A Passage Through Time (Part Two Of A Three-Part Short Story.)

Jamie found herself closing her eyes once her towel was wrapped around her, hurrying out of the bathroom so as not to be tempted by the emotionally damaging effects of her reflection. Each moment she had caught her reflection in the mirror it sent her into a degrading downward spiral of self-hatred and loathing.

As she crossed the landing she made her way back across to her bedroom.

'Should she try and get some sleep?'

Her eyes falling toward the bed was not too much of an inviting sight for her, what with the crumpled sheets, the duvet slumped on the floor, and oh yes, the drink stain that she had knocked off the bedside table from earlier.

'No,' she thought answering her own question from just seconds earlier, 'I'll just lie on the couch.'

She did, at least, summon up enough energy to grab her nightgown and remove her towel from as yet still wet body. She grabbed two plain light blue cushions from the other side of her bedroom, then headed across the landing in the opposite direction, toward the lounge of her one-bedroomed apartment flat.

Entering the lounge she froze. Sudden terror engulfed her as the darkness awaiting her advancing approach, set off a flurry of dark predictions of what lay in store for her, as Jamie's terrifying memories flashed through her mind. Her past traumas were instantly brought to the forefront as the chilling replay of having been raped that night whilst walking home, looming large in front of her face, as if it were happening right at this moment. She recalled the scene as she struggled against her attacker, wanting to break free from his evil clutches and escape the unwanted assailant. Tears began welling up in her eyes, as the emotional unsolicited actions of her rapist overwhelmed her. The sensation of him aggressively grabbing at the buttons of her jeans, tore through her just as though it was happening all over again, in full terrifying color. She could smell his foul breath as he thrust himself onto her, she could hear his gruff tone as he demanded she stopped, as she screamed for someone, anyone, to help her get away from him. His bristled face scraping against her breasts, as he gnawed at her blouse with his teeth, to rip it from her.

She felt suddenly cold and all the color drained from her face, as her tears started streaming, her memories all too much for her to cope with once more.

Jamie fought off the intrusive moment. Attempting to shake off the hellacious recollection of the unwanted violation, and attempted to bring herself back to the current moment in time.

'This is NOT happening now. I am safe...'

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Jamie shook her head vigorously from side to side as if attempting to shake away the uninvited memory recall, forcing herself with every breath she exhaled, to fumble for the light switch on the hallway wall to evaporate the darkness that was menacingly shrouding the lounge.

She rapidly scanned the room noting that it was empty of anyone in there and not lurking in wait for her before she ventured in, there, ready to pounce unawares upon her. The windows were firmly shut but the curtains were not yet drawn from the earlier hours where she had been in there. She lowered her eyes to the carpeted floor taking a sharp inhale of breath first, before mustering all her inner strength, then scurried across to draw them shut, banishing the outside black murkiness of night from her vision. Her breathing began to slow slightly now as the closed curtains shielded her from the fear she had developed of being outside in the darkness. Jamie could feel some, but not all, of the tension that had saturated her emotions that had woken her from her nightmare previously.

Sitting down on her couch, she attempted to practice her breathing & anxiety regulation skills, that the mental hospital ward had taught her in the weeks running up to her discharge. Now just a mere 4-weeks ago. The hospital had told her, no, convinced her, that she was ready for discharge back to home but, despite her voicing much concern over this to her key nurse, even her consultant persuaded her that she was more than ready to be allowed to return home. She placed her arms resting upon her legs and tried focusing on the framed photograph on the wall opposite from where she sat. A picture of her family pet dog that she had grown up with, a pure white husky, The dog had featured as a large part of her younger life until she left her family home, moving away to the north of England just two years to this date, to embark on a new job as a paralegal secretary to a large law firm. She had taken this photograph with her when admitted to hospital for self-harm & severe anxiety, as it provided a warming sense of love and hope, even on the darkest of days on the ward, when her nightmares replaying her past trauma, were at their worst, and the medications the ward consultant had prescribed, were not working for her. Whilst she focussed upon the photo, she slowly inhaled a breath through her nose, holding it for a couple of seconds, then gently releasing and exhaling through her mouth. She managed to repeat this process for a count of ten sequences before she could begin to be aware of just how calm she now was. Jamie could no longer feel the strangulating hold over her mind, that first arose in her when she had been jolted from her sleep by the reoccurring nightmare.

Now much calmer & more relaxed and at ease with herself, Jamie managed to walk across the lounge to the much smaller kitchen just a few feet away to make herself a mug of hot chocolate. Flicking the switch to turn on the kettle, she remembered how she never liked the taste of hot chocolate, much preferring a strong cup of coffee instead. But whilst an in-patient on the ward, her key nurse had made her a sweet mug of it before she was encouraged to take to her bed for the night after she had been given her night hypnotic.

Her nurse had told her, 'the hot chocolate will help to relax you, whereas your regular coffee has so much caffeine in it, all it will do is keep you awake and alert and reduce the effectiveness of your hypnotic.'

Jamie smiled at herself as she remembered this, as she had all of a sudden begun to like the drink, and now always made herself one before bed, and would make herself another should she wake during the night, after calming herself, then trying to settle back into bed or the couch, if the bedroom was too traumatizing for her. She had learned how effective & useful this little routine immensely helped her.

After having made the mug of hot chocolate she made herself comfortable back in her lounge, grabbed the television remote on the table, to click on the soothing music channel that had been her favorite 'go to' since leaving the hospital. One of the techniques she was shown whilst there was just how important the value of music therapy could have toward establishing a positive effect on the state of mind of the sufferer, in helping them to engage in successful relaxation.

The last moment she could remember from this point onward with the music was, peace, tranquility, and actually feeling safe & calm, before she could feel herself drifting off into the land of sleep.

The early morning of dawn was to silently herald over Jamie, in a total blissful unawareness, as she slept on into the slow dawn of a new day...

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I wonder if this made you think of a night when this has happened to you? Follow me here on Vocal and catch my next & final installment as it is published. If you liked it then please give me a heart. Tips are always optional but, they keep allowing me to push my creativity forward too...

If you have not had a chance to read part one, then you will find it below:

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To read the final parts of my short story on Jamie & PTSD you can visit Amazon to purchase the full version available from 30th September 2021 (see link below.)

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