Disclaimer: I own nothing!

"Praying" by Kesha
I'm proud of who I am
No more monsters, I can breathe again
And you said that I was done
Well, you were wrong and now the best is yet to come
'Cause I can make it on my own, oh
And I don't need you, I found a strength I've never known
I'll bring thunder, I'll bring rain, oh
When I'm finished, they won't even know your name

You brought the flames and you put me through hell
I had to learn how to fight for myself

BPOV

"Bella, come on," Mike pleaded as he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back toward him. "I love you."

I leaned my head against his shoulder. "Not yet."

He rolled his eyes. "You're being so selfish."

I lifted my head to look at him. "I don't see how." Was I being self-centered? I genuinely didn't want to have sex with Mike yet.

He sighed and leaned forward to press his lips to mine. I kissed him back. He shifted on the couch, so his body was facing more toward mine. One of his hands gripped tightly around my hip and the other was on my thigh. He deepened the kiss and scooted closer to me. I rested my hands on his shoulders, prepared to push him away if needed.

He reached up and put his hand on top of mine before gripping my wrist. He moved my hand down and quickly placed it on the bulge in his jeans.

I simultaneously broke away from the kiss and moved my hand. I recoiled away from him. Before I could say anything, Mike was already explaining, "We can do other things… You know, since you don't want to actually have sex."

I shook my head. I didn't have a desire to do anything sexual with Mike. It didn't feel right. I didn't know when or how I would feel ready, but it definitely wasn't here on his living room couch with his parents probably on their way home from work. I also wanted… I don't know, more. Call me a hopeless romantic if you want, but I wanted to feel like I needed Mike right here, right now with no doubts in my mind. Instead, I felt like I wanted to go home and get as far away from him as I could. My body was far from aroused; instead, it was telling me to flee.

"I don't want to, Mike!" I said annoyingly. Anytime we were alone lately, he was pushing this agenda. I was tired of it.

"See, that's what I mean about being fucking selfish!" He yelled angrily. "I want a physical relationship with you, and you keep shutting me down. I can only wait so long until I look for it elsewhere."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.

"Ugh! You know what it means, Bella. Are you ever going to be ready or not?"

I felt like crying because I didn't know the answer and because I was really starting to wonder if I was being egocentric or if there was something wrong with me. I just didn't feel fully attracted to Mike in a sexual type of way. Not right now, at least. And the pressure of it all was making me even more confused.

"I don't know," I answered in a small voice.

"Then get out. This is over. I'll find someone else."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Mike…"

"No, Bella," he said hastily before standing up from the couch and picking up my backpack. He shoved it at me. "Leave. Get out!"

I stood up but froze as I looked at him again. His eyes were dark, and he had a scowl on his face. He suddenly lunged toward me and grabbed my wrists. He pushed me down on the couch and held my arms above my head with one hand while his other hand traveled up my shirt and underneath my bra.

I woke myself up screaming from the nightmare.

I sat up straight in bed and wiped the tears that were streaming down my cheeks. I knew right away this dream had something to do with court this week where I would have to see Mike again for the first time since the assault. I focused on taking deep breaths to slow my heart rate. I hoped Charlie wasn't going to wake up.

I glanced at the clock – it was 2:00 in the morning. I wasn't going to be able to fall back asleep anytime soon, so I reached for my phone on my nightstand.

I had a text message from Jacob from a couple hours ago:

Goodnight, beautiful Bella! Sweet dreams. XO

Jacob was a heavy sleeper, so I knew it wouldn't wake him up if I responded now:

You're sweet, but my dreams are not. I miss you. XO

Why did Mike have to be such a jerk? Why did I have to agree to go out with him in the first place? Ugh, I hated myself for making that decision. If only I'd said no from the beginning, then none of this would have happened. Mike turned out to be a monster. That made me wonder… Was I rushing things with Jacob? I thought everything was good with Mike before he did a complete 180. What if that happened with Jacob, too? I was feeling more anxious now. My heart would be completely broken if things ended badly with Jacob…

My phone started buzzing like someone was calling me. I looked down and answered immediately. "Jake?" I said in a whisper, not wanting to wake Charlie. I was surprised that my scream hadn't.

