Morning was streaming through the window, and I was thinking of Lucky. I remembered when we were in New York together only a couple of months before, looking at my art school. Lucky wanted me to go there almost more than I did it seemed. I'd never had anyone be so sure that I could do something so well, including myself. Not me, not Elizabeth Webber. Not until Lucky, with his bright blue eyes and his soft voice and his tousled hair and his love. Oh, his love.
I remembered that I was standing at the window in our hotel room, looking out at the city and the life bustling below us. It had all seemed so far away; the world then was really only Lucky and me alone together. No one else existed but the two of us. Lucky was still talking about everyday things like food and carriage rides and the art school, but he didn't know that I wasn't even thinking of those things. I was only thinking of him, and how I loved him so much, and how I'd been feeling the last few days, knowing that I wanted him, that I was ready for him. But it wasn't easy; I was not a normal girl who could just know something like that and act upon it. Even though I loved him more than my very own life, I had to think about it. I had to turn it over and over in my mind…was I ready? Was the dark monster of my past at last destroyed? I had thought so. Oh yes, I had thought so all right. As I took Lucky in my arms and kissed him, I knew that I was free from all of the shadows, that my future was here and now, solid and warm and real. And safe. Above all, when I was with Lucky I was safe.
I buried my face in the blankets, unable to control the sobs that pushed their way from my throat. I knew the truth now. There was no safety in this world.
Lucky was lying against the back of the couch at his mother's house. When he and Luke left Elizabeth's room he told Luke he wanted to see his mother. He wanted to be the one to tell her about Elizabeth in case she hadn't already heard. He went there but did not find her at home. He wandered around the house for awhile, not knowing what to do with himself, sick with worry and completely exhausted from not sleeping for the past few days. Finally he slumped onto the couch and leaned his head against the back and finally fell asleep. But his sleep was fitful, dreams of Elizabeth clouding his subconscious. He awoke in a cold sweat sometime later and looked at the clock. It was only 8:00 a.m. and the sun was coming up.
He wondered where Elizabeth was, wondered if she could see the sun. He was still groggy and his thoughts wandered to the night they had spent in New York City. He remembered how they had walked around the city, eating and laughing and making plans for the future, but his thoughts were on something else. Before they had left Port Charles he thought that they might finally make love that night. He thought they were both ready for it and he remembered being nervous, thinking of being with her that way, wanting her so badly, and wondering if she felt the same. He remembered that he had nearly lost his nerve about approaching the subject when he had turned to get the blankets to make up his bed on the floor. And he remembered his shock and surprise when she grabbed his hand and pulled him to her to kiss him. A kiss that told him that she was ready, that she had been thinking the same thing.
They began to make love, but soon realized that the time wasn't right, that their first time could not be in a hotel room in New York City. He remembered lying beside her, holding her, barely able to breathe from wanting her but feeling relieved, yet disappointed, that it was not to be that night.
He dozed off again, thinking about Elizabeth and how happy they were that night and praying that they would have another chance to be together the way they both wanted. He awoke with a start and saw Laura standing over him calling his name. He looked at her with tears in his eyes. "Mom..."
"Lucky? What's wrong?"
I sat up slowly because my head still hurt so badly. I sniffled and wiped my eyes and nose and looked around me, as if anything would have changed since I'd been in here. Carefully I got to me feet, unsure if my legs would even hold me up. They shook, but I did not fall, and I began to make my way unsteadily towards the door at the other end of the room. I knew instinctively that the one he had brought me through would be locked so I didn't even bother.
I tried the knob and found myself in a small bathroom with a not very clean shower and toilet, which I used after locking the door behind me. Nothing else was in there except a roll of toilet paper and a bar of soap. At the sink afterwards I looked into the mirror and my heart sank. With trembling fingers I reached up and lightly touched the matted blood and hair above my right temple. The blow had split the skin and dried blood was crusted around my ear and down my cheek and neck; the bruise crept from my temple to my cheekbone, dark and savage. I remembered looking in the mirror after he had raped me, at my cuts and bruises, but most of all I remembered my eyes. Then they had been hollow and empty, yet at the same time filled with complete and utter devastation. I looked into them now, and I shuddered at what I saw. They were the eyes of a girl who had had the future stolen from her, who had once beaten back the darkness only to have it enshroud her again, this time more completely than ever before. This time there would be no way out, no Lucky to pick me up and lead me back to the light. They were the eyes of a girl who had lost.
