Signed, Anonymous
Chapter Three:
Conversations

Peter spent the night drowning in his dreams. It was a repeat performance of the former night, and the night before that. The gun had appeared at the exact same moment as it had each time before that. Everything was exactly the same. He had jolted upright just as Ruthie was about to declare her love to him on the park bench. The only thing that was different, the only thing, was the time it had taken him to relive it. Last night, he had awoken at 5:38. Tonight, it was 3:30.

He sat, now, at his desk, tapping his fingers on the hard, cool, wood. There was no way that he could go back to sleep - even if he wanted to. His dream was so intense, it was like he was actually there. Every single detail had seemed so real. Even the faceless man, who stood in as Colton Hunter.

At the thought of Ruthie's kidnapper-turned-rapist, Peter cringed. He didn't even know the guy, and he hated him. Hated him with a flaming passion.

If Hunter ever gets out of prison, I'll kill him, Peter thought, his inner voice seething. The second that bastard steps out into the light of day, I'll shoot him.

Peter sighed. This was terrible. He was succumbing to his anger. Getting worked up like this was no good. Being this angry was sure to put him in a rehabilitation center for sure. He had to do something. Something that would help him get over this. Ruthie's secret wasn't helping. If she wasn't going to tell her family about what happened to her, she shouldn't have told him. Perhaps if she had at least told her parents, they could have helped share the burden. Instead, she dropped it all on him.

Oh, stop it. Ruthie's doing what she can. It's just going to take time.

Time, time, time is what is going to drive you insane. You can't continue to live like this.

Tell the Camdens. You have to tell the Camdens.

No! Ruthie has to tell them.

Bologna! It's not going to matter who tells them, just as long as they know.

Now you're just being selfish.

Peter groaned. Arguing with himself wasn't going to solve anything. It was just ridiculous. He put his head in his hands, feeling a headache coming on. Nothing was going to make him feel any better. Not unless Ruthie told her parents about the rape.

He sat up straight and took a deep breath. Making Ruthie tell her parents was the only way. The only way.

"Ruthie. Ruthie. Ruthie!" Lucy had been attempting to wake up her sister for the past five minutes. It was already past noon, and Ruthie seemed determined to sleep through the rest of the day, but Lucy was determined to wake her up.

Lucy pinched Ruthie's nostrils together, just long enough for the girl to stir.

"Finally!" Lucy exclaimed, throwing her arms up and letting them fall to her sides. She had her hands on her hips and was staring down at Ruthie, her face lacking her regular smile.

Ruthie just stared at her, annoyed. She rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.

"No, no, no. Enough. It's the middle of the day!" Lucy objected and rolled Ruthie back over.

"Leave me alone," Ruthie grumbled.

This was very unlike her.

"Why are you being such a grump?" Lucy demanded, now pulling the covers back.

Reaching for her blankets, Ruthie retorted, "I'm tired."

"How is that humanly possible? You went to bed at nine last night, and you've slept most of this day away." Ruthie looked unfazed. "And you aren't sick," Lucy added.

Ruthie sat up and sighed. "You are aware that everyone in church was talking about me yesterday when Dad told them about that letter?" A tear slipped down Ruthie's face.

Completely unprepared for this conversation, Lucy took a seat next to her sister. She remembered what she felt when she heard those rumors. Not a one of them was nice. They were all judgmental and mean. And they were all about Ruthie and her family.

Unable to find any words to comfort her sister at that time, Lucy embraced Ruthie for a long while. As she pulled away, she kissed the crown of Ruthie's head, and told her that she loved her.

"I'm going back to bed," Ruthie announced and flopped back onto her pillows.

Now knowing why her sister was so depressed, Lucy didn't object. Instead, she helped pull the blankets back over her body. She exited the room slowly, pausing at the doorway to look back.

"I'm sorry, Ruthie," she whispered, more to herself than anyone, then left the room.

Just as Lucy was coming down the front stairs, the doorbell rang. Pulling back the curtains, Lucy saw who stood outside: Peter. She opened the door to greet him.

"Hey, Peter. Is there something I could do for you?" she asked.

"Actually," he began. "I was hoping that I could talk to Ruthie."

Lucy was noticing the bags under Peter's eyes when she realized what he had just said. "I'm sorry, Ruthie's still in bed."

Peter's brow furrowed as he checked his watch. "Is she sick?"

Lucy sighed. "No, just depressed."

