Less than Perfect by S. J. Evans (love letters to the dead txt) 📕

thought I could make it myself.”
He touched her shoulder, carefully. “Here, Skye,” he insisted, “let me help you.”
She didn’t fight him as he lifted her back into his arms and headed out of the room, too weary and worn to be stubborn. She only wanted to be free from the hazy nightmare.

“They’re on their way, Skye,” Victor said, snapping his phone shut and sitting down next to her on the couch.
Skye, rubbing her newly bandaged wrists with the help of an unexpected friend, took a deep breath of relief. The police were on their way. The secret had been revealed, Johnny will be thrown in prison, and she can go back to living without fear, back to how things were when that monster wasn’t a part of her life. She would finally be able to live with peace.
Sinking into the couch, she closed her eyes and tried to let the world fade away. Her consciousness was dim, her cloudy mind dwelling at the corner of sleep. She wanted to sleep but she was too anxious and uneasy about what was about to happen. She wanted to be awake when they led Johnny away, led him to a place he should have been long ago. She needed to be sure it was really happening.
So she held onto consciousness, no matter how oppressing sleep became. “Thank you, Victor,” she said. She spoke quietly, the words caressing the humid air as she fluttered her eyes open. The longer she held her eyes closed, the harder it became to fight sleep. Smiling a little, she added, “For everything.”
He looked at her, eyes peering deep within her soul, and returned her smile. “Anything for you, Skye,” he replied. “I’m really sorry we got off on such a wrong foot before. I never meant to wound you with what I told you, I was only trying to look out for both of you. But I know that I should have stayed out of it. And honestly, I haven’t seen Jules this happy in a long time, a really, really long time. He really does care about you, Skye. It’s obvious he loves you, or at the least has strong feelings towards you. So nevertheless, do you think we can start over?”
She thought about what he said for a few moments, registering it. A smile crawled up the corners of her mouth as she thought about her time spent with Jules, the boy she loved. She thought about how he was always telling her he could hurt her but she didn’t bother asking Victor about it. She wanted Jules to be the one to tell her what it was that made him so afraid of hurting her.
As she examined Victor, she noticed something was different about him, but couldn’t quite place what it was. All she knew was that she liked it. It made her want to give him a second chance, start over fresh. After all, he saved her life; it was the least she thought could do.
“It’s okay, Victor,” she told him. Muscles aching in protest, she managed to sit up. “I know you were just trying to be a good friend. So don’t worry about me, or him, we’re going to be just fine. And I really would like to start over, if you’re interested.”
He grinned, white teeth framed by light lips and pale skin. And instead of saying anything else, he nodded and held out his hand.
Slowly, she held out her hand as well and shook it, finding the entire situation odd. It was nice of him to want to start things over, she couldn’t deny that much, but the timing was what really seemed odd to her. She’d been through an ordeal, and maybe he was just trying to lighten the mood, calm her down, but suddenly something didn’t feel right. Fear clasped a hold on her again, choking any minuscule form of happiness away.
She drew her hand away, abrupt, and grimaced, overwhelmed with sudden worry. She could hear the sirens a short distance away, but it still wasn’t enough—something felt incredibly wrong. Her heartbeat sped, mind trying to grapple with the fast changing state around her. The house hadn’t changed at all, it was still quiet and cool, just as it had been since Johnny was left unconscious. But something didn’t seem right, and it terrified her.
Seeing her unease, Victor was at her side in one swift movement, holding her hand in his and regarding her with careful eyes. “What’s wrong?”
She’d gasped at his touch, taken aback. “How did you—? Victor, I don’t know what’s wrong, but something’s definitely not right.”
He frowned, brows furrowed in confusion. “Why do you think something’s not right? Just a second ago you seemed happy.”
Her head ached, confusion and fear building up. She could hardly move, pain lingering in almost every part of her body. “I was happy. But I just have this terrible feeling that something’s gone very wrong now.” Her voice was urgent, despite the short breaths she was taking.
That’s when it hit her. She figured out what put her at such unease.
“Victor!” she gasped. “Is it possible that Johnny could have regained consciousness already?”
There was something dark in his eyes, possibly fear. “It’s possible, yes. But it’s very unlikely, Skye. He couldn’t have woken up already.”
She shook her head, panicked. “He’s awake, Victor, I can feel it. I’d recognize this feeling anywhere. It’s overwhelming right now.”
“You’re scared, Skye, that’s all. You went through something very traumatic and you’re probably just scared. He’s not a threat to you, Skye. The police are almost here.”
She pushed his hand away, appalled. “Not a threat

