"If you fall out of the tree, I'm going to be forced to laugh at you. I'm telling you, I'm just gonna have to do it." I stop jumping for a couple seconds just to tell him that. When we were younger, we used to play circus outside on is trampoline and he used to be the "trapeze" artist that hung off the tree branch that hangs over the trampoline and he's doing that again. Over the years, Shane's gotten heavier and the tree branch has gotten weaker so I wouldn't be surprised if he falls down. "I'm not even going to have an option. It's gonna be like… a must or something. I'm going to HAVE to laugh at you." I continue jumping on the trampoline, waiting to get enough height to turn a backflip on it. I taught myself how to flip on the trampoline back when I was young with a whole lot of energy and fearless. I was never thin enough to do one on the ground, though.
"I'm not gonna fall out of the tree." He's hanging upside down by his feet. "So I was thinking… wanna hear what I was thinking?" He pulls himself upright and jumps down back onto the trampoline. He sits down at the far end of it with his legs crossed Indian-style. I just ignore him and turn my first backflip. It's never a good thing when Shane starts thinking. Usually when he's thinking, it ends with me getting hurt or in some type of compromising position that gets me into trouble. Plus, it doesn't matter if I answer him or not; he's gonna tell me what he's thinking anyway. "I was thinking that when you leave tonight, maybe my mom can tell your foster family that you can come here every weekend. I know it's not a permanent solution, but it's something… isn't it?"
"I thought I told you that I didn't want to talk about leaving today?" I stop turning backflips and sit down across from him on the trampoline. "If you want me to be honest with you, I would've never came here if I knew your mom was just gonna call them to come get me." I flop back and lie flat against my back on the trampoline, looking up at the sky. It's unusually clear for a fall, Seattle day. It'll probably rain a little later. I seriously don't even want to think about the Myers' coming to get me later, so I change the subject. "You ever wonder how much bleach you have to just chug for it to kill you?" I squint my eyes and try to find pictures in the clouds. "You think it'd work if you mixed Kool-Aid packets and sugar with it?"
"…Well I'm still thinking that it'd taste pretty terrible." He crawls over to the spot on the trampoline that I'm lying down on and lies down next to me. "I know you don't want to talk about J, but we kind of have to. I know we've been kind of like… drifting apart ever since this school year started… because we're in two totally different crowds anymore, but you're still my best friend and I still miss you. And I miss this, too. Don't you?"
"Of course I miss this, Shane. I miss everything." I sit up and just look at him. "I miss my freaking life. But I don't want to keep coming over here and teasing myself with the life I used to have. It still bugs me that I can look out your bathroom window and see the house I used to live in. It bugs me how I can just drive across town and be in a totally different school district. Of course I miss this. But what can I do about it? I lost the right to feel any type of way about anything, because I don't have a choice in anything anymore. Why would I want to tease myself with all the things I miss? I would've never came over here if I thought you guys were just gonna send me back." I nonchalantly crack my knuckles and wrinkle my eyebrows. "Would it be melodramatic if I said I'd rather die than go back to my foster home?"
"…A little bit, yeah." He sits up too. "I just think you're overreacting a little bit. If the only reason you don't want to go back is because you don't want to go to Franklin, then you're being overly dramatic about it. It's not like you're a bullied mess at Franklin. After what you did to the fat chick, I tend to think that everyone would leave you alone… don't you think?"
"Just because I beat the girl up doesn't mean that I'm not a victim, Shane. They call me a whore, a bitch, a slut… tell me I'm fat, tell me I'm ugly. They still pick on me. And it's so much different than Garfield. Nobody even gave me a chance from the start." I push my hair back and sigh. "Plus, it's a lot more complicated than that. While I'd rather hug a cactus than go back to Franklin, that's definitely not the only reason I don't want to go back to the Myers. There's way more to it than that."