"Hey, Bells," he said groggily.

"Crap, did my text wake you up? I'm sorry."

"No, no, it didn't… I'm staying over at Quil's tonight. Heather just got home a few minutes ago, and she was kind of loud in the kitchen, so it woke me up."

I sighed. What was Heather doing out at this hour? "Oh. Is she… okay? I mean, it's pretty late."

"I don't know," Jacob responded. "I didn't get up to check on her. Part of me didn't want to know the answer."

"Ugh, I don't blame you," I sighed as I worried about Quil. "Did it wake Quil up, too?"

"No, he's still asleep," Jacob replied. "Did you have a bad dream?"

"Yeah," I said quietly before shuddering a little at the memory of it.

"I'm sorry, Bells. Wanna talk about it?"

I took a deep breath. "Not really… I think it's just anxiety about court this week."

"Stay on the phone with me until you fall asleep?" Jake offered.

"Okay," I responded before I snuggled back down under my covers. The anxiety I was feeling about Jacob before he called seemed to dissipate. He really was the most genuine, caring person I'd ever met. He was my best friend. Mike was never my best friend.

"Try to go to sleep, Bell." That was the last thing I heard before my eyes drooped.

"Why did you ask for make up work for class on Thursday and Friday? Everything okay?" Angela asked me as we walked to the parking lot together after school the next day. It was Monday afternoon.

"Yeah, everything's fine," I sighed. "I have to go to court on Thursday for the case with Mike. I'm not coming to school Friday because I think Thursday will be too draining."

I stopped at my truck and pulled my keys out of backpack.

"Oh, Bella! I had no idea… Will you have to see him? Do you have to testify?"

My stomach flip flopped with anxiety. "Yes to both."

There was no plea deal that had been agreed to, and Mike's attorney made it clear to the District Attorney (DA) that they were going to fight the charges. When I met with the DA last week, he said it was going to be a long court hearing because many people would have to testify, including my dad, Mike, Maddie, the police detective, the two other police officers on scene, and me.

"Gosh, I'm so sorry, Bella. I can't imagine how scary that must be."

"Yeah," I sighed again. "I'm sorry, I have to go, Ang. I have a therapy appointment, and I don't want to be late."

"Of course, sorry. I'll see you tomorrow. Let me know if you need anything." Angela pulled me into a hug before turning and walking to her own car.

I climbed into my truck and started driving to my appointment with Maddie. I tried to keep my mind clear as I drove. I had been feeling anxious all day, just anticipating court… and seeing him there. Ugh. I pushed it out of my mind and focused just on the mundane road ahead of me.

I parked and made my way inside. I checked in then sat down. Maddie greeted me right away. I followed her back into her office. I sat in my usual spot on her couch and grabbed a pillow to hold it in front of myself.

"You look anxious, Bella." Maddie noted as she sat down across from me.

I nodded. "Court on Thursday."

"What are you most afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid." I said quickly. I thought back to the last few sessions I'd had to Maddie. We focused so much on empowerment. That, coupled with beating the shit out of a punching bag with Stevie once a week, had me feeling pretty strong. I didn't think I was afraid.

"Well, anxiety is being afraid of what may or may not happen."

I sighed. Maddie and all her wisdom. "Okay, let me rephrase that – I don't want to be afraid."

"And I ask my previous question again – what are you most afraid of? And just because you are afraid doesn't mean you aren't strong. In fact, the only way to build strength is to face adversity."

I digested that for a second. That made sense. I would not be able to stand up for myself the way I was able to now if I hadn't been assaulted. "I guess I am most afraid of… seeing him and forgetting all the hard work I've done to process what he did."

"I don't want to lie to you and tell you that it will be easy to see him," Maddie said. "It is probably going to be difficult. But you can do hard things."

