There’s a feeling that I used to struggle with in my childhood. I’m still unsure what that is. Maybe it’s just a form of dissociation.
I’m barely able to stay in the moment, to hear those around me. The adults would always work in groups to find whatever world I hid in. The hard part was bringing me back to my senses.
Derek isn’t pushing anything with me. He’s the only person who knows about every instance of assault. He’s the only person I can handle right now being within three feet of me.
“Just keep breathing, Esme,” he whispers while I tremble on the floor. The familiar feeling of no longer being tethered to the ground fills my body.
Tears still slide down my face, memories replaying from different times in my life. At one point, I’m maybe eight. Another moment, I’m five. Then