"Okay seriously, Jo… how long do you expect me to feed into your bullshit?" He glares at me with his angry eyes and purses his lips. "You have my mom fooled, but have you ever been able to lie to me? I'm just saying… if you're gonna lie about it, stop dropping hints like you want me to point out the fact that you're lying through your teeth."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about the fact that I saw the video of the fight and the girl NEVER got a hit in. She kicked you, but she never got a hit in your face. You didn't let her get a hit in." He offers his hand for me to hold it but I don't take it. "And also about the fact that you can't even look me in the eye and tell me that your foster mom didn't hit you at least once. Quit lying to me. Franklin has nothing to do with the fact that you don't want to go back and you know it. Lie to my mom, lie to yourself all you want. But you're not gonna lie to me, Jo."
I reach out and grab firmly onto his chin. I look him square in his eyes. "Except for the fact that I'm NOT lying. Paula never hit me. I'm looking you in your eyes and telling you that she never hit me. So drop it…okay?"
"Well somebody did." He swats my hand away from his face and rubs the bridge of his nose. "I hate to go here, but did… did Alex? Because your face was NOT like this when I saw you at the game on Friday. It's Monday and BAM, you have a black eye and a busted lip? And bruises on your neck and back? Somebody hit you. And if you're gonna insist that it wasn't your foster mom, then who?"
"Don't ever…" I shake my head at him and decide how to approach the fact that he just pissed me off. "Alex would NEVER hit me, Shane. Don't ever imply that again. If you value our friendship… you'll never do that again. Don't ever…"
"Well I didn't think that he would, but you never know. If it wasn't your foster mom, then I'm just taking a wild guess here. Just tell me how you messed your face up… will you at least tell me that? Or will you please tell me about the bruises on your back? I won't tell anybody about it… I just need to know. You're supposed to me my best friend but you're lying to me…"
"I'm not lying, Shane. I'm just not telling you. There's a difference. I can't tell you, so please leave it at that?"
"Since when can you not tell me something, J? Since when? I tell you everything. I even told you about that time I got my… you know… stuck in that… you know. If I can tell you that, then you can tell me anything. No matter how embarrassing it is. Did you get the bruises from doing something in an inappropriate place?" He puts his hand on my knee. "Leah has a bruise in the middle of her back from us doing it in the backseat of her brother's car… I'm just saying."
"No." I tuck my hair behind my ear and draw my tongue to the split in the middle of my bottom lip. "I love you, Shane. I love you and you're my best friend in the entire world… which is WHY I can't tell you." I clear my throat. "I care about what you think of me. I mean, I told Alex, yeah… actually, I didn't even tell him. He just put two and two together, really. But anyway, I care about how you perceive me. I care if you think I'm nasty, dirty… anything like that. I don't care about anyone else, but I care about what you think. So please just let this go."
"So you think I'm gonna judge you? What'd you do, have sex with the whole football team? I know you didn't do that, and that's the ONLY thing that could make me think any less of you. If you went out and slept with the whole football team PLUS the basketball team, then I'd think you're a skank. I know you didn't do that. So I'm not judging. But I am begging. I want to know what happened."
"…I know you have secrets that you've kept from me, Shane. I know you do. Haven't you ever…" I sigh again. "Haven't you ever been so ashamed of something that you just don't want to talk about it? Haven't you ever been so far to blame for something bad that happened that you don't even want to admit it? It's kind of like that. I'm not gonna tell you, so just stop."
"You don't have to be embarrassed to tell me, though! Embarrassed, ashamed… I don't care. And whatever you did can't possibly be that much of your fault. I don't care if you assassinated someone, that still doesn't warrant you to be beat to hell like that. Your face is all messed up, your neck is all bruised, your back is all bruised. It looks like someone kicked you down three flights of steps. Are you ashamed because you got beaten up? Guess what, it happens!"
"It's not that! Just drop it. I'm not ready to talk about it. Not with you, not with ANYONE. I wouldn't even talk to Alex about it. Yeah, he knows… but it's not like I sat down and told him everything. I DON'T want to talk about it, that's the thing. You think that I'm not talking about it because I'm ashamed, which is kind of true but I also don't WANT to talk about it. It sucked, it happened, I LET it happen, I deserved it and I'm moving on. So please let me move on."
