4 Years Later

I groan rolling over to turn my alarm off. I wake up everyday at 5:00 AM. I quickly throw on my workout clothes opting for matching black shorts and sports bra. Looking in the mirror, I throw my brown hair up into a messy bun and head down stairs. Once my water bottle is filled and my shoes are on, I start jogging the 3 miles towards the nearest gym. Everyday I do this. Everyday is the same.

No else is out this early, so I don't mind the lack of clothes on my body other than the fact than the chill breeze that slaps on my bare arms. I pump them faster than normal while I run to warm myself up. Soon I'm breathing heavy and my body is burning from the extra exertion. As soon as my body starts begging for a break, I pull open the gym door and the smell of sweat and metal surrounds me. I make my way towards the back of the gym to my trainer, Mack.

Mack has been training me for the past two years. He has taught me how to defend myself from how to punch and kick to how to block attacks. My training sessions started out as part of my counseling recommended by my therapist, but it soon became a vital part of my day. I'm no longer a victim and no one will ever make me feel like one again. Mack has helped me be in control of my life. Well, him and my schedule.

I finish taping my knuckles and head into the ring where Mack is waiting for me. Without saying anything, he raises the targets in his hands signaling the beginning of our workout. The next hour is full of me punching, Mack correcting, and several water breaks. Once I'm satisfied with my progress, I take off my tape and gather my things.

"Thanks for today, Mack. I should be plenty sore tomorrow." Mack let's out a chuckle.

"Em, you are here everyday. I'm surprised your body hasn't shut down. You should really take a break."

I roll my eyes knowing that he's right and that I'm about to say will make his day. Heck, his whole week.

"Well now that you mention it, I will be taking two weeks off starting Sunday."

"Two weeks? Is everything okay?" His eyes are filled with concern as he takes a step towards me to look into my eyes.

"I'm fine, Mack" I try to give my best smile which I know looks more like a grimace.

"It's just that I'll be going on that trip that Ady had planned for our 21st birthday." I look down and blink away the tears that are threatening to spill. Mack gives me a knowing look before slowly bringing me into his arms.

Besides my parents, Mack is the only person that knows how hard these past four years have been. I guess you could call him my best friend if I allowed myself to really get close to him.

"Well, just be careful, Em." I roll my eyes at his overprotective self.

"Emilia, I mean it. Take care of yourself." He glances down at my wrist causing me to cross my arms over my body. I avoid his gaze and make my way towards the door.

"See you tomorrow" I mumble as I leave the gym. I start to jog back home at a much slower pace. I allow myself to enjoy the morning summer breeze.

When I get home, I gather up some clean clothes and head to the shower. I relax under the hot water letting it roll over my tense muscles. Once my muscles are loose, I turn the water off and towel myself off. I stop in front of the mirror staring at myself. If I turn my left wrist in, hiding the vertical scar on my forearm, I can pretend I'm looking at Ady. My light brown hair falls just past my shoulders. I look at my tanned face sprinkled with the same freckles she had. I stare into my green eyes knowing that if they had a bit more life in them they would match Ady's. I shutter at the thought that they look more like her eyes when I stared into them 4 years ago. Lifeless.

I can almost convince myself that it's Ady I'm looking at until I see the other ugly reminder that they are all gone. Going diagonal across the left side of my forehead is the scar from the gun that left me in a coma.

Disgusted with what I see, I throw my clothes on and head out of the house toward the bus stop. This is the closest thing to a car I've been in since the accident. It took a lot to get me where I am today. Even though I still face issues everyday, I know I've come a long way.

I hop on the bus heading to work. I've worked at the library for the past six months. It was another part of my counseling, but I really enjoy spending my time there. Not a lot of people use it, so the library is usually very quiet. It's a fairly simple job with just a bit of busywork so I don't mind it.

Ten minutes later, I'm sitting behind the reception desk waiting for the end of the day. The day went by fairly quickly. Before I know it, it's 4:30 pm. I only had to help two people and restock a handful of books. I manage to sneak out when my shifts over, so I don't have to talk to anyone. My coworkers are fine. I just don't like talking and getting to know people. Or rather them getting to know me.

When I'm finally home, I head to my room to mentally prepare myself for tonight's dinner. Tonight is the night I tell my parents that I'm going to New York on the trip that Ady and I had planned since we were 15. Two years before she left me.

I know that this conversation won't go well. I've been a recluse for four years with just this past year going out more. I have come up with arguments to any reason that might make me stay. I'm about to be 21, but that doesn't mean that I'm independent. I'm slowly getting there, but I still have a ways to go. Mentally anyways.

"Emilia, supper's ready!" I hear my mom yelling from the kitchen. I go downstairs and make my way to the dining room. The table is set and my parents are already starting their meal. Without even sitting down, I blurt out "I'm leaving Sunday."

Geez, Emilia. That's all you could say? I silently curse myself as my parents stare at me dumbfounded with their mouths open.

"I mean, I'm going on that trip. The one to New York. I'll be leaving Sunday. I'll be gone for two weeks and I already have everything planned out."

I stare down at my plate waiting for one of them to say something. My father clears his throat staring at my mother.

"Oh that's good, honey" my mother smiles at me. This is the first smile I've seen on her face in years. I'm completely shocked and apparently my dad is too.

"Anna, what are you thinking? She can't do this. She is just now able to go outside without panic attacks. What do you think will happen in New York?" He's basically yelling by the end of his rant. I can't blame him for thinking that I can't do this, but I know I'm stronger than I have been.

"I'm still sitting here, in case you forgot. I'll be leaving Sunday and that's final." I storm out of the dining room and to my room. I rarely show my emotions anymore so I know they won't say anything else about it. I don't need them to believe in me. I just need them to let me heal.

I put on my pajamas and climb into bed. I pull the picture off my nightstand and admire it. I look beautiful here. I'm smiling and laughing and being held by a gorgeous man. Luke. The love of my life.

His curls drape down his forehead almost covering his beautiful brown eyes. I've always loved his eyes. They change colors based on his emotions from a sparkling brown when he's happy to a dark deep brown when he's not. Not only did he have beautiful eyes, his skin is a nice caramel color that just makes any color he was wearing pop. He still is the most handsome man I've ever seen.

"Goodnight,Luke. I love you, forever and always."

I kiss the picture and place it back before I fall into another dreamless sleep.