Trapped

by Lucy Wild

  I slam down into the bed but before I can take a breath he lifts me and flips me over, raising me onto all fours. I push my hips back at him as he stays still, making me work onto him. I shuffle further, getting him as far in me as I can. Then I rock back and forth in place, impaling myself on his length, bringing myself to another climax a minute later, hearing him growl with desire as he loses control.

  He grabs my hips and fucks me so hard I’m screaming into the mattress. I come again and again until my body is ablaze with desire and even as I shake through another moment of recovering between climaxes I hear him grunt. He’s about to…

  It happens and I grin broadly, feeling the spurting warmth of him coming in me. It fills me as his shaft twitches and he remains deep in me for a long time, the last drops falling from him long before he slides out, climbing straight out of bed as if nothing has happened. He vanishes into the next room and I wonder what I’ve done wrong.

  I get up, wobbling in place as my legs refuse to listen to my commands to move, wanting to remain still. I can’t though. I need to know where he’s gone.

  I push open the door and see him dressing in a corner. I glance from him to a cot which contains a baby deer. I feel like I’m in a cartoon all of a sudden. Is he for real?

  “What’s going on?” I ask as he buttons up a checked shirt across his chest.

  “Storm’s over,” he says. “I can take you back.”

  I sink mentally. I don’t want to go back anymore. I want to stay with him. I don’t want to leave. “Oh,” I say quietly. “Have I done something wrong?”

  He shakes his head. “Can you walk on that?”

  “It feels a lot better,” I say, pushing down on my ankle.

  He passes me a pair of women’s trousers and a teeshirt. They smell of flowers. I don’t ask where he got them. I’m not sure I want to know the answer. I put them on before collecting my shoes, already dried from the heat of the fire.

  I feel more upset than I should. I have no right to an emotional connection. I don’t know this man. I don’t even know his name.

  Despite that, I’m so sad as we leave that I can hardly speak. I trudge after him through the snow, hardly able to keep up. Twice I lose sight of him, having to follow his footprints before catching sight again. It takes an hour to reach my car. It was closer than I thought, easy to get to when you know the way.

  When we reach it I feel odd. When I got lost I was desperate to find it again, thinking it would represent my salvation. Now it feels like it is a prison transport, here to carry me from where I want to be. I look at him and then at the snow covered road. “I can’t go anywhere yet.” I say, pointing at the treacherous conditions. I want him to tell me I can stay. Instead he shrugs and turns away, vanishing back into the forest. My heart goes with him, leaving the rest of me feeling empty and terribly alone.

  EIGHT - ASH

  I HAVE TO WALK AWAY because the sight of the road covered in snow triggers something locked away in my mind, brought about from seeing her in Jess’s clothes beside it. All of a sudden, I’m driving again. Jess beside me, laughing at the babbling noises coming from the back. Ally strapped into her baby seat. She is facing the back of the car but we have two mirrors set up so we can keep an eye on her. She’stalking away to herself, mimicking our conversation for the first time.

  “Ba ba ba ba,” she says between blowing raspberries.

  I only glance up at the mirror for a second and that is all it takes.

  “It’s really coming down out there,” Jess says just as the steering gets away from me. I am there again, it is happening again. The car begins to spin, fishtailing one way and then the other. Ally isn’t talking anymore, she’s screaming as we jolt from left to right, hitting the fence at the edge of the road and smashing straight through it. I have my foot on the brake, pressed to the floor to no avail.

  “Stop,” Jess cries but I can do nothing. It’s as if I’m an observer, not a driver. Time seems to slow down. Rolling down the hill takes hours even though afterwards I am told it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. When the car comes to a rest, I am alone in the world. The two people I love more than anything are gone and so is my heart. It turns black and dark and bitter and I thought that was how things would always be.

  I have barely walked into the treeline when I stop, staggering against a huge pine trunk. I get my breathing under control, blinking as I come back to the present. My heart is racing, thudding in my chest as adrenaline courses through me. It’s all so real.

  I didn’t think I could ever love again. I didn’t think I could ever look at another woman. When the urges came, I ignored them, hoping they’d go away. But with her, something has changed. It is the first time I’ve seen a woman and not felt anger or pain. An overwhelming sense of guilt wash over me, like I shouldn’t feel anything good anymore, not after what has happened to me.

  I need to see her again. I walk out of the trees and she’s still standing by the car looking worried. She smiles so broadly when she sees me that a spark of heat grows in me. I don’t deserve someone who smiles like that. She is meant to be with someone like her, not someone as screwed up as me. It’s better that she’s going.

  But I can’t help walking over to her, about to tell her she can stay. I am confused as hell in my head, the flashback making me dizzy. I open my mouth to say she can come back to the cabin when a snow plough comes roaring down the hill, spraying plumes of white towards us both. I realise first, ducking behind the car and pulling her down with me. The snow flashes over our heads like a fountain but the vehicle shields us from getting covered completely.

  I stand up, starting to brush snow from her car with my arm as she gets slowly to her feet. “Thanks,” she says.

  As the thick clumps of snow fall from the window, I notice the back seats are crammed full with boxes. She sees where I’m looking.