"…You know what?" He pinches the bridge of his nose again and sighs. "Every time I start to admire you… for being grown up… for being mature… you go ahead and prove to me that I shouldn't. I used to think you were the most mature person I knew… but you really need to grow up anymore, J. You need to grow up and suck everything up. Yeah, life's been shitty for you these past couple weeks, but life gets shitty sometimes. Life gets shitty and that's just the way it is. And you think that shutting the people that care about you completely out is the way to deal with things, but you're wrong. All you're doing is hurting yourself in the end." He stands up and walks to the exit zipper of the trampoline. "And if you want to hurt yourself, fine. But I'm not just gonna sit around and let you treat me like shit when all I'm trying to do is help you. All we're trying to do is help you and you won't let anybody. So you know what? I don't care anymore. Do whatever you want." He unzips the trampoline zipper and puts one foot out to step down onto the ladder. "Who even are you, anymore? It's like I don't even know you anymore. They say death changes people… but I never thought it'd change you."
"Wait, Shane!" You really don't need to lose him. I know you don't really want to talk to him about it, but he's mad at you. He's angry with you and he's about to leave and maybe it won't hurt if you told him… But I just really don't want to talk about it anymore. I'm so ashamed of myself… but at this point, what choice do I have? My brain is so full and my head is just so mixed up. If I tell him, he's going to judge me. But if I don't tell him, I risk losing him. Does it even matter anymore? I mean seriously, what's the use? My head is just going to implode. "…I wanna show you something, okay? But you have to promise me that you won't ask questions." My eyes suddenly get all warm and I feel tears coming on. "Promise me you won't ask questions and you'll just listen. Because I REALLY don't want to talk about it."
He zips the trampoline netting back up, walks back over towards me and flops back down next to me. "I'm just saying… you never keep secrets from me. You always tell me everything and you've never been worried about me judging you before. What makes now any different? That's all I'm saying. If… if I came to you with a black eye, you would want to know how I got it. And you'd go crazy if I wouldn't tell you. I just want to know what's wrong with you, because you're NOT okay, Jo. I know you're not okay."
"No questions…okay? No questions. Just let me… let me explain." I bite my bottom lip and grit my teeth together. I lift up my heavy hair and push it to the side, exposing the bruise on my neck. "I lied to you…" His eyes are just glued to the nasty, purple bruise on the base of my neck, from Jason choking me. "When I told you that I just pecked my foster brother, by 'peck', I meant I really…hardcore made out with him." I swallow a lump in my throat and let my hair back down once I'm sure he got a good enough look at the bruise. I grab the rim of my shirt and pull it up over my head so that I'm sitting in front of him in nothing but my bra. His jaw drops at the sight of all the nastiness that is my back. Bruises, scratches, indentations, red marks… my back is the worst. "I let him touch me. I let him… feel me up." My voice is coming out a little lower than I'd like, but I don't even bother to adjust it. "It took me a while to realize that I hated it and then I stopped him. But like I said… I don't know WHAT it was… about the kiss that made him go crazy. For the rest of that week, he would… touch me, smack me on my ass, tell me that I'm… sexy and stuff. All from that kiss." I wince a little bit as Shane reaches his hand out and touches the harshest bruise on my back. "On Friday… right after the game, I snuck back out to go see Alex and like I told you, Alex broke up with me. So I came home and I was really upset, so I just went straight to bed."
Talking about it really feels similar to cutting. Not as good as cutting feels, but almost a sweet alternative. Like I'm releasing myself just by telling someone I trust. I guess I'm glad it's Shane… I curl my legs up into my chest and put my forehead against my knees so he doesn't have to see my face when I explain to him what REALLY happened. "I was about to fall asleep… but my foster brother… J…Jason, he came in my room." My stomach just twists and turns into a big, giant knot. "I swear I told him no. I swear to God I told him that I didn't want to. Even though I kissed him and made the first move on him that day we kissed on the couch, it doesn't mean that I wanted it… you know?" I choke back a little bit of vomit. "I didn't like it. And I begged him the entire time not to. I asked him to stop, to leave me alone, to just… spare me, or something. But it seemed like… it seemed like the more I cried, the more he got off on it… like my tears turned him on or something." I pick my head up out of my knees and throw it up to the sky. "…Who does that? ...Who could do that? If a girl was crying, screaming and begging you not to… how could you stay… hard? How could you do that? What kind of human likes the sound of begging and pleading?
