At His Mercy

Never Be Free

**Adaline's POV**

My heart raced as the tears streamed down my face. I hid in the dark, trying desperately to keep quiet. He's been drinking again. Why did I let myself believe that things could be different this time around? How many times has he promised he was done and went right back to the bottle? How many times has he said that he wanted us to be a family again, and get back to the way things were before it all went to s**t? His words meant nothing and I should have known it was all a lie. After all these years of the same empty promises, what else did I expect from a monster like him? Ever since that dreadful day that shook our home, he's never been the same. Neither have I.

His heavy footsteps stalked down the hall, growing louder as he drew closer. His drunken voice slurs my name, attempting to be sweet, but I know what he wants, and it is getting more difficult to keep him away when he is like this. I need to get out before things can get any worse. I need something better than this miserable life. I need my freedom.

The bedroom door swung open and I held my breath. He always finds me, no matter where I hide. It's like he can smell my fear, my weakness, and he gravitates towards it like a moth to a flame. I watch from behind the closet door as he stumbles around the room, promising to be gentle with me while he continues to search for me. I shivered and held my hand over my mouth as he turned towards my hiding place. He looked as if he could see through the door and looked directly into my eyes. He smiles and walks towards me. I try to make myself smaller and push myself against the wall as much as I can, but it's no use. Pulling my knees to my chest, and hiding my face behind my long hair, I could no longer keep the sobs from escaping my lips. Why? Why was this happening to me? I am a good girl and never disobey. Why does he say he loves me but treats me like this? Is this how love is meant to be? This is all I have ever known.

He pulled the door open slowly, the creaking sound further fueled my fear. Moonlight streams in, casting his sinister shadow on the floor in front of me. His hand caresses my hair as his whiskey breath surrounds me. "Found you."

Sitting up with a scream and fresh tears falling down my cheeks, I held my chest as my heart tried to hammer its way out. Even though it was freezing in my room, sweat dripped from my forehead and down my shoulders. It took me a few moments to realize where I was, to know that I was away from hell, away from him. I thought I was rid of these nightmares that felt too real, but they always weasel their way back into my mind, and made me feel weak all over again. It's been over ten years. If he hasn't found me by now, then he never will. But that fear is always there, tormenting me, so I continue to look over my shoulder. If he does happen to find me, I hope he kills me rather than have me under his control again. But that would never happen, death would be too kind.

Footsteps came from the hall and my door opened slowly. Before she could peek in, I called out, "It's okay." I didn't want her to see me like this. Panicked, afraid, and vulnerable with my mask down. "Just a bad dream." She paused a moment and then shut the door, wishing me a good night. If only I could have a peaceful night for once.

Dalia, my roommate, never tried to pry into my personal business. I appreciated that. She respected the boundaries I had set and never once complained. After my last roommate moved out, the third in less than a year from being fed up with the rules, I thought I was going to have to find a second job. But here came this southern sweetheart, with her long blonde hair and hazel eyes, a student with shockingly no social life. She liked to joke that we were a roommate match made in heaven. Dalia is also a neat freak, so things were never unorganized. She was always in before dark, so I never had to deadbolt her out of the apartment, and no social life meant I never had to worry about strangers being around. Especially men. My sense of security was important to me, and even though I never said that out loud, I think Dalia knew.

When morning came, we both acted as if nothing had happened. I could see the questions in her eyes but she never asked. I never mentioned I have night terrors, but then again, I haven't had one in almost two years, so I didn't think it would be an issue. But I liked Dalia, so I didn't want this to be a reason for her to want to leave. I'm not one for opening up, so this was very uncomfortable for me to do.

"I'm sorry for last night." I spoke. She turned from the fridge slowly and faced me. I liked it better when she was looking away. "I didn't mean to wake you. That hasn't happened in a while."

"So it's happened before." She commented and sat on one of the barstools, her elbows resting on the island. I should really be careful what I say. She is too observant sometimes. "How long has it been an issue?"

Dalia has never asked anything before, but I have never opened up about anything to give her a chance to either. Besides work and school, we didn't talk about much. I began to open my mouth to tell her I didn't want to talk about it, but something else came out. "Since I was twelve. I had a rough childhood that followed me to my intimate relationships." Why was I opening up? I didn't want to, but at the same time... it felt nice. "I, um, I have to get to work." I chuckled unevenly, looking away embarrassed. She would never judge me, but I didn't want anyone to know me on this level. No one.

