Chapter 3 Rising Tide

Josephine fidgeted with a frayed tassel on her cardigan as she waited amid sterile booked shelves and scattered magazines, unrelenting in cheerful positivity. CLINING DIY PROJECTS, LAUGH YOUR WAY TO BETTER HEALTH and HOW TRAUMA SHAPES US vied with more sombre CHILDHOOD ABUSE: BREAKING THE CYCLE and COPING WITH DEPRESSION for attention she couldn't muster.

Taking deep, measured breaths, she tried clearing a steady path through swirling thoughts. Walls seemed closer than the waiting area's edges, air thinner than within woodlands' restorative shade. Here was no comfort to be found, only ghosts resurrected from depths long avoided.

"Josephine, the therapist will see you now." She sprang up too hastily, head swimming as blood rushed deafeningly. Clutching the receptionist's desk till white knuckled calmed thundering pulses moments before following down a narrow hallway extending endlessly.

Stopping at an innocuous green door, she paused, summoning every scrap of courage just to turn the handle. What lay ahead seemed an ordeal beyond facing, and it took all vestiges of stubborn will just set foot past that simple portal separating her from suppressed fragments rising once more to break her like before. But some poisons needed purging if healing stood any hope, so steeling herself with one final breath, she stepped into Pandora's box resolute to reclaim shattered pieces of herself.

A willowy woman rose from behind a neat oak desk, extending a hand patched lightly with age spots yet gifted in its firm, grounding grasp.

"Josephine, I'm Amanda. Please, have a seat - you're quite safe here." Her lilting tone soothed frazzled nerves like balm.

Settling into a well-worn sofa, Josephine regarded details surrounding her - photographs of grandchildren smiling atop cabinets, vintage books crowding shelves housing wisdom rather than trinkets. This space breathed reassurance.

At Amanda's prompt, dredged up pains seared her throat raw as shadows long fended off crept from blind alleys of memory into harsh relief. Knots swollen with tears threatened to choke off words scrabbling free:

"It started small, yelling over minor things. His temper was like flint - one wrong move and sparks flew. I learned to tread carefully, but it wasn't enough...the beatings got worse, more frequent. By twelve, I thought it's normal to wake sore and frightened..." Her voice trailed off amid private tortures resurfacing with a visceral vengeance, lacerated wounds stripped bare once more under clinical light yet somehow beginning, finally, to see day. Josephine emerged into stark sunlight feeling hollowed, scraped raw yet oddly lighter sans poison carried since infancy. Amanda's steady presence proved balm enough that first session to begin suturing wounds festered too long untreated.

Yet shadows remained fringed by clarity as each blow, each sneered insult, replayed with acute specificity in a relentlessly vivid loop. She wandered streets aimlessly, bruised past echoing afresh as she scanned faces for phantoms now solidified from ambiguities' swarm.

Doubt wormed deep within - could she ever trust fully again after so long conditioned otherwise? Each caress held potential to sting like the one dealt next, each gentle word masked barbs in waiting, each fragile bond tomorrow's bruise applied tonight before affection's mask slipped wholly away.

Physically unmarried skin hid psychological tattoos scoured too deep for simple liniments to purge entirely. Each reopened laceration dripped salt into open sores, carving grooves heralding future storms shelter could scarce keep at bay., Josephine lay awake nights replaying traumas afresh until tears dried upon flushed skin, leaving her fevered and parched come mornings grey and cheerless.

Fear gnawed persistently - that no embrace could shield permanently from life's wrath, no hearth remains inviolable against past wrongs' return. Each shadowed corner spawned imaginings too real to dismiss, phantoms crouched ready to pounce from every angle she turned, vigilant, restless.

Loneliness clutched tighter with each grey dawn. Doubt's whispers poisoned hopes for sunlight's return, painting bleakest scenarios where no balm proved antidote to lacerations etched so deeply even years scarce smoothed rawest edges.

In such bleakest hours, she found solace pouring turmoil onto pages absorbing inky confessions like loyal friends who asked no treacherous questions in return. Exorcising blackest memories proved catharsis enough those dark nights that thoughts strayed too readily to bleakest desperations if dawn dragged its heels too long.,, One memory clung tenaciously through ensuing nights' fitful tosses - an elliptical discussion circling an elusive, blurred jigsaw's missing centrepiece.

Amanda probed gently as Josephine skirted uneasily around a shrouded recollection surfacing piecemeal through therapy's sieve. Fragments emerged blurrily: a cellar's dank musk, her father's looming shadow, a slicing pain between small legs, muffled tears into musty darkness swallowing her vivisection alive...

Fragment by fragment clicks fell into a terrible place, revealing long buried memory's scarring heart. The jigsaw centred now, clarity struck her marrow like lightning. Josephine reeled raw from new violation laid bare at recollection's mercy, another soul murder adding twisted lines to a tortured psyche's fractal map.

Horror shook her being to the core as comprehension dawned - all these years, that nightmarish incident had festered mutely beneath consciousness' surface. Raw wounds left to fester in solitude's swamp now flooded her anew, a third betrayal compounding compound fractures to selfhood's foundation. She retched bile tasting of desecration, assaulted by recall's almighty force after so long evading death by inches, repairing cracks without naming violation's architect until now..,,

Hours passed in a blur as revelations rent Josephine open yet stronger arms remained just out of reach. On impulse she called Robert, craving comfort amid unravelling seams even their bond could no longer offer yet still desperately needed.

Small talk picked at barely healed scabs, questions lingered unasked yet answered between stilted pleasantries. Her ragged vulnerability met his stony reserve, affection mutated into something too alien for solace. Hanging up only deepened the crushing isolation engulfing her like quicksand since violation's naming.

Retreating within proved the sole panacea as outer walls crumbled. There through tears' constant flow clarity dawned - only by sinking deeper into torment's currents to wrestle blackest demons could she emerge whole, having exorcised ghosts which haunted her since stolen innocence. Forgiving darkness its lessons, learning self-compassion's strength to weather future trials: these lay the sole routes past this labyrinth's depths toward light glimpse beyond shattered fragments' borders. Tomorrow another step awaited - but tonight, she wept purification and clung to dawn's resilient promise of rebirth from ruins' rich soil, where even monsters nourish resilience in the broken if embraced as teachers rather than masters of destiny. The worst lay behind; only repair's steady trajectory remained.