My jaw trembles and I wipe a couple tears off my chin. "But I didn't fight him off. I didn't… I didn't kick or scream. I asked him to stop. I asked him to stop SO many times and I tried so hard to get him to leave me alone, but he just wouldn't. I'm strong…aren't I? I took down at 200 pound girl. But he was so… mean? And he kept telling me that he gets what he wants and he wanted me so he was gonna…take me. I never thought he'd actually do it until he did it. I wanted him off, but… he's big, and mean, and heavy and just…" When I feel like I can actually stomach looking Shane in his face, I turn my head towards him. He has wet marks streaming down his cheeks too. "For an hour… a whole hour. And then… I just thought… I thought okay, this will never happen again. I'll forget about it, he'll forget about it, we'll put it in the past and everything will be okay." I reach over and wipe tears off Shane's face but he just sits still, like he was turned into stone. "But in the kitchen the next night…" In the kitchen the next night? Oh my god, yes. That's right. That's totally right. I remember… I remember that. Three times, if that counts, right? Oh my god Jo, yes. You're right. It was more than that… "I was doing the dishes while everybody else was in the study room doing their homework, and Paula was bathing the baby…" I'm not even telling Shane the story anymore; I'm telling myself. I'm telling myself what I neglected to remember… what I… blocked out? "He apologized to me." I nod my head, remembering. "He came up behind me, kissed me on my cheek and said he was sorry… but not that he was sorry for doing any of that. He was sorry that I…" I wrinkle my eyebrow. I'm losing it… Yeah, that's right! "He said he was 'Sorry that I'm so sexy'. And he…" Yes he did. You're totally right. "He put his hand down there and he started touching me again, then his sister came in and caught it. He acted like he wasn't doing anything, but when she left the kitchen, he told me that he'd… he'd 'finish later'. And he did…" I swat a couple more tears away. "So when I say that I can't go back there, Shane… I really mean it. I don't mean that I don't WANT to go back, I mean I CAN'T go back. I just keep thinking that it's gonna continue to happen and…" I look up at the sky again. "I mean, I know I deserve it and all, but I don't know if I can just let it happen… you know?"
"…What the HELL makes you think you deserved that?" His face reads a cross between anger and a hint of sadness. As if he's too "manly" to cry, he roughly wipes his eyes and stands up. He sweeps my shirt off the trampoline and hands it to me. "You didn't deserve that! Since when does a KISS translate into… THAT?!" He's seething with anger. I slide my arms through the holes in my shirt and pull it back over my head, careful to keep concealing the cuts on my wrist. "…Come on. We're going in the house." He grabs my right arm and pulls me up. "…You don't need to be out here anymore. Let's go… we're going inside."
"I'm perfectly capable of walking, you can let go of me." I stand up on my own and follow him through the exit screen of the trampoline. As soon as both of our feet touch down on the grass of his backyard, he grabs my right arm once again and starts dragging me towards the back door. "Shane…. Shane… SHANE." I try to pull myself out of his grasp but he's manhandling me and using all of his muscles. "Shane, let go of me. Let go…okay? I…" I know exactly what he's doing. He wouldn't betray me like this, would he? He wouldn't make me do what I KNOW he's going to make me do. He's my best friend… "I want to stay out here."
"I don't care what you want anymore, Jo." He keeps pulling me. "If you keep doing what YOU want, somebody's gonna kill you. And you're not gonna care because your dumb ass is gonna think you deserve it." He uses his free hand to slide open the back door. "After what you just told me?! I don't care about what you want…"
"You said you would keep it a secret for me!" I lock my legs up to make myself excessively hard to move. He finds a way to drag me inside the house, though. "You said you wouldn't tell! I trusted you!"
"LOOK AT YOUR FACE, JO!" He grabs me by my shoulders and drags me all through his kitchen. I grab onto the counter to resist him. "LOOK AT YOUR FACE, YOUR BACK! I'M NOT KEEPING THIS A SECRET! WHAT KIND OF FRIEND WOULD I BE?!"
