Rose's POV
For the past few weeks, sleep had become something I was afraid of. Closing my eyes was its own kind of torture. Some nights, Keith found me there, his face twisting through my dreams the way it used to twist in real life. Other nights, it was the hooded figure, standing still and silent at the edges of every dark corner my mind could conjure. Either way, rest had become something that happened to other people.
"I hate this," I muttered to myself, standing alone in the kitchen with a glass of water I had barely touched.
The room was dark, and I had not bothered to fix that. I just stood there in the quiet, wondering when any of this would get easier. Wondering if I would ever feel like the person I used to be before Keith got his hands on her and slowly turned her into someon