"I'm here if you ever want to talk. No charge." She winked. Dalia was studying psychology. Oh the irony.

I collected my bag and sweater and headed out of the door to catch the bus. Trying to hide from someone meant I couldn't exactly go to school and get a fancy career. I needed something I could learn on the job and move up the ranks. When I first came to Texas, I started working in a hotel. Cleaning rooms in exchange for a place to sleep and a small pay so I could buy food. Eventually, I saved up enough to get a phone even though I had no family or friends to call. But it was great to have it when I started looking for other job opportunities. I was able to get a second job at a gas station at nights just around the corner.

I juggled little jobs here and there, until I landed at my current one. A small retirement home in the middle of Dallas. With no experience of taking care of the elderly, I started from the bottom as a janitor. Then, in less than two years, a training position opened up for being a caregiver. There were other more qualified candidates but the guests already knew and loved me, so the manager gave me a chance. Now I'm one of the guests' favorites. The other caregivers I work beside seem to only be here for a paycheck, they did not actually enjoy their work. Coming from a shitty family, I loved being around such sweet people who just loved to talk about their lives. They just wanted someone to talk to, since most of the time, their families would hardly visit. I craved a family, for any normal relationship, while there were so many people taking advantage of the people they had. Its a shame.

"Adaline." My manager greeted me in the locker room while I put away my things. The other employees around us went about their business, not surprised at the situation.

"Good morning, Mr. Bernard." I smiled politely, professionally.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" He leaned against the lockers, a little too close for comfort, but not close enough to raise alarms to others. "Call me Vic." Victor Bernard was always careful about his flirtatious ways so as to not look suspicious. Mr. Bernard does not seem to be a bad guy, but I am weary of everyone. Especially men who look at me with such interest.

I closed my locker and stepped back, squaring my shoulders. I didn't have to look up that much to look him in his eyes. He stood maybe an inch or two taller. "I like to keep things professional in my workplace, Mr. Bernard. I have asked you to address me as you do the other employees."

An amused smirk crossed his face when I tried to step around him and he stepped at the same time to block me. Thankfully, he did not move any closer, but I was still uncomfortable. "But Miss LaRue, I like saying your first name. It's beautiful. Much like yourself." He leaned a little closer, I could smell his aftershave, which was overly applied. "I know you like to be professional in the workplace, which is why I want to take you on a date. How about dinner? Tomorrow?"

"I respectfully decline your invitation again." I looked into his eyes. He didn't look angry or upset like I expected. Finally, he nodded once and walked away.

"Your shift starts in five minutes, Miss LaRue." He called over his shoulder as he neared the doorway. "Let's not keep our guests waiting."

A small wave of relief washed over me. I don't like confrontation or even small awkward moments. They are unavoidable sometimes, but I can't back down and make anyone think I could be pushed over. I made that mistake in the past and I paid heavily for it. After some deep breathing, I closed my locker, locked it, and headed to my first room for the day.

I put on my mask that hides everything dark, placed a bright smile on my face and knocked. "Good morning Miss Trudy." I went to the shades to open them slowly. Trudy is not a morning person, and even worse on Mondays. She grumbled out a grumpy 'mornin' and started to sit up. "How about a shower and then we can go outside for breakfast? It feels great outside today."

After getting Miss Trudy settled outside with her grits and eggs, I went to find Mr. Charles. He isn't my guest to take care of, but the caregiver who is, neglects him because he can be a handful. That old man still walks around here like he is still in his twenties, hitting on all the ladies and promising them adventures. If he didn't walk around here in his boxers and a robe, I'm sure he could pick up anyone with his smooth talk. I found Mr. Charles trying to sneak into Francine's room. Those two have an on and off romance that I find cute, but disturbing when I catch them making out like teenagers skipping class.

"Ah, ah, ah." I scolded him as I pulled the door closed. "Francine is upset with you, remember?" I tied his robe closed and helped walk him down the hall back towards his room. "Now let's get you dressed. Your daughter is visiting today."

The day went by as usual. What I liked about older people is they liked to stick to their habits, so it makes my job easy, but never boring. Once I clocked out and gathered my things, I headed out the door and down the street to the bus stop. As I sat there and waited, I felt something uncomfortable. Like I was being watched. Looking around carefully, not wanting to look alarmed, I saw people but no one looked familiar or out of place. I was able to calm down a little when the bus came, and I quickly got on. Only a few other people got on with me, and soon I was on my way home. But that feeling never went away. Like if someone was watching me at the bus stop, their eyes burned a permanent mark on me.