"Stoppit, Shane!" He pulls me out of the kitchen and into the living room, where his mom and his little brothers are all sitting, watching something on TV. I lock my legs up again and stand near the door. "You said you wouldn't tell… you said you wouldn't tell… it's not that big of a deal. I just want to keep it a secret." I run my hands through my hair because I literally feel like I'm losing my damn mind. I start thinking of how to lie my way out of this while he tells his little brothers to go upstairs or outside to play. Is it even worth lying about anymore? I grip my hair and pull it downwards. "You said you wouldn't tell…"
"I'm not telling… you are." He grabs my arms yet again and pulls me over so that I'm standing dead in front of his mom. "Mom, Jo has something to tell you…"
"No I don't." I shake my head and as I do, tears rattle off my cheeks and onto the floor. I cover my hands over my face and take a deep breath so I can take all of this in. He said he wouldn't tell… he said he'd keep my secret… he lied to me. Miss Kelly is just looking at me… from head to toe, her eyes examining me, taking in the scene of me standing in front of her, sobbing. Why is Shane doing this to me? Why is he making me talk about it? I told him… I told him I didn't want to talk about it. Why is he doing this? "I don't… I don't…"
"Ma, look…" Shane grabs my hair rather roughly and pulls it to the side, exposing the bruise that I showed him in confidence. My usual feisty-ness is nowhere to be found right now. I'm mortified, to say the least. I can't even move, let alone fight him off me. I seriously think I might use the bathroom on myself. I'm so… humiliated. My body just starts to shake…like I'm shivering but I'm not even cold. Why is he doing this to me? I mouth the word "stoppit" and gingerly shrug his hands off me. "She can't go back there, mom. Just look!" He grabs the edge of my shirt and lifts it up too.
"My god…" His mom whispers and stands up, her mouth covered with her hand.
Why is Shane doing this to me?
"We have ten minutes left, and you still haven't said anything. You shake your head when I asked you if you had anything you wanted to talk about, but I beg to differ. I think you have a lot to talk about…" She crosses her legs and her stocking make a weird, "zzzz" noise when they rub against each other. She folds her dark-skinned hands in her lap and starts shaking her foot. "I told you that this is a safe place, where you can tell me anything you want to tell me. You were a lot more talkative during our first visit…" She taps her black ballpoint pen against her spiral notebook and keeps trying. I push my tongue to the side of my cheek and sigh. I'm done telling anybody ANYTHING. Everybody just betrays me anyway… screw this. I slide my flip flop off and onto the floor and rub my toes against the soft, plush carpeting. If she thinks I have so much to tell her, why doesn't she just talk it out instead of me? I'm sure she already got an earful from Miss Kelly. "Jo…" I wrinkle my eyebrow in distaste to let her know that it's NOT okay for her to call me that. She doesn't know me well enough to call me by my short name and I don't even trust her. I thought I did, but I don't. "Josephine…" She caught on to my facial expression and changes it up. "Honey, I know you're angry, but that's why I'm here… to get some of that anger and frustration out."
You have NO idea how "angry" I am. I could break everything in your precious little office right now, with no remorse. I could break your fingers right now, woman. You have NO idea how angry I am, so don't act like you do. You have NO idea. I gnash my teeth against one another so that my jaw is nice and tight. Mrs. Who scribbles something down in the notebook and pushes her curly black hair out of her face. She kind of reminds me of Stephanie if I look at her real fast. She gives me an exasperated sigh and closes her notebook. "Before I let you go on home, I have one last exercise I want you to try for me." She reaches inside her desk drawer and tries to hand me a bright yellow ball. "I want you to go back two weeks ago… to when your grandmother passed on, okay? I want you to think about the day the social worker came and took you away from your friend's house. And I want you to remember exactly what you did on that day. And I want you to squeeze this yellow ball when you start to feel angry about that day… okay? I'm just asking you to think. I'm not asking you to talk… I'm just asking you to think about it. And I want you to allow yourself to remember that day. I want you to take down that block you have in your mind… and I want you to allow yourself to remember your emotions for that day… okay? Will you do that for me?" If it'll make you send me home… I lean forward and snatch the ball out of her hand. "Close your eyes if you need to, sweetie…"
I lean back in the chair, close my eyes and take a deep, relaxing breath. What does she want me to do? She wants me to "unblock" the day that Meadows came and took me out of Shane's house and over to the Myers'? I lick my lips and take another deep breath. Unblock… unblock. Squeeze the ball if you get pissed.
