These dreams didn’t come to her often, but every now and then something in her mind triggers them, and the days following it are tough. She was becoming more away that it was a dream now, her conscious mind peering through the clouds of her nightmare to remind her that it isn’t real. Only it is, and it did happen. The soft callings of her name did nothing to draw her back to reality, she was just too taken by the vivid images. For most, being shaken  out of a nightmare did wonders to calm them, but being touched only jolted her more. The nature of the dream and her time spent on the East Side was one thing that she hadn’t told the young man sitting at the foot of her hand about. Not quite yet.<br/><br/>She was trapped in her head when she felt a hand touch her knee. Only, she didn’t understand this as a sign of comfort, or help, she felt it as a sin of pain. So, when a large hand wrapped itself around her knee, she jumped away, pulling her legs as close to her body as she could.<br/>“Please, please don’t,” she whimpered. She stayed in this state for a moment before she opened her eyes, catching the figure sitting in front of her as she scanned her surroundings. Reality hit her like a truck, and she realized that she wasn’t trapped, she wasn’t hurting. She was here, with Arc, safe. She took a couple deep breaths, realizing where she was as she wiped her face, though tears still fell freely. She was still curled tightly in the corner, though she let herself unwind as she calmed her breathing. She sniffled, her breathing shaky as she turned to him, refusing to met his eyes. Like stated before, she hates to cry in front of others.<br/><br/>“I’m sorry that I woke you, I’m fine,” she was asking him to leave without verbally requesting it, though he made no effort to go back to his work bench, making her sigh in defeat. Besides, her wavering voice betrayed her claim, and she cleared her throat. She glanced up at him to see him listening. She rung her shaky hands together and took yet another deep breath, her bottom lip trembling as she did.<br/><br/>“You know, there’s not a whole lot I’m scared of? I mean, I’ve been tortured before, attacked by a giant dog, escaped my own prison, but....” she looked at him, seeing he was waiting for her to continue. She hadn’t ever had anyone to speak to about her past experiences, and she figured that talking may help. So she did. She spilled everything she had until there wasn’t a drop of the story left. “The man who killed my sister is named Alpha. I don’t know why they call him that, they just do. He’s the head of the group, and he runs the show. I happen to know his real name, it’s Gregory Hall, I guess that may be the reason he changed it. After they uh, after they killed my sister and caught me, they threw me into this cell that was just below his bedroom, it was a trap door under the red mat, next to the bookshelf. The black one, not the brown. They had fun hurting me, it was some sort of game but it wasn’t the worst, they’d never injure me enough to kill me because Gregory would kill them. So they had their fun sometimes but I was different for him, he said I was ‘special’, whatever the hell that means. So pretty much everyday, or whenever he felt like it, he’d bring me out and...” she let him fill in the blank, not wanted to say it herself. “I have scars on my wrists from the ropes, I tried to get away in the beginning but he’s strong, so I never could. Didn’t matter what I pleaded.” He voice was beginning to grow cold as she spoke, staring at her hands. “Let me just say, being forced for three years kind of kills your fire, whether you had any or not to begin with. So that’s what happened, maybe a month into it I just went numb, stopped fighting, let it happen. I honestly don’t know where I got the motivation to escape from. It was only with him, however. When someone else would get me, I would fight them nonstop, all the time, but not with him. He..he broke me somehow, and only to him.” She looked over to Arc now, her eyes glistening as she spoke “I’m completely numb to everything, nothing made me feel until...you...” she admitted to him, resting her head on her knees. “You wanted to know what happened at the East Side? I was hurt, forced, you name it, but what he did? I’ll never get that back. Before he...you know, I hadn’t ever..done that.” She had hoped he knew what she meant. She was able to get through the story, she’d told it in her head before, but looking up to Arc and seeing the way he looked to her made her break. She began to cry softly, not violently like before, but enough to put a small shake in her shoulders. “He took away something that I’ll never get back, I don’t know what to do,” she whimpered softly, shaking her head.<br/><br/>She didn’t know, and she wasn’t sure that anyone could help her, but at least someone could understand.