Release
I hate the pain on Anna’s face. It distorts her features. Her tears escape to the ground. A tiny puddle of false hopes and broken promises. She's probably thinking about *him*. “Don't worry, I took care of him. He won't hurt you, again.” Her skin is like velvet under my touch.
I don't blame her for running; I must have startled her. A person can only be hurt so many times before they begin to expect it. It's natural to trust less and question more. “Stop,” I yell. She must not be able to hear me. We tumble to the ground as I try to wrap her up and comfort her.
Her words hurt, but I know that I'm not what she says. It’s my job to make her feel better—to release her from the pain he put her through. I will not fail—not again.
She bites at my hand as I hold the rag over her nose. Her nails claw at my face.
I think I see pieces of my skin underneath the chipped black nail polish. A drop of my blood falls on her skin. “Trust me. It won't hurt anymore…” I pull her up into my arms. “Sleep, my love. You're safe now. You'll stay with me.”