Addison Montgomery Shepherd's Point of View
I sit in the empty bedroom on the floor, leaning against the baby pink walls. My knees pulled up to my chest. At some point while I was at the hospital Amelia and Mark had pulled the furniture out of this bedroom and painted it a faint shade of bubble gum pink. I think he always knew that I'd end up wanting her in the end. I was so stupid. So stubborn. I was still insistent on giving her up for adoption. I hadn't bought baby furniture or clothing yet. We hadn't even had a proper discussion about it until the day she died. There were no toys, no clothes. Nothing to indicate this room belonged to a beautiful little girl besides the now vomit worthy hue of pink on the walls.
"We have to paint it over." I tell Amelia.
"Are you sure?"
"I can't live in this house knowing that this pink room was meant to be hers. It's too much."
"Mark was right. You had decided to keep her."
"When I saw her, I knew that I wouldn't be able to let her go. The unknown is too scary, too big. I had to let her go anyway though. I'm not sure which is worse."
"Changing the paint color won't change that the room was going to be hers." Amelia says carefully. Something snaps inside of me when she says this. A hot rage boiling over.
"I can't stand this…" I stand up, and then face the wall. "Stupid…" I pull my fist back. "Pink…" I punch the wall as hard as I can. "Wall…I can't… I just can't." The drywall gives way and a hole forms. I punch the wall repeatedly several times more until I feel Amelia pulling me back. She may be tiny, but she is strong. I fight against her, trying to punch a few more holes in the wall, but my hand is bruised and swelling. I finally give in and slump against Amelia, ugly crying for what feels like an eternity before I am able to calm myself.
"Do you feel better now?" Amelia asks.
"No." I admit. "I dropped the charges against Derek. Mark is furious with me and refusing to speak to me. I am sure Derek will be released on bail anytime now and it's only a matter of time before…" I can't finish the sentence though. I was going to say before Derek finds me and kills me, but that seems like it is a little too dramatic. "Amelia, I don't know what's wrong with me. I love him. He's… he's Derek."
"I know you do." Amelia responds, sighing. I know she doesn't truly understand this. She has told me a million times over that she doesn't understand how I can love him after everything he's put me through. She chose me over her own brother. That's got to say something. She is not naïve enough to think that I am speaking of Mark. I love Mark. I do… I just…It's different.
"The paint and the rollers are in the closet." I say, gesturing towards the closed door. "A pastel green. The guy at the paint station said that it is meant to be soothing. I guess I could turn this room into a gym for Mark or a guest bedroom or something."
"Oh… you want to paint now? Like right now?" Amelia asks. "Lets get some ice on your hand first and see how you're feeling after the swelling has gone down a bit." She suggests. I shrug truly unenthused by this whole process. "We'll have to call someone to repair the wall first anyway." Amelia adds. She runs downstairs and then brings me an ice pack.
"It's not that bad. It' doesn't even hurt." I say, looking down at my hand, which is a brilliant shade of purple. I have the fleeting thought that it matches nicely with the pink of the bedroom walls. "I will call someone to repair the walls. We can paint tomorrow." I say. My cell phone rings, but I cannot bend my hand. Amelia answers and puts it on speaker phone.
"What in the hell were you thinking?" Derek screams from the other end of the phone.
"You are on speakerphone. Amelia is here." I warn him.
"Take me off speaker this instant." He demands, but Amelia shakes her head 'no' at me.
"I can't. There was an accident. I may have broken my hand." I say. "Amelia is holding the phone while I ice my hand."
"What happened?" He asks, and sounds concerned.
"It doesn't matter, I'm fine. What do you need?"
"You have to be more careful Addison. You're so clumsy. I'm afraid you really will hurt yourself."
"I know." I say carefully. "I will be. I promise."
"You promised that you'd drop the charges too."
"I did Derek, right after the visitation that day."
"Obviously you're lying. My lawyer visited today, and 'due to new evidence' my bail has been denied. I will be stuck here until the trial date."
"Derek, I'm sorry." I automatically apologize. "I don't know what they're talking about. There is no new evidence. Did she tell you what the evidence was?"
"No. She only said that they were keeping me."
"Is there anything I can do?" I ask, feeling horribly guilty, but secretly relieved that he will not be getting out of jail anytime soon. It strikes me then what they must be talking about. Before I left that day he pulled me into a hug and told me "I only hit you because I love you." They must have caught his words on the audio or video recordings. How had I forgotten about that? I am so used to him threatening me, so used to him hurting me that it is just another everyday interaction to me, but what if someone else heard.
"Get me out of here Addison." He says, before the phone beeps, letting us know that we only have five minutes left. "I really do love you Addison, you know that right?"
"Yeah… I know." I whisper.
"I'd do anything for you." He says, smoothly.
"You'd do anything for me, but you wouldn't stop hitting me." I say. These conversations are recorded. They play the automated recording at the beginning of every call.