I could do hard things. Okay. "I'm also afraid of his attorney… What if she makes it look like it was my fault?"

"Well, remember that's his attorney's job – to make you look bad. She's doing it to get paid."

I nodded. "I know… It just kind of seems like it would be better if we just dropped the charges. I could keep the restraining order forever and just move on already. I don't want to sit through a court hearing where I have to see Mike and have his attorney try to make all of this look like it was my fault."

"A lot of women in your shoes do that."

"Really?"

Maddie frowned. "Yes, the system is not always in favor of survivors, unfortunately."

"It fucking sucks." I said then instantly thought of Quil because of my language. I guess that was the only bad habit I was picking up from hanging out with him and Jacob. "But if I do that, it will also feel like I'm running away from him. I don't want him to think I'm afraid of him anymore, even though I am, I guess."

Maddie took a deep breath and smiled tightly. "You have to make the decision that's right for you, Bella. Even the women that don't pursue charges are strong because they are doing what they need for themselves. What is best for you?"

I contemplated her question for a while. The loudest voice in my head was saying that I needed all of this behind me. I needed to just move forward in my life. I wanted to forget that any of this ever happened.

But there was also a smaller, quieter voice that wondered if not pursing charges would mean that Mike won. It also wondered how many other women he would do this to if I didn't speak my story.

I had to do this for other women, too. Not just me. I also imagined how it would feel to steal my power back from Mike in court. I wanted to see him receive consequences for his actions. Maybe that's what I needed for closure and to move forward. I envisioned Mike getting jail time or having to go to a residential treatment facility.

"I need to do this… If not for me, then for the other women that could be his future victims… I think it will also feel good to see what his punishment will be."

Maddie smiled. "Then let's make him be the one that's afraid of ever messing with a woman again."

. . . . . . .

Fuck you.

Fuck you.

Fuck you.

I said like a mantra over and over in my head as I wailed on the punching bag later that evening at my self-defense class with Stevie. I imagined it was Mike I was pounding. Tonight, Stevie showed us the elbow strike and how to escape from a bear hug attack.

Stevie taught us that if an attacker is too close to us, and we can't get enough momentum to throw a strong hammer strike or groin kick, we should use our elbows to strike the attacker in their neck, jawline, or chin.

If an attacker comes up from behind us and tries to pull us into a "bear hug," Stevie showed us how to bend forward, so it makes it more difficult for the attacker to pick us up. Then she showed us how to use our elbows to strike the attacker until we are able to get free.

We broke up into groups again and practiced. I was getting better on my feet and wasn't quite as clumsy as I had during the first class.

"Bella," Stevie said as she came to stand beside me. "How are you feeling about court on Thursday?"

I looked at her curiously. I wasn't sure how she knew, but I guessed it was just because she worked here at the police station with my dad. And since Forks was so dang small…

"Okay, I guess." I responded.

"You know," she said, leaning against my punching bag. "I think you're ready to face him – Mike. You're stronger and you know how to hold yourself."

I shrugged and glanced at Stevie. She was someone I looked up to so much. She was the definition of "strong." I wondered for a moment why she taught self-defense classes to women and what made her the badass feminist that she was. I also didn't know what she did during the day – I guessed she was a patrol officer since she worked here, but I wasn't sure.

She smiled, and as if she read my thought, she said, "I want to tell you my 'me too' story if you'd like to hear it. We have to tell our stories to break the stigma, right?"

I nodded and started to pull off my gloves. "Yes. I'd like to hear your story if you want to share."

"For whatever reason, I knew since I was a little kid that I wanted to be a police officer. So, when I graduated high school, I got my bachelor's degree in criminal justice then passed the physical and written tests to go on to the police academy in Seattle. There's quite a bit of hazing that happens in police academies to new recruits – usually just a lot of comments about being newbies and being forced to do extra chores and things like that," she sighed. I was listening intently as I leaned against the punching bag, completely engrossed in her story.