"Josephine, I just need you to get in the car. Come on, I lined you up with a really nice family and they're eager to meet you. You can't stay here any longer." Meadows tries to uncurl my fingers from Miss Kelly's shoulders. Nothing in this world can persuade me to stop hugging her. Why can't they just let me stay? When is it such a big deal? People stay with people that aren't their family members every day. Just let me stay. "It's time to say goodbye now."
"Fuck you." I spit out at her through clenched teeth.
My hand involuntarily contracts and squeezes the yellow, spongy stress-ball. After that, everything else is seriously just one big blur. I'm trying, but I just can't remember anything after that. I remember coming home from school with Shane that day and she was there waiting for me. I thought I was okay with leaving that day, but when I saw her, I just got… pissed. And she tried to pry me away from Shane's mom and I told her "fuck you." That's all I remember. Can I go home now? I open up my eyes and lean forward to give her the stress-ball back.
"You keep that, honey." She shoves her notebook and pencil back inside her desk. "…Josephine? …How would you feel if I asked your mother about bringing you here to see me maybe…twice a week? How about Mondays and Wednesdays? Are you against that?" I shrug my shoulders. "Do you think your mother will mind? Your real mother, I mean. Not your foster mother."
"She's not my fucking mother." I don't realize that I've said a swear word until it's already out. I stand up from my chair and slide my shoes back on. "How stupid are you people? First those two gay doctors assume she's my mom, now you assume she's my mom? She's not my mother, I'm not adopted, I'll never BE adopted and I don't have a mother. She used to be my mother, but she's not anymore. You people can't possibly think she's actually my mother."
"Why don't you sit back down?" She doesn't seem angry, at all. In fact, she pulls her notebook and pen back out of her drawer and writes something in it. "What do you mean by 'she used to be' your mother? Do you want to talk about that?"
"I don't want to talk about anything. I just want to go the hell home." I sit back down in the chair and bawl my hands up into fists. I'm getting more and more irritated just being here. "She's not my mother, okay? Closest thing I have to one, but she's not it. I don't have a mother. I don't have one and I DON'T need one. Just leave me the fuck alone about it."
"…Why do you feel like Mrs. Ross would make an inadequate mother for you, Josephine?"
"I don't." I bite on my knuckle to control my anger. "She's just not my mom and she could never be. I used to think she was, but I was young and dumb. She's not my mom."
"…What happened to start making you think she's not your mother?"
"….Look bitch, I'm not fucking stupid, okay?" Stop cussing so damn much. My legs start to shake and my hands do too. I'm about to go the fuck off. "I'll never be part of the Ross family. I was so fucking stupid to ever think I could be. Just like those girls back in grade school said, a…" I really hate to bring it to this, but she just took me to this point. "…A little white girl could never fit in with a… black family. I don't belong with them… and I know it. She's not my mother and she could never be."
"So you feel like race is a problem?"
"I never fucking said that. DON'T make me seem like I'm a racist."
"But you just did say that, Josephine. You just told me that you don't feel like you could ever be a member of their family because you're white and they're black. So you feel like race is a problem? And I'm not calling you a racist, sweetheart. I'm not implying that."
"…No, I'm just saying." I wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans and bite my lip. "You asked me why she USED to be my mother and I'm telling you why she isn't anymore. I used to call her my mom but I don't anymore BECAUSE I'M WHITE and they're black. It's not a matter of how I feel about it, it's a matter of how everyone else feels. If people didn't think that way, I would've never had to hear about it. I don't call her my mom anymore FOR THAT REASON. I may think of her as my mom, but I don't call her my mom anymore BECAUSE SOMEONE TOLD ME THAT SHE COULD NEVER BE. That's all I'm saying."
"Why are you raising your voice with me?"
"BECAUSE YOU'RE PISSING ME OFF, CLEARLY! STOP ASKING ME STUPID FUCKING QUESTIONS."
"…Do you feel like my questions are stupid?"
"OBVIOUSLY!" I put my hands over my face and just…shake. I've had too much for one fucking day. I'm tired. I'm still pissed off about the whole Shane-humiliating-me incident and now she's pissing me off too. Angry tears are falling from my eyes. "I'm so sick of everyone asking me all these questions that I don't know the answers to, it's getting to be so fucking annoying! Like I just want to be left alone!"