Peter looked down at his feet. "It's about what happened at church yesterday, isn't it?" He looked up at her expectantly.

All she could do was nod.

"Do you think I could just talk to her for a second? It's really important."

Lucy shrugged. "I guess. Maybe you could even convince her to get out of bed sometime today."

As Lucy stepped aside to let him inside, Peter said, "I'll try, but you know how Ruthie makes her mind up about something and nothing in the world will get her to change her decision."

"Yeah," Lucy agreed, as she and Peter ventured up the stairs.

There was a knock at Ruthie's door.

"Ruthie...," Lucy called, putting a hand on her sister's shoulder.

"Go away," Ruthie mumbled.

"Peter's here." Lucy had to lean back to avoid getting bashed in the head as Ruthie sat bolt upright. "And be nice," she said as she left the room.

Ruthie glared after her sister.

"Hi," he greeted her.

Ruthie softened her gaze as she turned to Peter. "Hi."

Peter chuckled as he came closer.

"What?" Ruthie asked, finding it a bit offensive that Peter was laughing at her when she hadn't intended him to.

Peter had taken a seat next to her. He was reaching for her hair. When he had smoothed it out, he tucked it behind her ear, his fingers brushing against her warm skin.

"It was sticking up."

"Yeah. Thanks." She found herself smiling.

They sat in silence for almost a whole two minutes. Ruthie moved to where she was sitting side by side with her boyfriend. She cleared her throat.

"So, I was thinking," Peter began, but stopped.

"You were thinking about..."

Peter turned to look at her completely, not just out of the corner of his eye. He took her hands in his and started again.

"Ruthie, I dream about you every night."

Her eyebrows rose.

"I dream that you what happened to you...didn't. In my dreams I save you from Colton Hunter. I save you from being raped."

Ruthie ripped her hands away from him and stood. "Shh! What if someone hears you?!"

Peter got to his feet. He put gently grabbed Ruthie's shoulders and tried to elaborate. "Ruthie, in my dream, I save you. Every single night, I save you. Not when it counted, of course, but in my dreams...I save you."

Ruthie was beginning to feel her blood boil. She did not want to talk about this. Especially not in her house when everyone was home!

Peter, sensing her anger, continued, "Ruthie I know you're in pain, unbelievable pain." He removed his hands and stepped back, for what he was about to say, may cause him physical pain. "You have to tell your family."

"Get out!" Ruthie screamed, pointing a finger at her door. "Leave. Now."

Peter stayed rooted to the spot. "I can't do that, Ruthie."

She huffed. "Fine, I'll leave." Ruthie spun on her heels and fled the room.

"Ruthie!" Peter called following her. Finally catching up with her, he grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop in the second floor hallway. "Listen to me."

Her face was red with anger. In fact, she was close to tears. "Let go of me," she spat.

"You have to tell your family."

"No, I don't. What they don't know won't hurt them."

"Ruthie, I'm begging you, and you know I don't beg." Ruthie's eyes narrowed. "Like I said, I know you're in pain, but not telling your family won't help you. You'll be in pain forever."

Ruthie said nothing, and he knew that he was reaching her on some level.

"If you don't say anything, I will."

"No!" Ruthie was hysterical. "You can't tell them! You can't!"

All this time, they thought they were alone. For most of it, they were, but Simon had come out of his room. He had heard Ruthie's voice, and she was obviously upset.

"Can't tell who what?" Simon asked, glancing from his little sister to her boyfriend. An uncomfortable pause followed his question, and he was certain that he wasn't going to get an answer.

Peter sighed, and looked into Ruthie's pleading eyes. "No, I won't tell them. You will. Let them help you. See you, Ruthie." He turned and descended the stairs, leaving Ruthie and Simon alone in the hallway.

"Are you okay...?" Simon asked Ruthie when the front door opened and closed.

Ruthie threw a piercing glare at her brother and screeched, "I just want to be left alone!" She spun on her heels and stomped all the way up to her room, slamming the door behind her.

Before he could leave, Simon saw Lucy running up the stairs.

"Did Peter just leave?" Lucy asked him.

"Yeah." Simon nodded and shoved his hands into the depths of his pockets. "Seemed kind of hurt, though."

"Ugh, I told her to be nice!" Lucy exclaimed, looking in the direction of the attic stairwell.

"You told her- What is going on?" Simon demanded, feeling completely behind times.

Lucy took hold of Simon's arm and pulled him to his room. "Let's talk."