Okay, new chapter, lotsa drama. Ending might be a bit confusing, but I promise it'll be perfectly clear in the next chapter. And I will write it really soon, but I'm having trouble with getting on the internet with the whole blackout thing.
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I was scared.
Really scared.
I couldn't control myself anymore. I had no idea what had happened the night before. I had no control over my body or mind. I was so scared that I went to Ms. Sovet about it after school on Friday.
"So. . . have I lost my mind?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood.
She leaned forward. "Of course not. But, I do think that there are people more qualified than me to help you out."
"Why? What's wrong with me?"
"I think you might be suffering from PTSD."
"What's that?"
"Post traumatic Stress Disorder. And it's normal after what you've been though."
"So, am I crazy?"
"No. And I promise, we can work through this. I'm just glad you came to me before this got too out of hand."
I nodded, but didn't meet her gaze. "I'm scared."
Ms. Sovet put her hand on top of mine. "I know. But you did the right thing. And you're so strong Paige. Even if you don't realize it, you're going to get through this."
"Are you sure?"
She nodded and I got up.
"Thanks," I whispered.
It was her turn to nod. "I'll get you a referral to someone for Monday. Will you be okay for the weekend?"
No. I wouldn't. I didn't know what was going on with myself. "Yeah."
She smiled. "Okay, I think it's time for both of us to get out of this building."
I smiled too. At least I tried to. "I'll see you on Monday." I headed out the door and towards home, feeling a little bit more hopeful, even though grey clouds were rolling overhead. I checked my watch, and hoped that I would make it home before it started to pour. The air was heavy and thick, and it made it harder to breathe. I crossed the street and walked by the opening of the Greenbelt, and I heard footsteps behind me. I was going to run, but I felt a hand cover my mouth.
"Don't scream," a voice beside me whispered. I knew the voice. And without turning, I knew what I would see. The face of my worst nightmares. I wanted to run away, to break away from him, but I was frozen with fear. I turned around slightly and saw him. But I wasn't expecting the way he looked. He had bruises all over his face, sweat pouring down his face, eyes wide. Something was off with him. Was he drunk?
"Now you listen to me, Spirit. You're going to go to the police and tell them you made it all up. And then you're going to tell everyone you know that you just made it up. And you're going to keep your fag brother and water boy away from me."
That got me angry. I could put up with certain things, but I hated when people talked about Mikey like that. I tried to elbow him from behind me. He grabbed my arm with his free hand and put me in an arm lock.
"And do you know why you're going to do that, Spirit?" He took his hand off of my mouth and reached in his pocket. Then I felt something cool against my arm, followed by my arm feeling like it was splitting in half. He had cut me. "Because next time, that won't be your arm. That'll be your wrist. And the other. And they'll all just think you were another troubled girl who took her own life. Got it?"
I managed to nod, and he let go of me. "Remember what I said." He ran off. I stood there for a minute, and didn't move. I couldn't breathe. My arm was burning. Thunder boomed overhead, but I still just stayed there. Then rain drops- cold, heavy drops started coming down on me. I started walking back home.
Mikey said hi when I got in, but didn't see me. He was too busy watching TV. I mumbled a hi and went up into my room. My arm was still bleeding. He had cut me deep, but I didn't try to wrap it up. My mouth was red and I could still see the outline of his fingers. My hair and my clothes were soaked. I was physically and mentally exhausted. Living and breathing seemed like too much of a task. I sat down on my bed, then rested my head in a bundle of blankets in the middle of the bed. I pulled my arm into my wet t-shirt. Dean's words played over in my head.
'Because next time, that won't be your arm. That'll be your wrist. And the other. And they'll all just think you were another troubled girl who took her own life. Got it?' He had told me. Would he really do that? I had always assumed that he was above so many things he had done. I had never thought that he would have raped me. I never thought that he would have threatened me. I never thought that he would have cut me. Why should I believe that he wouldn't kill me?
"Paige!" Mikey shouted.
"What?" I called back when I finally found my voice.
"There's someone here to see you."
Dean. He was here. Why had Mikey let him in? Why was everyone doing this to me? There were footsteps on the stairs. He was coming after me. I slid down on the floor, slightly hidden from the door. Maybe I could run out of the window.
