that I’ve been eyeing for like a month now. And you wanna know the best thing? I look damn good in it too!
Smiling, I type a response while huffing out a small chuckle.
Katty93: <3 you too! I bet you look damn good in it too!
It always makes me feel good to talk to Kiersten. I consider her to be one of my best friends, even though we’ve never met. I’ve never even seen her face. We’ve spent the last four years bonding over this support group message board, engaging in conversations about how messed up our lives were, sharing our dreams, hopes and aspirations. And most importantly, moving forward.
I wait for a response, but after almost a minute passes, I type in that I have to go. I really hate being late. I don’t like making the pups wait for me. I finally take a look at my phone and let out a heavy sigh when I see who it is. Mom.
Katia, I miss you honey! When are you going to come home?
Seeing the message gives me mixed emotions. I’m lucky to have my mother, to have a loving family. But they’re a part of my past I just can’t come to terms with. In this new city, with a new life, the past doesn’t matter. I can be anyone. But with them, I’ll always be Katia, their daughter who was taken for four years. And worse, when I look at them, I see how the years changed them.
Maybe it’s wrong of me, but when I think of her, I want to see the mother I knew. Seeing her reminds me of the time I was away. All the times I missed. When I last saw her, before they took me, she was happy, young and vibrant. That was over eight years ago.
I want to see her blonde hair that looks just like mine, not the silver shade that’s taken its place. Her gorgeous smile that I always envied, and blue eyes that sparkled with laughter. She tries, but the pain is still there. And it hurts me too much to see it.
When I was gone she never stopped looking for me, never once gave up on finding her precious daughter. I hate that I caused her so much stress, so much pain. Even if it wasn’t intentional, I still feel responsible. I still feel fucking guilty. I hate that she had to worry about me night after night, hoping, praying that she would one day find me alive.
But she couldn’t save me. No one could. I had to save myself.
And looking at her only reminds me of that.
I really can’t deal with this today, I think to myself, tearing my glassed-over eyes away from the screen and not bothering to look at the five other messages she’s sent.
I love my mother dearly. But it’s better this way. I don’t want her tainted any more by what happened to me. That’s not to say that I’m not better now. I’m a survivor.
I suck in a deep, trembling breath. I don’t want to tell her that I’m not coming home. I’m trying to get over everything. And despite my trepidation about dealing with my mother, I do want to see my family again. But I can’t right now. I’m just not ready. It’s been four years of recovery, only nine months out here on my own, and I know I’m a stronger, better person for it. Yet, deep down I still feel like I’m… not whole. I’m still healing. And that’s okay. But being away from home makes everything easier. It hurts me to admit it, but I just want to be alone.
Well not alone, alone.
My fingers find the dip of my throat as my heart pounds in my chest as I think back to my previous conversation with Kiersten before she abruptly logged off. I’d finally confessed what I’d been thinking for some time. Something that I knew I deeply wanted, but was afraid to admit; my need for a Master.
I shake my head at the memory, still not believing I admitted this, to me or to her. After everything I went through, how more fucked up in the head could I get?
Tick, tick, tick. Fuck, I need to get my shit together and get going.
My eyes stray back to my cell’s screen and I read my mother’s first text again, my heart feeling like it’s being tugged down by an anchor. I want to answer her and soothe her