"Well, the women officers weren't just hazed… Many of them were assaulted, me included. Most of our teachers were men, obviously, in a male-dominated profession. Well, one of our teachers was extremely handsy. He would always come up behind us and give us unwanted neck massages, snap our bras, things like that. During one of his classes, we were learning how to do pat-downs. He asked me to stand up for him to demonstrate, so I did. In front of the entire class, he groped my ass and my breasts. All the guys in the class laughed while I stood there humiliated and completely frozen…" She trailed off for a second.

"Once he was done touching me, I walked out of the class and straight to the HR department. I told them I wanted to file a complaint. They told me if I did, I would likely be kicked out of the academy. I filed the complaint anyway… Once that teacher found out about it, he backed me into a corner one night and told me he was only kidding, and that I let him touch me the way he did because I didn't fight him or move away…"

She shook her head. "Fucking asshole. Anyway, I ended up getting kicked out of the academy, just like the HR department warned me would happen. I didn't care. I needed a change of scenery, so I moved in with my cousin here in Forks soon afterwards. I worked at a grocery store for a while until I met your dad, which was inevitable in this small town. I met with him one day and decided to join the police department here… Completely different experience, obviously." She smiled.

I didn't know what to say. "Stevie, I'm so sorry that you experienced all of that."

"I'm not," she said blankly. "Without that experience under my belt, I wouldn't understand how to empathize with other women with similar experiences, like you. I also wouldn't have found this department or my partner, Leah."

I was reminded of "the Great Perhaps" for a second. Just like Stevie, if this experience with Mike never happened, I probably would have never met Jacob and Quil. Without her experience, she would have never met her partner or found her job here in Forks. Maybe bad things have to happen for us to understand and appreciate the good things.

But that still didn't mean Mike, or any other guy for that matter, could be let off the hook for assaulting women.

"You… know all about my experience?" Again, I figured it was just because of it being such a small town and small police department. I also guessed everyone knew that my dad had to be in court on Thursday.

She looked at me puzzlingly. "You don't remember, do you?"

"Remember what?"

"Bella, I was the detective that responded to the call the night Mike assaulted you. I was the second officer on scene with your dad."

I blinked a few times before fully registering what she had just said. I closed my eyes, forcing it to make sense. Then I started to remember a tiny, blurry fragment of the memory:

I was sitting on the stairs sometime after my dad got home… That's when I was still floating, totally checked out.

"She's not responding to me at all! I don't know what to do to help her!" My dad yelled.

"She's in shock. Give her some time. I'll get her upstairs. You stay here with the perp." Stevie said before coming over and kneeling in front of me.

"Bella, you are safe. I am going to get you upstairs so we can talk. I'll also help you get some different clothes."

Stevie put one of my arms around her shoulders then wrapped her arm around my waist and pulled me up. I guess my feet worked enough to walk up the stairs with her.

We got into my room, and she walked me over to my bed. She rummaged through one of my drawers and found some clean clothes for me. She stepped out into the hall while I changed into them and kicked my other clothes under the bed. She came back into the room and sat next to me on my bed.

I guessed that was when she started asking me questions about what happened, but I still couldn't remember.

I opened my eyes. "You took me upstairs and talked with me?"

"Yes." She replied.

"I don't really remember much after you helping me upstairs, but thank you."

She put her hand on my shoulder. "No thank-you needed, Bella. Us women have to stick together… After you changed, I just asked you some questions about what happened with Mike. You weren't really able to give me much information. Then you laid in bed and fell asleep."

I nodded, thankful that she filled in some of the gaps for me. "So, you'll be at court on Thursday, too?"

"Yes," she smirked and squeezed my shoulder. "Let's give that fucker what he deserves, shall we?"

I smiled. "What kind of consequences do you think Mike will get?"

"It's hard to say… It depends on how the evidence is presented and how the attorneys spin it," she sighed. "Often, though, men are let off far too easy for these types of charges."