She awoke with a scream lodged in her throat. She always did. The scream could never be let out, because Johnny wanted that. He wanted her to scream.
Her head in her hands, she whispered the litany she told herself whenever she had this nightmare.
You’re free. You’re here. He’s gone. He’s not going to hurt you anymore.
If only that were true.
Callie followed her into the bathroom. Rose washed her face and considered taking a shower, but decided she’d rather sit and watch Bob Ross to soothe herself.
It was ridiculous, but she loved Bob Ross’s voice, his happy little trees. Only joy could be found in his paintings, those hotel paintings of landscapes. Rose sometimes considered taking up painting, but she had a feeling her paintings wouldn’t be full of happy little trees.
They’d be full