  “I’m moving,” she says, pulling the front door open and starting the engine, switching the heating to full before turning to face me again. “I don’t want to.”

  I nod and it all comes spilling out of her in one go. I get the feeling she hadn’t been able to share with anyone before.

  “It’s a crappy houseshare with three people I’ve never met and I only picked this place because it’s all I can afford without my parents help and I’m not asking them for help because I don’t need it.” She pauses for breath before continuing. “All I wanted was some peace but I don’t know. Can you get peace in a house with three students?”

  I shrug.

  “I can’t live at home anymore. I just can’t They’re so angry all the time. They say they want to protect me but I think they just don’t want me to grow up and the noise, Christ, you wouldn’t believe the noise. If they’re not yelling at each other, they’re yelling at me and I just want a bit of peace, is that too much to ask? I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”

  I put my hand on her arm, squeezing softly. “It’s all right,” I say.

  What I was thinking at that moment was that if she asked if she could stay with me, I would say yes without a moment’s hesitation. There is a single crystal clear second of clarity in my head. She has to ask and I have to say yes. It’s that simple.

  She doesn’t ask. She gets the last of the snow from the windscreen before climbing into the driver’s seat. “Well, goodbye,” she says as I look in at her. “I guess I’ll see you around maybe?”

  I nod, saying nothing.

  I watch her skid out onto the road, swerving slightly before heading solidly away. I can’t help but think of her car spinning down the hillside but then she’s driving fine and then she’s out of sight, the only sound that of her engine fading slowly away.

  I walk back into the woods. As she talked, she looked like she was in pain. All I wanted to do was protect her, look after her, keep her safe. But how could I do that when I couldn’t even keep my infant daughter safe? What right did I have to make decisions like that?

  I get back to the cabin and wrap the
fawn’s injured leg. With Ica by the fire, the fawn gets a drink. That I can do. I can bring animals together. I can’t bring people together. I can barely keep myself together. The fire is dying again but this time I don’t bother to rekindle it. I don’t deserve the heat. I shouldn’t have done what I did. I am filled with guilt. I find the hidden bottle of rum from the back of the cupboard. I sit down hoping to finish the bottle before falling asleep. I almost manage it.

  NINE - ISOBEL

  I MAKE IT TO YORK. I almost have a panic attack half a dozen times on the way, sliding through the snow as the car skids from left to right. I get here in the end though.

  The snow has already begun to melt by the time I park up at what is to be my new house. There is no sign of the removals truck. I dig out the number and ring them. The first time no one answers but the second, a gruff voice barks at me, “What?”

  “Hi, this is Isobel. I was just wondering-”

  “The road’s been closed, love. We’ve had to pull off and wait. Gonna be a few hours yet.”

  “Oh, right, I see. Well, I’m here so just let me know when you get here, would you?”

  “Will do, love.”

  He hangs up, leaving me standing outside the house not quite sure what to do. It is a terraced street and at the far end, I can see the medieval city wall. I’ve taken the last available parking space, cars lining both sides of the road. Is this the right place for me? It seems so cramped compared to my parents house. Could a place this small really fit four people inside?

  I knock on the door and wait. A woman dressed all in black answers, looking annoyed at being roused. “Whatever you’re selling, we don’t want,” she says before I get a chance to speak.

  That’s as friendly as she gets. I explain who I am but she narrows her eyes suspiciously. “I don’t know who you’ve been speaking to but there’s no spare room here.”

  It dawns on me over the course of the next half hour. I’ve been conned. The person I was emailing doesn’t live at the house or own it. The occupants have never even heard of him. I have transferred the deposit and the first month’s rent to a ghost. I get a sinking feeling in my stomach as the reality hits me. I’m going to have to turn around and go home. My parents will tell me they told me so, I can’t cope in the real world.

  As the woman is talking, I get a phone call. It’s the removals team. “Hold on a sec,” I say to her as I answer the phone. “Hello?”

  “We’re on our way love.” I can hear the truck revving its engine in the background.

  “Ah, there’s been a bit of a change of plan. I need you to take everything back.”

  I earn an earful of abuse, forcing me to hold the phone away from my head. The woman rolls her eyes before closing the door in my face. The phone is still shouting, “-think we do this for fun? Any idea how long we’ve been sat here waiting for the snow to clear-”

  I start to cry. This isn’t how moving is supposed to go. I wish I never left home. Then I think of him, of the man in the forest.

  I had made a conscious effort when I drove away to not think about him. The road conditions helped, needing me to concentrate on my driving and nothing else.

  I think back to the roadside, me about to climb into the car, him watching me go. I told myself that if he asked me to stay, I would. I couldn’t force myself on his hospitality, he had to want me to stay. He never asked. He had no interest in me. I had fooled myself into thinking it could work. It never could.

  I stand by my car outside the closed door of a house that is laughing at me, the net curtain twitching as the occupants mutter and point out at me, at my ear the removals man whose name I can’t even remember is continuing to berate me. I close my eyes and think back to the cabin. Nothing bad happened in the cabin. It was a happy place, a peaceful, calm place. I want to be there more than anything.

