Narnia the real story

Chapter 4

I woke up in the middle of the night, screaming my head of. I looked around and found that I was still in Narnia and I started crying. It had felt so real. The others had woken up as well and Lucy came to my side and took me in her arms. "Shh it was just a dream" She told me. This just made me cry even harder. "H.. He did it again. I... I told him to stop. But... But he wouldn't" I blurted out between sobs. "Who wouldn't stop Linnea?" Peter asked me. "My stepfather" I told him. "What did he do? Why did he need to stop?" He urged on. "He did things to me no one should ever do. He.. He raped me." I told him the last part hardly audible, but they heard and they all gasped. "Did that happen in real life or was it just a dream?" Peter asked me shocked. "He did that to me a lot since I was thirteen. I never told anyone, and my mom is too blind to see or just doesn't care" I told him bitterly. "Linnea. How did you get to Narnia?" Susan asked me quietly. "I... I" I stammered. "You can trust us. We won't judge you" Lucy told me. "I know. It's just hard to talk about." I told them truthfully. I took a deep breath. "I had enough of it. enough of the rape, enough of the mother who didn't care for me or my siblings, enough of life. I came here when I jumped in front of a train. I came here when I tried to commit suicide." I told them in a rush as I looked at the ground. After a minute I finally had the courage to look up, and what I found surprised me. I wasn't the only one in tears. Lucy, Peter, Susan and the Beavers were all crying silent tears too. "That's horrible" I heard Lucy say as she hugged me closer, this time I put my arms around her too. suddenly they all gave me a big group hug. "Let's go back to sleep. We'll talk more tomorrow, OK?" Mr. Beaver told us. "Yeah sure" I said and they went back to sleep. I couldn't I was too restless to go back to sleep and besides I was way too scared I would have a nightmare again. After I was absolutely sure everybody was asleep again I got up and climbed the tree in which we had been hiding for the wolves and sat on one of the branches. I felt lost and hurt so I did the one thing that always brought me some kind of comfort. I pulled my pocketknife out of my jeans and opened it. The blade was sharp and covered in blood. My own blood. I rolled up my left sleeve revealing the scars that were there from all the times I had cut and put the knife on the inside of my arm. I hesitated for a split second thinking 'this isn't a good idea' but the need for blood won and I dragged the knife along my arm, again and again. I cut ten times and put the knife away. The emotional pain went away as physical pain took my full attention and I sighed out of happiness. I sat completely still for a couple minutes just loving the sensation. But the feeling of peace didn't stay and after ten minutes the physical pain reduced to just an itchy feeling and the emotional pain took over again. I sighed. It was always like that, and you think I would learn that it wasn't a solution. But as I said before it's an addiction. I was glad I had told the Pevensies and the Beavers about my life, but I was also pretty happy I hadn't told them about the addiction. after I made sure the wounds weren't bleeding anymore, there was no more blood on my arm or anywhere else but the branch I had been on. (FYI that was the highest one) I put my sleeve down. I climbed out, laid down with the rest again and went to sleep.