Chapter 2: CH.2 - A Dream!?!
AAAAHHHH!!!! I lunge forward sitting up in my bed, breathing heavily, gripping at my racing heart. I look around my room. The sun is gently shining through my windows. I slow my breathing and move to the side of my bed placing my feet on the floor. I place my face in my hands and fold over into my lap. "I fu****g hate it when I dream about my past!" I think to myself as I begin to cry. Warm tears rush out of my eyes as I quietly whimper. After a few minutes I somewhat pull myself together. I stand up and wearily shuffle to my bedroom door. I take a deep breath in and release it as I pull back the curtain and walk through the doorway. I turn and walk down the hall toward the bathroom. I knock on the door and listen to see if someone was in there. No one answers, so I open the door and walk in shutting the door behind me. I deeply inhale and exhale again as I place my hands on the counter and look up at my reflection in the mirror. My face is slightly swollen and my eyes are puffy. I still have some tears and snot on my face. I turn the sink on and bend over to splash cold water on my face. My back pinches and I let out a surprised and distressed yet quiet yelp. I lean forward placing my forearm on the wall next to the mirror slightly still bent over. I look up at myself in the mirror and rub my back with my other hand. "I wish I could take my own pain away like I can do for everyone else." I think to myself.
I had only just recently discovered that there was a word or title that refers to what I am... or... what I am able to do and feel. I'm an empath ... or something like that. I haven't really researched into it much, but everything I've read so far makes complete sense to me and describes my experience with this stuff to the T. Ever since I was very little I had this 6th sense ... or well ... senses, and extra abilities that it seemed like no one else had. I could feel people's pain both emotionally and physically just by being in the same room as them. They didn't even say or show any signs of it but I knew. And if we had a very strong bond we didn't even have to be near each other for me to feel it. I could just touch you and your physical pain would lessen dramatically or even completely go away. Your pain like... absorbed into my body... then it kinda... oozed out of me kind of like a rag being rung out. Sometimes it was a little harder to get the pain to leave my body and I had to carry it around all day. The emotional pain was a little harder to deal with because I could feel it from everyone in the close by area, but I couldn't absorb it out of people and dispose of it. It kind of made a copy of itself and clung to me. The more people I was around, the more conflicting emotions were stuffed inside of me that I didn't know how to get rid of... let's just say that it was confusing and hard to deal with. I could also say what you were trying to say in the exact way you were thinking about saying it before you could finish speaking because you were trying to figure out a better way to explain what you were saying in a way that a young child could understand. I understood completely. I was a lot more advanced than your average toddler. Sometimes you could just look at me and I would already know what you were going to ask me and I would start doing it before you said anything. I also was some kind of animal whisperer. Even extremely viscous animals would curl up in my lap and let me pet them. And sometimes I could feel what was wrong with them or how they felt. These things and other things, like when you where shoes and socks it feels like you are cut off from the world and are suffocating and can't think well, described in almost every informational video, and webpage that I read on the subject was spot on and completely described what I've been feeling my whole life.
I agitatedly exhale and push myself off the wall. I stretch and twist my back a bit. CRACK! A sigh of relief passes through my lips. "That's better" I whisper to myself. I bend back over and rinse my face with cool water. I slightly rise from the sink leaning forward trying not to drip water all over the place as I reach for the hand towel. I make eye contact with myself in the mirror and pause for a second. A flood of memories of my trauma from my childhood begin flashing in front of my eyes. The fear I felt, the fear in my sisters eyes, the first time I held my grandfathers penis, the promise I made to my sister the first time I saw her to protect her and never let him hurt her, me failing to protect her no matter how hard I tried, our grandfather forcing my sister and I to preform sexual acts on each other and on him at the same time. I close my eyes shivers running down my spine. I turn away from the mirror and shake my head trying to shake off the memories. I splash more water on my face then dry off with the hand towel. I head over to the toilet and relieve myself of my body's sudden urge to violently disperse liquid from my anus. As I violently and painfully spilled my entire intestinal tract, more memories of my childhood, if you can call it that, vividly run through my mind. I remember the mysterious yet horrifying closet that no one was allowed to open the door to. I remember the creepy feeling that I would feel every time I walked past it. I remember the one time I opened it. I remember how quietly and stealthily I crept from the room I was playing quietly in to the door, and how carefully and slowly I opened it so that it wouldn't make a sound. I remember how it seemingly looked like a normal junk closet. Things like blankets and old toys, an ancient vacuum cleaner and random household stuff piled and stuffed on top one another... two strange cardboard boxes stacked at the bottom... these boxes seemed to scream at me...EVIL... DANGER...something about these two boxes was horribly wrong. The box on top was slightly crushed in by the stuff on top of it, just enough for me to see down inside through the flaps. The box was full of newspaper clippings and pictures of young women and teenage girls, and papers stapled together. I remember how all of the women looked to be around the same age, nice figures, blonde hair, mostly blue eyes.... similar to my sister and I. I then remember my mom telling me about some murders that happened down a highway near where we used to live. She told me that the victims were all young women ranging from around age 16 to 27ish. The women were all blonde and had shapely bodies and fair skin. She expressed to me that she was afraid to drive on that highway because she fit that description pretty well at the time and she was worried about my sister and I if we were in the wrong place at the wrong time and around that age. I also remember a later conversation with my mom about how she was suspicious at one point about the serial killer being my grandpa. "Well... I guess that makes sense... I don't know why I didn't consider all these happenings to be related, but it's highly possible that he was a serial killer rapist." I think to myself.
After I have completed reliving myself of the horrors that lied within my bowels. I kick off my bottoms as I rise from the toilet and remove the remainder of my clothing. I place them in the hamper and turn on the shower and adjust the water. I think to myself "A nice warm shower should loosen up my back." I begin to step into the shower, the warm water rushes over my body and begins soothing my tense muscles. Suddenly more memories bombard me. Memories of the times my grandfather would bathe me and "teach me how to properly wash my lady parts". Chills and extreme discomfort rush over me. I try to shake it off. "I need to shower it's been almost five days sense I could even bare to even touch the shower handle." I fight with myself. "F**K!!!!" I almost yell. "I can't f*****g do it yet again." I grumble at myself. I get out of the shower and turn off the water. I slam the toilet lid down and grab a towel and dry off. I lay the towel over the toilet and sit down and open the drawer in the counter next to the toilet. I pull out some baby wipes and a spray can of dry shampoo. "We meet again old friends." I think to myself. I scrub down with the baby wipes and use what was left of the dry shampoo and toss it all in the trash.
Weekly Power Status
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Ranking 
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stone