I Don’t Feel Safe Anymore Part 12

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In the dimness of a bathroom, there was a chipped, freestanding bathtub filled with milky-white water. The tiles on the floor of the room were a stained beige, the tiles on the wall a pale baby blue. The only window was a small sliver in the upper rim of one of the walls.

Nadine emerged from the murky water with a deep inhale.

Her small mouth opened wide, and she sucked the air into her lungs in a great heap. Her wet hair stuck to her blemish-free skin. She pinched the water out of her nose and ran her hands over her face. Wiping away the water and pushing her hair back. With a peaceful sigh, she leaned back and rested against the rim of the tub. Her arms lifted and the loud sound of falling water echoed off the walls of the tub and filled the room; she rested them along the rounded edge. Her eyes closed in relaxation.

Thick heavy steam rose from her pale skin. Her palms reddened from the heat of the water. She loved taking hot baths since she was always cold all the time. She made sure to have at least one every day.

The bathroom door behind her, little by little, slid open so steadily, (Oh, so gently!) That Nadine had not heard.

Daniel slowly peeked in. When he saw Nadine laying back, her eyes closed and relaxed, her guard completely down, he quietly crept in. His shotgun in hand—ready.

He tiptoed in such a slow and cautious manner; a mouse could not compete.

He pointed the barrel of the gun at the back of her head as he carefully moved in. His finger hovered over the alluring trigger.

But as collected as he was from first glance, upon further assessments, a closer look revealed his skin glistened with sweat; his hand shook with a terrible tremble, and his breath was shallow and uneven.

Nadine’s eyes opened, and she stared up at the small window. The dim light from outside barely shined through thanks to the dense fog. She gazed at it for a long moment.

Daniel dared another step. Why didn’t he pull the trigger then? He had perfect aim, and he knew this. Yet still, his finger remained curled but did not bend. Could this have been hesitation? He did not know. Was he afraid? Of course, he was. He was utterly terrified!

Her head ever so gently bowed, and Nadine stared down at the milky water. Tears welled up in her eyes. And slowly, the burning urge to cry built inside of her until her bottom lip was left trembling from the pressure.

But she held it in—with everything in her, she kept it inside, swallowing the painful feeling of constant loneliness down like a hard pill. She didn’t want Daniel ever to hear her cry. She didn’t want him to think she was weak. Because she wasn’t—and Nadine knew this—she was just so exhausted . . .

He dared another step. This one Nadine heard. And her wide gaze flicked forward in sudden awareness. 

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Chapter 13