PTSD – Short Stories

“Here’s a notepad,” the woman I had been talking to at the desk handed me a plain notepad and pen, a sympathizing look in her eyes, “If you need anything just ask.”

I nodded, a lump in my throat already. I thought I had been prepared for this. My mind went back to that moment as if it was happening all over again.

I felt his hands on me. I felt him inside me. I tried telling him to stop. But just like the first time, he didn’t stop in my flashback. I relived those few minutes several times over by the time I was done writing my story. My handwriting was messy from my haste and distress. I tried skimming over my words but couldn’t bring myself to really look at them.

I stared blankly down at the paper, feeling my mind wonder off. I felt the pain dull and slip away. I wasn’t thinking about anything in particular. Everything was grey and bland. Numb.

A phone rang and brought me back. The anxiety returned with me. I looked up, my hand shaking. The lady looked down at her phone then put it away in a drawer.

“I know this is really difficult. Would you like me to go through it with you so you don’t have to be alone?” She read the look on my face and her hardened face softened just a bit.

“No, I’m done,” I handed her the notepad but fumbled with the pen. I took a deep breath before handing it back.

I lay in bed with the feeling of dread overcoming me. I felt like I was suffocating. My throat was tight and the pit in my stomach grew more every minute. My hands trembled as I balled them up into fists. My eyes were puffy and red but no tears came out.

I didn’t dare close my eyes during these attacks. I would be forced to see images burned into my mind, relive things I wanted to forget. But even without those images in front of my I felt the pain of them.

I winced as I felt a dull ache on my face. My neck. My head. I put my hands over my face to shield myself. More pain on my wrists.

I wanted these phantoms gone. I wanted my life back. But I knew that could never be possible. I would always live with these memories. I would always go through this.

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