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Sometimes, Erin insists that she’s not affected by what happened on that fucking island. After all, she’s doing well. She and Jamie live together, and she has a new job, and she hasn’t had a panic attack in weeks.
And then the power goes out, and everything comes crashing down around her.
Erin is in the bathroom one evening, washing her hands after using the toilet, when the lights go out, plunging her into total darkness. And before Erin can use the breathing techniques she learned or sing her Don’t Be Scared song or just calmly approach the door and unlock it, a wave of terror washes over her.
And it’s like she’s back in the hotel, trapped in that dusty room, pounding on the door and screaming for her friends, terrified for her life. She can almost taste the dust on her tongue and hear Du’Met’s footsteps as he approaches, her inhaler held in his outstretched hand.
“Erin?” Jamie calls, knocking on the door. “Are you okay in there? It’s a fucking power outage.”
“I…” Erin gasps, too breathless to speak.
“Shit…” Jamie says. “Can you open the door? Or should I break it down?”
Erin almost laughs at how it sounds like Jamie wants to break the door down. Her girlfriend is so adorably protective like that.
Her chest getting tighter, Erin fumbles across the bathroom, reaching out for the door. She needs her inhaler. As she feels Du’Met’s hands pinning her to the wall, hears the snip of the knife slicing her hair, Erin’s head swims, her lungs refusing to take in enough air. But finally, she gets the door unlocked, opening it to reveal Jamie on the other side of the door, her phone casting a light from one hand, and Erin’s inhaler in the other.
When Erin drops to her knees, lunging for the inhaler, Jamie kneels at her side, helping Erin lean forwards into a position that eases her breathing, and gently rubbing her back.
“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” Jamie says as Erin takes a puff on her inhaler. “I’ve got you.”
“I…” Erin chokes out, relieved when she feels some of the pressure in her chest ease, the drugs starting to work. “I felt like… I was back there…”
“I know,” Jamie says, obviously knowing exactly what set Erin off. “But you’re not. You’re with me in our apartment and that motherfucker’s never gonna hurt you again.”
“I-I know. I just…” Erin lets out a shaky sigh.
Jamie presses a kiss to her clammy cheek. “I get it. Trauma’s a bitch, huh?”
Despite her fear and fatigue, Erin snorts with laughter. “Y-Yeah. A total bitch.”
“I need to go check the fuse box,” Jamie says. “Wanna come with?”
Erin doesn’t feel like moving, but she feels like sitting alone in the dark even less. So, she nods and lets Jamie take her hand, comforted by her girlfriend’s presence in the darkness.