TITLE: Dead (2/2)
*
RATING: R
*
SUMMARY: After something terrible happens to Lizzie, she starts to feel
dead inside.
*
DISCLAIMER: I don't own 'Lizzie' or Disney, and if I did, I don't think
you'd like what I'd do with it, so everything happens for a reason!
*
NOTES: I wasn't actually going to add a sequel to this, but people kept
wanting me to, and (shocked gasp!) they actually liked it! And Lizzie's a
good kid and I think she needs some closure as much as anyone who would be
victim to rape. So, read, respond, tell me you love it, tell what a
horrible person I am for writing stuff like this for a Disney show, then
run screaming from your computer.ya' know, whatever. (p.s., writing a
Lizzie fanfic story while listening to Slipknot is probably not the bets
stimuli)
I am dead.
He doesn't know.
My dad didn't know when he tried to touch me. He was messing around with Matt, and I was too lost to notice. Lost in thought, lost in anything that didn't hurt as much as being found. I was sitting at the table and he tried to tickle me, or maybe he brushed up against me.or maybe he didn't even come near me. I don't remember.
All I know is that I screamed.
Getoffgetoffgetoff
He can't touch me.
It's wrong.
It hurts.
Don't touch me!
StopNoPleaseHelpStopNoPleaseHelp.
I don't remember if I said it out loud, but I must have. When I came too, there was silence. Everyone's eyes were on me. My mom, dad, brother. I was on the floor, curled in a ball. The way I am when I'm in my room at night.
My eyes shifted from each family member. My brother didn't know. My father didn't know.
My mother knew. I saw it in the way her eyes widened in shock. I saw it in the way she placed her hand over her mouth to keep from crying aloud.
Then I ran. At first I didn't know where. I was going to run until my lungs exploded, until I dropped from exhaustion, until the world made sense again. Until I was alive again. Instead, I ended up running into my room.
I stand there, at first not knowing what to do. I knew what to do when they didn't know, but what was I going to do when they did know? I never got that far. I never expected to live that long.
I hear a knock on the door, and know it's her. My mother comes into the room but I don't turn to look at her. I can't let her see my tear streaked face, or I can't bear to see hers.
She stands there for what seems like forever. I sense her near me, but she knows enough to keep her distance.
"It happened to me." She finally speaks.
"I know."
"How?"
Because, for the first time, I see her. I see the distance she tries to keep from people, and at the same time try to hide the fact. I see the deadness in her eyes. Just like me.
"I know." Is all I say.
"Who did it?" Her voice quivers. She is trying to be strong, but tears are threatening to overwhelm her.
It was just another faceless man. In the end it doesn't matter who they are or what they're name is. It doesn't matter that I see him in the school hallway every day. It doesn't matter that he acts as if I don't exist. Because I don't. I'm dead.
I don't reply.
"Was.was it your father?"
No. "No."
Silence.
"It hurts. I wish I could tell you it gets better, but it doesn't, not really."
It would be better if it hurt. If it felt like anything at all, instead of being numb all over. It would be better if it didn't feel like being dead.
"You're going to have to talk to me Lizzie. You're going to have to tell me what happened."
"I know." Sooner or later I knew it would come to this, but I never expected to live that long.
"How long ago?"
I don't even know. A week? A month? A year? It all seems to blur together. It was a month after Miranda's Birthday when it happened.and today is.?
"Three weeks."
"Oh God." I hear self-blame in her voice. I hear unspoken words. 'How could I have not seen it?' 'Why didn't I know?' 'I could have helped.'.'I could have stopped it.'
A moment passes of silence. Neither one of us have moved. "Lizzie, I need you to open up to me now. This is very serious. The longer you go.the longer you keep this inside you, the harder it is to come back to reality. Life itself gets too hard for you to even live it anymore, and all you want to do is die. I know, Lizzie. You have to talk to me."
"Why?"
"Because I'm never going to stop talking to you. I'm never going to stop asking. And maybe you won't tell me the first time, or the fifth, but you will the fortieth. I know that's how many times it took for me."
"Who did you tell?"
"Your father."
Panic rushes through me for a second. "He can't know."
"He has to. We all have to. How did it happen?"
She can't know. She can't know that it was my fault. I took the drink. She can't know that he touched me everywhere at once. That I bled for days. Then, I wonder for the first time.
Why can't she know?
"I was raped." I say, almost unsure of my words.
She waits for me to continue. I wouldn't have even known that I'm continuing if it wasn't for the sound of my own voice.
"I bled. I thought at first I was going to die. I wanted to die. The music was playing too loud. No one heard me scream. I don't even know if I did scream or not. He put something in my drink. Then he raped me. Then I bled. I.I'm sorry." By this time I'm sobbing, and I'm surprised she can understand me through my tears.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone. I shouldn't have done so many things. If I was better, or more careful.It wouldn't have happened if I was just smarter, or didn't flirt with him, or just more careful, or more behaved, or-"
I'm cut off because she grabs me. She hugs me with such intensity, I can hardly breath, but I don't care. For the first time, I don't flinch, or cringe, or scream. I accept the embrace because it's what I need. I need her to show me that I'm wrong. That I'm stupid to think these things. I need her to show me that I'm not dead. That I feel, and what I feel is normal.