  I hang up the phone. I can’t hear any more abuse. I then climb back into the car and with a feeling of resignation, I start the long journey back to my parents house.

  I don’t think as I drive, I’m too numb. An hour later I look up and I realise where I am, I’m driving towards the forest. My subconscious has taken up map reading duties and guided me in that direction. I reach the last town before the forest and I pull up. My head is swimming. I look around me. I’m in a place no bigger than a village. I can see a pub at the far end of the street, a rough looking place. It makes me think of him again.

  I wonder if fate might be on my side. Is it possible that he might visit a place like this? That he might sometimes emerge from the forest? I am looking that way when I see a man heading towards the pub, walking along the opposite pavement. I can’t see his face but I’m sure its him. He’s wearing the same red checked shirt I last saw on him.

  I get out of the car and cross the road, hurrying to catch up with him, squelching through the melting snow. He is in the pub before me and I walk through the open door, about to call out to him.

  I put my hand on his shoulder and he turns. My heart sinks as I realise it’s not him. “Sorry,” I mutter as he turns away again. “I thought you were someone else.”

  The pub is full of red checked shirts. It’s like a lumberjack convention. There must be a sawmill nearby. A couple of farmers are talking about sheep prices to my left. To the right is a dart board in use. There are no women to be seen. I run my eyes over every face but he is not here. I don’t know why I thought he might be.

  I turn to leave but my way is blocked by a large group crashing in. They take one look at me and smile. The smiles aren’t friendly. I try to push past them but it’s like trying to move through a solid wall.

  “Not leaving, I hope,” one of them says.

  “Excuse me,”I say, trying again to push past.

  There’s a laugh to my right and I realise I’m the joke. The whole place is looking at me. The men have me surrounded. I feel trapped. I look up at them, wondering what the hell to do now.

  TEN - ASH

  I WAKE UP WITH THE empty bottle beside me and decide I want more. That’s the only reason I ever go into town. It’s a long walk and not one I make often. I don’t drink anywhere near as much as I did. It numbed the pain for a while and it still does when I need it to but I’m past the stage of needing it every day.

  I need it today though. I had hold of the lightest, most innocent bloom in the forest, and I let her slip through my fingers. I am a bloody fool.

  I walk through the trees and out of the other side. By the time I get into the open the light is starting to fade. I plan on going into the one shop to get another bottle or two but I see too many people outside. I decide to wait for it to die down. I head for the pub instead.

  Inside is the same as ever. I order a drink and am served it in silence. I pay and down it quickly. I order another and this time I savour it, enjoying the flavour, the heat of it burning through me.

  I visit the toilet and while I’m in there I feel dizzy. I sit down in the only cubicle and put my head in my hands. It isn’t the alcohol making me feel so nauseous, what is it?

  I realise it is guilt, still washing over me. I tell myself to stop it, to stop feeling things. I let her into my life and that was a mistake. I should have known that letting her go again would only increase my pain. She is gone. I am going to have to deal with that fact. No one that pure deserves the damage I would bring to her, the pain of my past that she had no need to know. Let her remain pure and good.

  I think of her speech before she went, of the way she talked about wanting peace, not wanting to move but not wanting to stay at home. I knew exactly how she felt.

  After the crash I wanted to turn the house into a shrine and I wanted nothing to do with the place anymore, it was too full of memories. I chose to move and I still did not know if I made the right choice. I just had to hide away.

  I stand up when I hear a noise. It is the shout of a woman. There hasn’t been a woman in here the entire time I’ve been visiting. She sounds like she’s in trouble.

  I ste
p out and see her swinging a right hook at the leering guy in front of her. The blow is stronger than it looks, catching him in just the right place. His head whips back and hits the nose of the man behind him. Blood spurts and the two men begin to brawl. She is looking around her for a way out. I grab her hand, she looks at me with questions in her eyes. I have some of my own but they can wait. A chair flies past. Things are turning nasty.

  We duck past flailing limbs and get outside. Already the noise is fading. I keep hold of her hand and cross the street with her, spying her car on the other side. How did I not see that before? Because I wasn’t looking for her. I was looking for a drink.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  “I came back to find you,” she says.

  I am confused, not sure I hear her right. “You did what? I thought you were moving?”

  “It all went wrong,” she says and explains what happened since she left me. I listen, wanting to kiss her, wanting to feel those soft lips of hers pressed against my own. She has nowhere to go but back to her parents. Or does she?

  “They were right,” she says as she finishes. “I can’t look after myself.”

  “I think you did pretty well just now,” I reply, mimicking the swing of her fist through the air. “I’ve never seen anyone hit like that.”

  She shrugs. “I got lucky.”

  “So did I, when you walked in the forest.”

  “I need someone to look after me,” she says. “Someone big and tough and strong.”

  I freeze. The guilt is still there but beside it is a figure, misty and faint, in the distance. It is Jess. She smiles and I understand the smile. A tear forms in the corner of my eye. “I’m not a good person,” I say, the sound of skidding tyres loud in my ears.