"Mom-mommy..." I hiccupped the words as I looked into the darkness. No answer came. I looked down feeling the slick of warm blood pool in my palm and whimpered, "Mom?" I looked around for anyone. A light shone in the distance. I pushed my body into the ground as I heard the men approach, only just realizing I had been too loud.

Sweat beaded on my brow, dripping into my eyes, dragging me from the nightmare. The memories of my dream clung to me like a shroud.

The darkened room briefly lulled me into thinking I was still asleep. If it weren't for the soft sounds drifting from outside, I might have believed it.

This was a routine I had come to accept. Hearing the hustles and bustle from their morning routine was both a welcome and a comfort. I had been with Ben and Lily for a few days now, and it felt comfortable. They expected nothing more from me than I was willing to give, and for that, I was grateful.

Yet, no amount of their patience could soothe my own restlessness. I realized that adapting to my surroundings was more challenging than I had anticipated; the journey to becoming a "real" person felt overwhelming.

I wasn't expecting to miss everything so much...

Each day brought new hurdles, and the weight of my past loomed heavily over me, making every small step forward feel like an insurmountable task.

I woke to a heaviness pressing down on me, making it hard to summon the will to rise from the bed. The weight of my emotions felt like an anchor, keeping me tethered to the soft sheets, as if getting up would somehow make everything worse.

So, I stayed hidden beneath the covers, battling the growing despair that threatened to consume me. Each tick of the clock echoed in my mind, a reminder of time passing without me.

I lay still as I heard Ben's car start from the driveway and pullout.

I moved trying to reposition, the soft creak of the mattress echoing in the stillness. With my arms stretched wide.

"Sweetie? Are you up?" Lilly peeked her head into the room, her voice warm and inviting. I sat up, smiling at her, hoping to reassure her with my expression.

Poor Lilly did everything she could to lift my spirits, offering bright smiles and gentle encouragement. Yet, despite her efforts, I felt terrible about my mood. I simply couldn't bring myself to feel happy.

It was ironic—here I was, stuck in my own mind, isolated and confused, meanwhile the 'me' a month ago would be longing for the warmth that Lilly radiated.

In a way, I suppose my wish had been granted. I had everything I wanted, yet I still felt achingly alone.

"Would you like some breakfast?" Lilly asked, her tone hopeful as she offered me a plate of warm pancakes, their sweet aroma filling the air.

I appreciated her kindness, but the food felt heavy in my stomach, much like the weight of my emotions. I hated that I couldn't enjoy the simple pleasure of sharing a meal.

I got up and followed her into the kitchen watching her for the first part of the morning from the table.

As I watched her bustling about, my self-loathing deepened. It was a growing resentment I had always harbored, but lately, it seemed more pronounced than ever.

The day continued on, I moved in between my room and the living room for a bit before sitting on the sofa, staring at the wall until I thought of something to do. Lilly moved about the house, her footsteps soft against the hardwood floors.

She bustled in and out of the kitchen, occasionally peeking into the living room to check on me. I could hear the gentle clatter of dishes, the hum of the kettle boiling, and the quiet rustle of her movements as she went about her day.

Each time she appeared, I forced a smile, grateful for her company but feeling the weight of my silence pressing down on me.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Lilly asked, concern etching her features as she returned with a steaming cup of tea. She settled into the armchair across from me, her gaze searching. "You've been awfully quiet this morning."

I settled back into the soft embrace of the couch, the fabric cool against my skin as I tried to shake off the lingering heaviness in my heart.

I shrugged, not sure how to not hurt her feelings.

She edged away from the counter slowly making her way next to me as she eases on the couch.

"I know it can be hard to be cooped up all day."

I looked at her through my lashes, shocked and embarrassed she had pinned it so fast.

"I... I don't know how to explain it," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Sweetie, it's okay if you want to talk or if you don't," Lilly said gently, her eyes soft with understanding. "You're still figuring things out, and that's perfectly normal." She paused, giving me a moment to gather my thoughts. "I want you to feel comfortable here, even if that means taking your time."

I nodded, grateful for her patience.

"If you want to get out of the house for a bit, you can," Lilly continued, her voice brightening with encouragement. "Maybe you could come to work with Ben one of these days. I think it might be good for you to be around a few more people, and he'd love to have you there."

The idea caught me off guard. I hadn't thought about going anywhere, let alone to a place bustling with people. But the thought of seeing Ben in a different light and stepping outside stirred something within me.

I felt a hesitant thrill at the prospect. The fear of stepping out clashed with a desire to break free from my confinement. But the warmth of her smile and the gentleness in her voice made it a little easier to consider.

"Would that be okay?" I managed to ask, my voice still trembling with uncertainty.

"Of course! I think it would do you good to see a bit more of the town. No pressure, sweetie. Just think about it." She paused, her gaze encouraging. "I know it's a big step, but it could be fun!"

Her words wrapped around me like a warm blanket, easing some of the heaviness in my heart. As I imagined the possibility of stepping outside with Ben, I felt a flicker of hope mingling with my anxiety.

"Okay..." I whispered, allowing a small smile to creep onto my face, buoyed by the thought of what tomorrow might hold.