"Paige?" Mikey's voice was right outside my door now. Why didn't he know that Dean was were to kill me? I wrapped my arms around myself tightly. The door was opening.
"Go away," I tried to shout. It ended up more as a beg.
"Paige?" It was a different voice. But it was a voice that I knew. Low and calm, a voice of reason.
"What do you want, Officer Collins?" I asked softly. I didn't turn around, but I could hear his footsteps coming towards me.
"I'll be downstairs if you need me," Mikey said from the doorway.
"You got caught in the rain?"
"How could you tell?" I muttered.
"How are you holding up?"
I laughed sarcastically. "Do they pay you to ask things like that?" I shivered. He still didn't say anything. "What do you want?"
"I wanted to let you see this." He held a piece of paper.
"What's that?"
"It's an arrest warrant."
"You mean-?"
"You said you had to see it to believe it. And I'm going to arrest Dean as soon as I leave here."
"You can't!"
"Why not?"
I started rocking back and forth. "He's going to. . . you can't. . . it's over."
"What's over?" He came over and sat beside me. "Paige?"
I giggled. "He's not there."
"Who's not where? Have you taken something?"
"Un-uh," I sang.
He reached from my arm. Before I could pull it back, he saw the cut. "You're cutting again."
"I didn't do that!" I shouted. "I. . . I. . . it was him."
"Who?"
"Please go away now." I got on my bed and folded my arms across my chest.
"Paige," he said softly, coming over to me. I didn't want him so close to me. I reached down behind my bed where I had left a knife. I curled my fingers around it.
"Please go away now," I repeated. He came closer to me.
"What happened to you arm, Paige?" Closer and closer, he just kept coming.
"Please go away," I said again, this time, almost whimpering. He put his hand out to touch my arm.
"No!" I shouted, jumping up, brandishing the piece of glass.
"Okay," he said calmly, holding out a hand. "Paige, I'm going to back away from you, okay? But I need you to put down your knife."
I dropped the knife, then sat down, curled into a ball and started rocking back and forth.
"Dean's bad," I whispered. And I just whispered it again and again. . .
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I was scared.
Really scared.
I couldn't control myself anymore. I had no idea what had happened the night before. I had no control over my body or mind. I was so scared that I went to Ms. Sovet about it after school on Friday.
"So. . . have I lost my mind?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood.
She leaned forward. "Of course not. But, I do think that there are people more qualified than me to help you out."
"Why? What's wrong with me?"
"I think you might be suffering from PTSD."
"What's that?"
"Post traumatic Stress Disorder. And it's normal after what you've been though."
"So, am I crazy?"
"No. And I promise, we can work through this. I'm just glad you came to me before this got too out of hand."
I nodded, but didn't meet her gaze. "I'm scared."
Ms. Sovet put her hand on top of mine. "I know. But you did the right thing. And you're so strong Paige. Even if you don't realize it, you're going to get through this."
"Are you sure?"
She nodded and I got up.
"Thanks," I whispered.
It was her turn to nod. "I'll get you a referral to someone for Monday. Will you be okay for the weekend?"
No. I wouldn't. I didn't know what was going on with myself. "Yeah."
She smiled. "Okay, I think it's time for both of us to get out of this building."
I smiled too. At least I tried to. "I'll see you on Monday." I headed out the door and towards home, feeling a little bit more hopeful, even though grey clouds were rolling overhead. I checked my watch, and hoped that I would make it home before it started to pour. The air was heavy and thick, and it made it harder to breathe. I crossed the street and walked by the opening of the Greenbelt, and I heard footsteps behind me. I was going to run, but I felt a hand cover my mouth.
"Don't scream," a voice beside me whispered. I knew the voice. And without turning, I knew what I would see. The face of my worst nightmares. I wanted to run away, to break away from him, but I was frozen with fear. I turned around slightly and saw him. But I wasn't expecting the way he looked. He had bruises all over his face, sweat pouring down his face, eyes wide. Something was off with him. Was he drunk?
