Fear of Falling

still couldn’t escape it. The memory had taken hold and refused to let me go, clawing into me, making me relive every single sordid second. But whoever was pulling me to safety, freeing me from myself, was much stronger.
    I could hear his voice, asking me if I was ok, telling me I was safe. My body was crushed against his, a crumpled, trembling mess of tears and sweat. We were on the ground, the hardness of the concrete unnoticed by me, as I rocked back and forth, my knees drawn up to my chest. When he pulled back a bit to assess my face, it was my undoing. Those brown eyes, wise beyond their years, full of so much concern and fear for me, snatched me away from the hell of my memories completely and brought me back to the present.
    The scream that pierced the night air sounded unnatural, like a wounded animal’s cry. I didn’t recognize it though it had come from me. I couldn’t stop screaming, couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t stop rocking back and forth as I squeezed my knees impossibly tight. I bawled until there was no more agony in me to dispel. Then I cried some more.
    “Kami! Kami, I need you to calm down. Look at me. Look at me and try to understand what I am saying,” Blaine said urgently.
    I locked eyes with his, letting his touch, his smell, permeate my senses. I needed to calm down, and I needed to trust him. I didn’t know why, but that is exactly what I wanted to do.
    “Are you hurt?” he asked, cradling my tear-stained face once my shrieks had quieted to whimpers. “Do you want me to call the police? An ambulance? Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”
    I shook my head furiously, squeezing my eyes shut. “No,” I croaked hoarsely. “I’m ok. I just need to go home. I need to go home, Blaine.”
    “Ok, let’s get you up. Do you need me to carry you?”
    I shook my head once again but made no move to stand. I couldn’t. I was still utterly frozen with fear. I didn’t even know how I had gotten in that position on the ground. The last thing I remembered was searching for my keys then…
    I couldn’t breathe. My chest felt too heavy. Too tight. I struggled to fight for just the tiniest breath, yet oxygen had abandoned me.
    “Breathe, Kami. Breathe,” Blaine said soothingly, stroking my hair. He took deep, animated breaths as if to demonstrate them to me. I focused on his voice, his touch, those warm brown eyes, and followed his lead.
    “Good. That’s good, baby,” he said softly. “Ok, I’m going to unwrap your arms now. Ok? Then we’re going to get up.”
    I nodded, afraid that breath would escape me again if I tried to speak. Blaine gently placed his hands on mine and clutched my fingers. Though I couldn’t willingly release my death grip, he somehow freed my knees without resistance from me. Once my hands were balled at my sides, he brought his face close to mine, searching for signs of approval. When he wasn’t met with another scream or sob, he slid his hands under my arms and gently lifted me to my feet.
    “Kami, I’m going to go into your purse and get your keys, ok?” he said, still supporting most of my weight. I nodded again, focusing on his soothing voice.
    Not having his face to hold my gaze as he rummaged through my purse, my eyes roamed the area around us. They came upon a clump of dark clothing a few yards away, completely still in the night. I couldn’t see a face, but I knew what it was—who it was. Horror rocked me again and I hunched over and vomited, my body heaving violently as it pushed away the remembrance of his hands on me. Blaine jumped back, then maneuvered his body behind mine and gathered my hair in his hands. Once I was absolutely sure that I wouldn’t get sick again, he eased me into the passenger seat of my car.
    “Kami…” Blaine turned to me, the steering wheel groaning under his tight grip. His face was full of confusion, pain…anger?
    “You’re hurt,” I whispered, noticing his bloodied knuckles.
    He shook his head, flexing his hands. “I’m fine. Not my blood.” He knitted his brows together, and then shook his head again. “I need to know where you live. You don’t want the cops, but I can bet that someone heard you screaming and called them. And that piece of shit might wake up soon. I really don’t want to spend the night in jail.”
    For some God forsaken reason, his words sparked a memory.
    “Did you hear what he did to that guy? I heard they released him from prison early for good behavior.”
    I knew it