?” she gasped. “Victor, if he gets out of this house as a free man, there’s no telling what could happen! He could hurt the ones I love if he escaped. So don’t tell me he’s not a threat. You don’t know what he’s put me through!”
By the time she’d finished screaming at him, she scrambled to get off the couch, only to be blocked by him with each attempt. “Please, Victor!” she wailed. “Do something! Give me proof that I’m wrong!” Tears poured down her face as she sobbed, imagining and remembering all of the terrible things Johnny could do or has done. She couldn’t get his face out of her mind, the dark, cold eyes he looked at her with. She couldn’t get the memory of his abuse out of her mind, playing itself on a never ending repeat. She saw him above her, remembered his hot breath bathing her skin, and felt his rough hands invading her and bruising her now battered body.
She was crumbling from the pressure, left sobbing in Victor’s arms.
“It’s okay, Skye, they’re here now. And if he did somehow get away like you fear, they’ll find him. He’s never going to hurt you again, all right?” he soothed, holding her frail and beaten body. He rocked her in his arms, hushing her, trying to calm her, as she thrashed in his arms with bitter sobs that shook them both.
Police bombarded through the front door, yelling things to each other as they looked around the house. Skye felt the assurance that she was safe for the time being, but feared what was to come. She couldn’t imagine what would happen to her and the ones she loved if Johnny had gotten away. He wouldn’t be as understanding now that she’d exposed their “little” secret to more than one person. She knew he would find a way to make her regret it.
Everything started to fade out around her as she wept, still wrapped securely in Victor’s arms. She tried to tell him he wasn’t helping, that he was making things worse, but her throat constricted on the words, choked with tears. The house was no longer silent, her fear turned to utter horror, and vaguely, through ringing ears, she heard two little words that made her blood run cold. She heard two words that changed everything, right before she slipped from the world in a deep, dark slumber.
“He’s gone.”

Shelter

“You’ve got it all wrong, Princess,” Johnny drawled, stepping up to Skye and wrapping his arms around her. “You’re supposed to be with me.”
She stood there for a moment, frozen in fear, before she took a deep breath and closed her eyes to think straight. “No, Johnny,” she snapped. “I’ve got everything just right. You’re the one who’s wrong. I will never be with you.” Fear surged through her body, adrenaline pumping. She was trying to stay strong, to not give in, but her pounding heart was driving away her confidence. His touch, so familiar and sickening, violated her, bringing back the horrific memories of his assault.
He pulled her into him more, as she struggled a little, and nuzzled his face in her neck. His warm breath brushed her hair, chills springing down her spine in response. He kissed her ear, whispering, “You will be, Skylar, I promise.”

Screaming loud enough to shatter glass, Skye bolted upright in bed, only to be stopped short by skinny hands gripping her shoulders. Tears cascaded down her pale face as she gasped for air to scream again, shaking erratically in the grip someone had on her. “Please, stop!” she wailed, eyes squeezed shut from fear.
“Skye sweetie, it’s okay,” Leah soothed, giving Skye’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “It’s just me. It’s your mother.”
Relief crashed over Skye in a wave, washing away the horror of what was only a dream. I’m safe,

she reminded herself. Johnny can’t hurt me again.

She stopped pulling away from her mother’s grip, even though she was still somewhat afraid of contact, and let out a quivering breath. However, when she remembered the events of the night before, shivers ran down her entire body, chilling her to the bone. But maybe I’m not safe. Johnny is out there, somewhere, and he never got what he wanted. He never got me, all of me.

Sweat ran down the sides of her face, along with a few tears, as she peeled her eyes open. The room around her came as a surprise. She was in the guest room, greeted by warm brown walls, dim sunlight coming in from the shaded window, picture frames that hung on the walls, and one person whom she knew cared about her very much. Leah was with her, watching over her, and that was all that really mattered. She had to try to