Sickened, I turned away and began to remove the T-shirt and pajama bottoms I'd been wearing for how long now, moving carefully because of the cuts on my hands. I should have known that showers didn't fix things, but I had washed the filth of him from me before, and now I would do it again. It was a different kind of filth, but still him all the same. His hands, his looks, his voice, his smell...all of these had touched me and marked me, and like before I would do anything I could to get them off of me, even though I knew there would be more of him...so much more that I could not even allow myself to think about.
I felt weak and insubstantial as I turned on the water scalding hot and stepped into it with a wince, clutching the bar of soap in my hand. To be clean. For a moment I only stood there, letting the steaming water pour over me, my eyes closed. In the darkness behind my lids I could see his face and his leering grin looming before me; startled, I opened my eyes and stared numbly at the soap in my hands.
"I won't think of him right now, I won't. Lucky. I want to think of Lucky. Think of something good, Liz. Something good..."
***
We were sitting in Gram's living room watching a movie four days before when the doorbell rang. I got up slowly and answered it, unwilling to leave the warmth of Lucky's side.
"What is it, Elizabeth?" He asked from the couch as I thanked the postman and turned to him, gripping the huge package in my hands so tightly that my fingers hurt. My stomach had bottomed out and my palms were sweaty; I nearly choked on my heart as I answered him, my voice faltering.
"I think...I think it's my stuff from the art school."
"Hey!" He jumped up, a huge grin on his face, his eyes sparkling the way I loved so much. He bounded over to where I stood on the landing, dazed and frightened. "Come on, aren't you going to open it?" He looked at me then put his hands on my shoulders and peered into my eyes. "Elizabeth, are you okay?"
I tried to smile but didn't quite make it. "I guess I'm...I'm more nervous than I thought. Lucky, what if I didn't get in? What if there's a rejection letter in here?"
"There won't be. But how are you going to know if you don't open it?"
"I can't. You do it." I tried to thrust the package at him but he pushed it gently back to me.
"Elizabeth..." He lifted an eyebrow and tried to look stern; failing that, he placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. "It's okay, just open it," he whispered.
I walked past him and sat down on the sofa, the box between my knees. Lucky came to sit beside me and waited quietly as my unsteady hands pried the lid open. I reached in and pulled out my paintings slowly one by one. They were either my ticket to a dream life or a symbol of my failure, and I could barely look at them. At last they were all out and nothing was left inside except for an envelope at the very bottom. I sat still. Lucky nudged me with his elbow.
"Okay okay." I lifted it out and held it before me. Never in my life had such a small thing meant so much, or held so much inside of it. I glanced at Lucky and he nodded.
"Just do it."
I tore into it quickly, suddenly wanting nothing more than to get it over with. I stared at the letter, my hands shaking so badly by now that I could barely read it. Once I was done it slipped from my fingers and fluttered to the floor.
"Oh God." Lucky bent to pick it up. There was a pause and then his joyous shout filled the entire room. "You're in! Elizabeth, you're in!" He hugged me tightly but I was still only sitting there, gazing blankly into space. He pulled away. "What's the matter? You're in, Elizabeth. The school, New York...it's real! It's ours!
"I know, I just...I can't believe it. I've been worrying and hoping and praying for so long..." My voice faltered and I dropped my face into my hands.
"Oh sweetheart." His arms were around my shoulders. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." I lifted my head and looked at him, grinning through my tears. "I'm just so happy and relieved and I love you so much." I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him full on the lips.
"Want to celebrate?" He asked after a moment.
"Uh huh."
He smiled and brushed the happy tears from my cheeks with the side of his hand. "What do you want to do?"
