She hated this day.

18th October. It held so many painful memories for her and her family. This was the day her terrifying nightmares had started.

Tricia couldn’t deny it to herself. She was damaged.

Two years after that terrible night and she still couldn’t sleep through the night without dreaming about it. She couldn’t look at her legs and not remember.

Her life would never be the same after what Ben Smith had done to her. But there was nothing she could do about him. He was long dead.

The voices – Angels, Tricia had heard – turned out to be the Silverrod Police department led by William Wilson to rescue her. They shot Ben on the spot.

It had taken Tricia a long time to figure out if she was glad they saved her or if she wished they let her die.

She knew now though. She wanted to live.

Physically she was well. All that was left of her ordeal were the grotesque scars all over her legs. Ben had cut too deep surgery to be any good for her. Tricia didn’t mind. She could hide the scars on her legs.

No, it was the scars inside that were killing her. For two years she’d been under heavy therapy, but still…

She still recoiled when people touched her without warning. Even her own family. There were no more of the spontaneous hugs that had been the norm in her life before that night.

Now if her mother wanted to touch her, she had to say, “I’m going to hug you now, Tricia.”

It broke Tricia’s heart, but she couldn’t help it. She stayed at home all the time now and never went out because strangers made her anxious.

She was distrustful and suspicious and it made her life difficult.

“I really am sorry, Martin,” Tricia whispered softly.

Ben was crazy and wrong when he did what he did to her, but it had been her cruelty to Martin that had started it. She should’ve been kinder to him. Things could have turned out so differently.

But they hadn’t. Tricia reminded herself.

She couldn’t change the past now. All she could do was to slowly work towards changing her future. She didn’t know how long it would take, but the scars inside would heal too. She was a strong girl.

And she chose to live.

The End


Tell us what you think: Have you ever had a stalker or ever been the stalker? How did it turn out?