Instead of getting off at my usual stop, I got off two stops early and started to walk. There were no cars following me and no one on foot, but why did I still feel unsettled? Why did I still feel anxious and on edge? I turned the corner and ran into someone's chest, falling on my ass. I looked up and saw a very tall, intimidating man standing over me. The building was casting a shadow so I couldn't see him clearly. It frightened me, and he must have seen it on my face because he finally spoke softly.

"Are you okay?" His voice surrounded me. He held out his hand, but I scooted back and stood up on my own. I tried to walk around him, but he held out his arm to stop me. I was ready to scream, but he stepped back with his hands raised. "I don't mean to frighten you, just wanted to make sure you were okay." We were now turned at a different angle and I could see that he was wearing a police uniform.

"I'm fine." I whispered, and proceeded to walk around him again.

"I'm Jacob. I apologize for causing you to lose your balance." Now that I stood just a few feet from him, I saw he was not as tall and intimidating as I thought. In heels I could probably pass him. His black hair looked shiny in the streetlight, and his brown eyes darkened slightly as he looked at me. A car started to slow and park at the curb, the driver got out, and I started to back away. "No need to be scared, it's just my partner." I still said nothing. "Would you like a ride home? You seem quite startled."

"NO." I answered firmly. Police officers make me nervous. Especially since I have been running from my sins for so long.

His eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head. "Okay, but take this with you." He held out a card. "My private number in case you run into trouble. Please take it." I hesitated at first, then I finally took it and he smiled. "It was nice to meet you, Adaline."

As he started to walk away, I realized that I had not told him my name. How did he know who I was? Panic and hysteria started to take over, my breaths became shallow and rapid. My chest was tightening and my head was spinning. He found me. He found me. He fou-. I've been so careful, but I've also been in the same place longer than normal.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Jacob walked back towards me but I reached in my purse, pulled out my pocket knife, and held it between us. "Whoa, calm down." He put his hands up and stepped back. His partner reached for his gun, but Jacob told him to stop.

"How do you know my name!" I practically growled at him. "I didn't tell you my name!" He pointed to my shirt. I was still wearing my ID badge from work. I usually take it off and leave it in my locker, which is why I was so freaked out. Dying from embarrassment, I put the knife away and tried to calm down, but the adrenaline was still in my veins. "I-I-I'm sorry." I whispered and started to briskly walk away.

I could hear him calling after me, but I drowned him out. How could I be so stupid? Not only did I make a fool of myself, but for a short moment my mask fell, and I am sure he saw everything I tried so desperately to keep hidden. All the pain, fear, and trauma that no one needed to know about was all out there for him to see. Now an officer knows something is up, or I would not have acted the way I did. I messed up horribly. Again.

I went straight to my room once I got home. Dalia was already in her room, probably studying since she had her 'Shhh' sign on her door. Once behind my closed door, I sunk to my knees and cried silently. The nightmares, the fear of being found, the panic attack I had with a stranger. Is this my life? To constantly be afraid of if or when I will be found? This is no life at all to be constantly looking over my shoulder wondering if this man is following me, or that person knows the monster that haunts me. After a shower, I lay in bed, hoping to calm down and try to rest. Tomorrow I have to go back to work like nothing happened.

'I'll never let my mask fall again. The walls are strong, the old me will not come flooding out.' I promised myself. As I lay in the dark, sleep would not find me. My mind kept replaying tonight over and over again. That dreadful feeling started to consume me, pulling me into despair. The tears blurred my vision and I didn't bother to wipe them away. Because something finally clicked in my head.

Even after ten years, I am still afraid of him.

I got away and yet he is always here in my head, in my dreams, in every face of the strangers around me. I moved to another country to get away from him, but there is no getting away because he traumatized me so well, that I can't relax. I can't enjoy life, or trust people. I can't even give my all in a relationship or I will feel vulnerable and vulnerability is not an option for me. Slowly that monster weasled his way into every corner of my life and won't let go. No matter what I do, or how far away I go, I will never be rid of the enormous darkness that is him. Cursed to be under his control even when I am away from him, because I am living a miserable life. But I know I created this miserable life for myself with my hysteria and fear. But that's all I know. From a child, to a teenager to an adult, my life has been chaos, trauma, depression, and just misery. Maybe that is all it will be. Things will never change.

I'll never be free.