"Do you want Mrs. Ross to be your mother? Is that the issue?"
"THERE'S NOT AN ISSUE, OH MY GOD! SHE'S NOT MY MOTHER! AND IT'S NOT BECAUSE SHE'S BLACK AND I'M WHITE, GOD THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ANYTHING! SHE'S NOT MY MOM! I DON'T HAVE ONE! I DON'T HAVE A MOTHER! EVERYONE THAT I THINK OF AS A MOTHER, THEY FUCKING LEAVE OR DIE OR… OR…"
"Or they don't protect you, like you think a mother should?" With my hands in my face, I nod the answer to that question and just sob. "So you're feeling let down… by every possible mother-figure in your life? You know nothing about your real mother… your grandmother passed on you… and your foster mother didn't protect you from Jason, did she?" Mrs. Who hands me a box of tissues. "You don't want a mother… because you don't think mothers are good people… that's the problem, huh?"
"…She knew." My jaw trembles and I wipe my face. "She knew… the whole, freaking time… she knew." My face is probably so very red right now. I sniff hard and just… spill. "How could she just turn a blind eye to it?" I wipe my eyes again. Spilling… "She caught him… twice. And she acted like it wasn't anything!" It wasn't Alyssa that walked in on it… you know it wasn't Alyssa. So why did you lie to Shane and say it was her? "He fucking…" I bite my lip and just let my foul language take over. "She fucking caught him with his hand down my pants while I was washing the dishes… and she acted like she didn't see it! He was trying to FINGER me and she didn't do anything about it! And… she caught him in the bathroom while I was taking a shower. He was taking PICTURES of me, and she knew it… she didn't do anything. How could she just act like she didn't see it?" I hold my chest because my heart literally… hurts. "And then she sat there on that couch and called me a liar? She called me a liar… but she knew."
"…What couch, honey?"
"SHANE'S COUCH!" I throw the box of tissues across the room, at the window and groan in anger. "Shane made me tell… he MADE me… and his mom called them over… she called them over this afternoon and he sat there on that couch next to his mother… and he told everybody that I wanted it. That I ASKED him to do it. He said I ASKED him for it and his MOTHER called me a liar… to my FACE. Said that the bruises were because I'm a 'damaged' little girl… but she saw it. She saw it happen, TWICE. She knew… and she called me a liar." I sniff again. "…What kind of mother? She was supposed to protect me… I didn't have a choice but to trust them… and she didn't even care that he was doing this to me. She knew he was doing it. She knew about it… but she didn't say anything…"
"And what did Shane's mom do?"
"Threw them both out." My jaw keeps on trembling. I cover my hand over my mouth, look over at the door to avoid eye contact and just try to breathe. "I threw up… I… I wet my pants." I sigh again, sure that I've gotten all the harsh tears out so that the soft ones are left. "I came down the steps and I saw them sitting there on the couch… I saw him, and I threw up… like I did the next morning after he did what he did. I saw him on the couch and I threw up. And I sat down in front of him, he smiled at me and I wet my pants. Shane's mom argued that I wouldn't… I wouldn't get sick if he didn't force himself on me. She told them that I'm not a liar, and she's getting the police involved… and she threw them out. She gave me a hug, kissed me and she made them leave…"
"She comforted you… believed you and tried to protect you… like a mother would do?"
"…I guess." I shrug.
"African-American, Caucasian, Mexican, Asian… I don't think it matters, honey. I think you have yourself a mother. And I think… I think that if the courts let you stay with her, you need to stop pushing her away. Because that's a mother right there. The courts are letting you stay with the Rosses, aren't they?"
"It's not official, but yeah." I nod. "She went down and asked for a court date to see the judge about keeping me…"
"…I think you made real progress today, Jo. I think you made some pretty heavy steps towards getting better." She stands up and walks across the room to give me a hug. "…I want to see you again on Wednesday. Dr. Robbins and Dr. Torres asked about you… and I told them that I think you're going to be alright. Can I see you again on Wednesday?"
"Yeah."