"Start shopping for our apartment?"
"And how about some new art supplies?"
"Okay!" I took his hands and stood up, pulling him to me. As our lips met once again, I wondered how I had ever lived a moment without him, and how my life had suddenly become so perfect.
***
I was crying again as I turned off the shower, and only then did I realize there were no towels. I picked up my T-shirt from the floor and dried off with it as best I could, then pulled it over my head and put on the rest of my clothes, hardly caring that they weren't clean, or that my hair was sopping wet. Trying to catch my breath, I passed the mirror without even looking into it; I just wanted to go lie down and lose myself in sleep. I opened the bathroom door and gasped when I saw him standing before me.
"Feel better?"
"Mom, sit down."
"Lucky, I've never seen you look so upset. What's happened?"
"It's Elizabeth. I didn't want you to hear it from someone else. Tom Baker got out of jail two days ago. He kidnapped Elizabeth."
"What?"
"He went through her bedroom window and took her. She was alone that night; Audrey was away. When Elizabeth didn't show up at school two days ago, I went over there when I got out to see if she was okay. I had to go through the window myself when she didn't answer the door. Mom, there was blood all over her room."
"Lucky, my God. My God. Poor Elizabeth. Have they gotten any clues as to where he's taken her?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. Detective Taggert is working really hard though. You know, he always liked Elizabeth. I'll never forget how he treated her after she was raped. He was always really gentle with her."
"I know, I remember, and it's good that he's working on it. He'll find her, Lucky. I know he will." She put her hand on his face. "Are you all right? You look like you haven't slept."
"I did, a little. The hardest part is not being able to do anything. Mom, I don't even know if she's still alive. God, I can't bear to think of what he could be doing to her. And I can't forgive myself for not staying with her that night. "
"Lucky, you can't blame yourself. How could you have known? And we just have to believe that she's okay. She's a very strong girl, you know."
He nodded and stood up, pacing the room. "But she doesn't know it, Mom. Do you know she was accepted to art school?
Laura smiled. "Lucky, that's wonderful."
"She found out just a few days ago. I was with her when she got the letter. She was so happy, we were so happy. Our future was set, Mom. We were going to move to Manhattan and be together always." He stopped and rubbed his eyes, trying to stop the constant threat of tears. He looked at Laura and said, "She was afraid to open the letter you know; see, she still doesn't trust her own abilities"
Laura got up and went to him, putting her hands on his face. "Lucky, you're the one who helped her get strong. She'll think of you and that's what will get her through this. She'll feel your love."
"Is that how it was with you and Dad?"
She smiled, wistfully, remembering how thoughts of Luke had always helped her through difficult times. "Yes, Lucky, that's how it was with us."
"Mom, I just want to find her."
"I know, honey, I know." She pulled him close, knowing that there was really no comforting him now, not until Elizabeth was safely back home with him.
"I see you decided to clean yourself up for me," he said with a grin.
"Leave me alone."
He was at my side in a second, pinching my arm in his powerful grip. "Don't you talk to me like that," he hissed. "You always did think you were some hot shot little bitch, didn't you? Remember when you came to talk to me in jail? You thought you were so strong and you thought you'd show me. But I made you run out of that room like the frightened little rabbit you really are."
I didn't think, I just lashed out at him, my fist smacking him just below his right eye. He stiffened in anger and spun me around, shoving me down onto the pile of blankets, his heavy body on top of me, my face muffled in the cloth so that I could not breathe. This is it, I'm going to die, I thought as my lungs spasmed with emptiness and stars began to form behind my eyes. But then he was turning me over, his hands tugging at my pajama bottoms, and the reality of what he was about to do struck me harder that the handle of his knife..
You're not really surprised are you? some tiny, distant part of my brain asked. You knew it was inevitable didn't you? Did you really think he would take you and not rape you again? He did it once when he didn't even know who you were; now he knows and he hates you and he has you and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it. I know you want to scream, I know you want to hit and kick and fight him, but don't, Elizabeth. You're not strong enough and it will only make him angry and he'll hurt you even more and it won't make him stop and it won't make him not do it again. Just lie here and be quiet and let him do it and maybe when he's done he'll go away and at least leave you alone for a little while.