She shushes me and tells me everything I need to hear. She tells me that it's going to be okay.
Minutes pass, hours pass, and we are still hugging. I never want to let go, but I have to. I have to know.
"What happens next?"
She looks at me and smiles.
"Now, you start to feel alive again."
I am dead.
He doesn't know.
My dad didn't know when he tried to touch me. He was messing around with Matt, and I was too lost to notice. Lost in thought, lost in anything that didn't hurt as much as being found. I was sitting at the table and he tried to tickle me, or maybe he brushed up against me.or maybe he didn't even come near me. I don't remember.
All I know is that I screamed.
Getoffgetoffgetoff
He can't touch me.
It's wrong.
It hurts.
Don't touch me!
StopNoPleaseHelpStopNoPleaseHelp.
I don't remember if I said it out loud, but I must have. When I came too, there was silence. Everyone's eyes were on me. My mom, dad, brother. I was on the floor, curled in a ball. The way I am when I'm in my room at night.
My eyes shifted from each family member. My brother didn't know. My father didn't know.
My mother knew. I saw it in the way her eyes widened in shock. I saw it in the way she placed her hand over her mouth to keep from crying aloud.
Then I ran. At first I didn't know where. I was going to run until my lungs exploded, until I dropped from exhaustion, until the world made sense again. Until I was alive again. Instead, I ended up running into my room.
I stand there, at first not knowing what to do. I knew what to do when they didn't know, but what was I going to do when they did know? I never got that far. I never expected to live that long.
I hear a knock on the door, and know it's her. My mother comes into the room but I don't turn to look at her. I can't let her see my tear streaked face, or I can't bear to see hers.
She stands there for what seems like forever. I sense her near me, but she knows enough to keep her distance.
"It happened to me." She finally speaks.
"I know."
"How?"
Because, for the first time, I see her. I see the distance she tries to keep from people, and at the same time try to hide the fact. I see the deadness in her eyes. Just like me.
"I know." Is all I say.
"Who did it?" Her voice quivers. She is trying to be strong, but tears are threatening to overwhelm her.
It was just another faceless man. In the end it doesn't matter who they are or what they're name is. It doesn't matter that I see him in the school hallway every day. It doesn't matter that he acts as if I don't exist. Because I don't. I'm dead.
I don't reply.
"Was.was it your father?"
No. "No."
Silence.
"It hurts. I wish I could tell you it gets better, but it doesn't, not really."
It would be better if it hurt. If it felt like anything at all, instead of being numb all over. It would be better if it didn't feel like being dead.
"You're going to have to talk to me Lizzie. You're going to have to tell me what happened."
"I know." Sooner or later I knew it would come to this, but I never expected to live that long.
"How long ago?"
I don't even know. A week? A month? A year? It all seems to blur together. It was a month after Miranda's Birthday when it happened.and today is.?
"Three weeks."
"Oh God." I hear self-blame in her voice. I hear unspoken words. 'How could I have not seen it?' 'Why didn't I know?' 'I could have helped.'.'I could have stopped it.'
A moment passes of silence. Neither one of us have moved. "Lizzie, I need you to open up to me now. This is very serious. The longer you go.the longer you keep this inside you, the harder it is to come back to reality. Life itself gets too hard for you to even live it anymore, and all you want to do is die. I know, Lizzie. You have to talk to me."
"Why?"
"Because I'm never going to stop talking to you. I'm never going to stop asking. And maybe you won't tell me the first time, or the fifth, but you will the fortieth. I know that's how many times it took for me."
"Who did you tell?"
"Your father."
Panic rushes through me for a second. "He can't know."
"He has to. We all have to. How did it happen?"
She can't know. She can't know that it was my fault. I took the drink. She can't know that he touched me everywhere at once. That I bled for days. Then, I wonder for the first time.
Why can't she know?
"I was raped." I say, almost unsure of my words.
She waits for me to continue. I wouldn't have even known that I'm continuing if it wasn't for the sound of my own voice.
"I bled. I thought at first I was going to die. I wanted to die. The music was playing too loud. No one heard me scream. I don't even know if I did scream or not. He put something in my drink. Then he raped me. Then I bled. I.I'm sorry." By this time I'm sobbing, and I'm surprised she can understand me through my tears.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone. I shouldn't have done so many things. If I was better, or more careful.It wouldn't have happened if I was just smarter, or didn't flirt with him, or just more careful, or more behaved, or-"
I'm cut off because she grabs me. She hugs me with such intensity, I can hardly breath, but I don't care. For the first time, I don't flinch, or cringe, or scream. I accept the embrace because it's what I need. I need her to show me that I'm wrong. That I'm stupid to think these things. I need her to show me that I'm not dead. That I feel, and what I feel is normal.
She shushes me and tells me everything I need to hear. She tells me that it's going to be okay.
Minutes pass, hours pass, and we are still hugging. I never want to let go, but I have to. I have to know.
"What happens next?"
She looks at me and smiles.
"Now, you start to feel alive again."