reason to.

I let the letter fall onto the counter and head back to my coffee. Still, I can’t help but wonder who my savior is. Before I can think too deeply on it, my phone rings.

“Hi, Dad,” I say as I answer when I pick up my phone.

“How are you, baby?” he asks.

I close my eyes as the timbre of his voice washes over me, offering me comfort.

“Jules, you there?”