"God dammit!"
I came back to myself suddenly and realized that he was backing away from me and zipping up his pants, so enraged that his face was full of dark purple blood and his eyes were nearly bugging out of his head. He got to his feet and stumbled from the room, slamming the door behind him so hard that the walls shook. I lay there blinking in total amazement and shock, too dazed for a moment to even move. He hadn't done it; most importantly, he hadn't been able to do it.
I clapped my hand over my mouth as a sudden urge to laugh aloud bubbled up inside of me so that I was nearly breathless as I pulled my underwear and pajamas back on. I felt as though chains were dropping away from me, and I giggled at the sensation of freedom, at the lifting of the darkness. He had no more power over me; he was nothing more than a big bully who got his strength and sense of power from hurting women. But not me. Not me anymore. He had hurt me once more than anyone ever had; he had changed my entire life, he had changed my personality. But I knew that he would never be able to do anything to me again. Maybe he would hurt me physically some more, maybe he would even kill me, but I no longer felt any fear.
I looked up when he stormed back into the room and strode over to me, pulling me to my feet in one fluid motion and dragging me into the other room, and I fought the urge to laugh in his face the whole time. Instead of seeming the menacing dictator of my subconscious, or the storybook monster with the power to kill happiness and destroy dreams in a single blow, he was nothing.
He slammed me down into a chair and began to tie my arms behind me with a rope. I could feel the words crowding in my throat, words begging for release, words that would probably kill me, but I no longer cared.
"What's the matter, Tom, didn't your mother love you when you were a little boy? Didn't anyone love you? I guess not, and that's why you're such a big, stupid nothing who's so mad at the world that the only way he can make himself feel like he's worth anything is to hurt people. But you're not, you're not worth anything, not a single thing, and you can't even--"
"Shutup!"
The back of his hand caught me across the mouth, snapping my head to the side and sending shooting pain throughout my entire upper body. I could taste blood, could feel it dripping down my chin, but I was hot and burning with triumph as I looked up at him from beneath my hair and smiled at him anyway.
"You think you're going to destroy me, don't you? You think you can control me but you can't anymore. I know your secrets. And I've known more love and beauty in the past year than you'll ever know in your entire, pathetic, miserable life!"
"Oh yes, let's talk about that, shall we?" He said, kneeling down before me. "Your love. What's his name...Lucky? Kind of ironic really." He reached into his belt and held the knife up before me so that I could see its tip, gleaming and sharp. "He loves you doesn't he? More than life itself, I'll bet. I watched you that night. I saw him kiss you when he climbed out of your window, and I saw that dreamy look you had on your face as you watched him leave. Just about broke my heart, it was so sweet. I almost hate to do what I'm going to do, but some things just need to be done." He paused and seemed to be waiting for me to say something, and when I only glared at him he shrugged and continued. "So your boyfriend, Lucky, he really loves you, right? He'd do just about anything for you wouldn't he? He wouldn't give a damn for his own safety, only yours. As long as you're safe, he's happy. It must be driving him crazy not knowing where you are or what's happening to you. He's a smart boy, I bet he's figured out who has you too. Now that's really got to be killing him. Can't you just imagine what he's going through?"
Unfortunately I could, and my happiness drained away as suddenly as it had appeared, only to be replaced by a pain so intense I could almost feel my heart contract.
"Well, not to worry, you'll be seeing your precious Lucky a lot sooner than you think."
"What the hell do you mean by that?" I spat, an alarm going off in my brain.
"Lucky doesn't know it yet, but he's going to come here to save you. And when he does...well, I haven't quite decided. Kill you in front of him, then kill him, or the other way around? Which one of you wants to watch the other die a terrible, horrible, bloody death before doing so yourself?"
"You're just bluffing," I murmured fiercely, despite the queasy tendril of fear curling its way through my stomach. "You're just trying to scare me."
He leaned forward and looked into my eyes. "Am I really?"