"Now you listen to me, Spirit. You're going to go to the police and tell them you made it all up. And then you're going to tell everyone you know that you just made it up. And you're going to keep your fag brother and water boy away from me."
That got me angry. I could put up with certain things, but I hated when people talked about Mikey like that. I tried to elbow him from behind me. He grabbed my arm with his free hand and put me in an arm lock.
"And do you know why you're going to do that, Spirit?" He took his hand off of my mouth and reached in his pocket. Then I felt something cool against my arm, followed by my arm feeling like it was splitting in half. He had cut me. "Because next time, that won't be your arm. That'll be your wrist. And the other. And they'll all just think you were another troubled girl who took her own life. Got it?"
I managed to nod, and he let go of me. "Remember what I said." He ran off. I stood there for a minute, and didn't move. I couldn't breathe. My arm was burning. Thunder boomed overhead, but I still just stayed there. Then rain drops- cold, heavy drops started coming down on me. I started walking back home.
Mikey said hi when I got in, but didn't see me. He was too busy watching TV. I mumbled a hi and went up into my room. My arm was still bleeding. He had cut me deep, but I didn't try to wrap it up. My mouth was red and I could still see the outline of his fingers. My hair and my clothes were soaked. I was physically and mentally exhausted. Living and breathing seemed like too much of a task. I sat down on my bed, then rested my head in a bundle of blankets in the middle of the bed. I pulled my arm into my wet t-shirt. Dean's words played over in my head.
'Because next time, that won't be your arm. That'll be your wrist. And the other. And they'll all just think you were another troubled girl who took her own life. Got it?' He had told me. Would he really do that? I had always assumed that he was above so many things he had done. I had never thought that he would have raped me. I never thought that he would have threatened me. I never thought that he would have cut me. Why should I believe that he wouldn't kill me?
"Paige!" Mikey shouted.
"What?" I called back when I finally found my voice.
"There's someone here to see you."
Dean. He was here. Why had Mikey let him in? Why was everyone doing this to me? There were footsteps on the stairs. He was coming after me. I slid down on the floor, slightly hidden from the door. Maybe I could run out of the window.
"Paige?" Mikey's voice was right outside my door now. Why didn't he know that Dean was were to kill me? I wrapped my arms around myself tightly. The door was opening.
"Go away," I tried to shout. It ended up more as a beg.
"Paige?" It was a different voice. But it was a voice that I knew. Low and calm, a voice of reason.
"What do you want, Officer Collins?" I asked softly. I didn't turn around, but I could hear his footsteps coming towards me.
"I'll be downstairs if you need me," Mikey said from the doorway.
"You got caught in the rain?"
"How could you tell?" I muttered.
"How are you holding up?"
I laughed sarcastically. "Do they pay you to ask things like that?" I shivered. He still didn't say anything. "What do you want?"
"I wanted to let you see this." He held a piece of paper.
"What's that?"
"It's an arrest warrant."
"You mean-?"
"You said you had to see it to believe it. And I'm going to arrest Dean as soon as I leave here."
"You can't!"
"Why not?"
I started rocking back and forth. "He's going to. . . you can't. . . it's over."
"What's over?" He came over and sat beside me. "Paige?"
I giggled. "He's not there."
"Who's not where? Have you taken something?"
"Un-uh," I sang.
He reached from my arm. Before I could pull it back, he saw the cut. "You're cutting again."
"I didn't do that!" I shouted. "I. . . I. . . it was him."
"Who?"
"Please go away now." I got on my bed and folded my arms across my chest.
"Paige," he said softly, coming over to me. I didn't want him so close to me. I reached down behind my bed where I had left a knife. I curled my fingers around it.
"Please go away now," I repeated. He came closer to me.
"What happened to you arm, Paige?" Closer and closer, he just kept coming.
"Please go away," I said again, this time, almost whimpering. He put his hand out to touch my arm.
"No!" I shouted, jumping up, brandishing the piece of glass.
"Okay," he said calmly, holding out a hand. "Paige, I'm going to back away from you, okay? But I need you to put down your knife."
I dropped the knife, then sat down, curled into a ball and started rocking back and forth.
"Dean's bad," I whispered. And I just whispered it again and again. . .