"You know you deserved it. You know what you did Addison." He says, playing right into my hands. I wonder if they have him drugged in the jail? Is it really possible that he is just angry and didn't pay attention to the warning at the beginning of the call nor the posters hanging around the visitation and phone areas?
"You killed my daughter."
"She would have died anyway with a mother like you." He says, so aggressively that it physically hurts me.
"She died from complications associated with extreme prematurity. Her prematurity was a direct result of you assaulting me." I push him. "You caused me to go into pre-term labor. You knew exactly what you were doing when you injected me with those chemicals." I accuse. I am shaking so hard from a mixture of anger and fear that I am thankful I am not the one holding the phone. I would have dropped it.
"I didn't mean for any of this to happen." He says, unobtrusively.
"What did you want to happen?" I ask him, but my phone beeps then, letting me know that my time has passed, and the call disconnects. Amelia and I are both struck silent, looking at the phone for a long while.
"I'm so sorry Addie."
"For what?"
"I should have protected you. I should have warned you about Derek."
"Amelia no… sweetheart you were just a little girl when Derek and I got married. There is nothing that you could have done to make things turn out anyway other than they have."
"I was seventeen when we met. That's not so little." Amelia says. It seems like a lifetime ago. We bonded almost instantly. It was almost like we were always meant to be family. Amelia never did talk about growing up with Derek much. The good memories stop when she was five years old. When their father was shot for his watch in the store that he owned it changed Derek. I think back to the story she told me of when she was thirteen years old. Derek was home visiting from college and had taken her out for ice cream. They had gone to a secluded park that they used to play at when they were children. They climbed with their ice cream cones to the top of the jungle gym, and talked for a while. She doesn't remember what she said to set him off, or at least she never told me, but he pushed her, and she fell hard to the ground hitting her head on the way down. Derek calle when he realized that she was unresponsive. The ice cream she was eating laying next to her in a melting puddle. When she came to, he threatened to kill her if she told her mother, or anyone else the truth. When her mother got to the hospital Amelia lied and said she had been climbing one handed and slipped. Her mother scolded her for being so careless, but then soothed and comforted her. Derek left to return to school the next day. She didn't see him again until years later when he was a first-year medical school student and he brought me home to meet the family. I should have been a better role model for her. I know she looks up to me, she admires me more than she ever has Derek or any of her sisters. She had never told anyone else what really happened.
"Like I said, there is nothing you could have done to prevent this." I repeat, trying to relieve Amelia of some of the guilt I know that she must be feeling.
"Put the ice back on your hand." Amelia instructs. I give her an annoyed look but follow her instructions all the same. "I couldn't protect you then, but I can protect you now. You need to go to the emergency room. You need an x ray to determine if there are any breaks."
"I don't want to go to the emergency room. I just want this to be over. I want my job back. I want to go to sleep and never wake up. I just want to be done." I protest, wanting to punch myself next. I hate how pathetic and whiny my voice sounds.
"If you don't go, I'll call Mark, and he'll make you go."
"How?
"I can't pick you up and carry you, but I'd imagine he can, besides you can't get your job back if you suffer nerve damage from destroying your very expensive wall."
"Fine." I finally agree, trying to hide my annoyance. Amelia helps me up, grabbing our purses and a light jacket for me. It is so warm in the afternoons, but the evenings and mornings are still frigid, not to mention their personal goal to give all of the patients in the hospital acute hypothermia with the way the air conditioner is set. She drives us to the hospital, and neither of us make a sound until we are parked.
"What am I supposed to say?" I ask, timidly.
"Tell them you punched a wall." Amelia says shrugging. "The truth is usually easier to remember than lies."
"Knowing my past would you believe that if I told you it?" I ask her. Derek's abuse was no longer a huge secret from the hospital staff. I swallow hard. "I can't go in Amelia."
"What you mean we can't go in? I just drove you an hour across Seattle traffic to get you here…"
"I'm not going." I say, shaking my head stubbornly.
"You'll never operate again. From the looks of your hand, it's broken in at least two places."
"I don't care." My breathing is labored. I close my eyes tight and put my heads over my ears. I can't feel any pain from the break. It's not as bad as Amelia is thinking.
"Addison you do. You do care, you love your job."
"JUST STOP!" I shout, not to Amelia specifically, but to the images, the memories flashing before my eyes. Derek attacking me in the hospital bathroom. Derek drugging me. I massage my throat. For a minute I can still feel his fingers, pressing, cutting off my airflow. The preterm delivery of Jazlynn and the attack in the NICU. All of the surgeries that I have needed over the years and the bruises that I was forced to lie about, or cover up come back to me clear as day. My teeth are chattering, and I am shivering. I can feel tears falling down my cheeks.
"Addison…" Amelia starts, but despite feeling like I am screaming out to her I can't form the words. I am trapped, lost in the horrific memories of my past. "Addison I'm here. It's okay." She says, soothingly.
"STOP!" I scream again, but I know she cannot hear me. I wonder if my voice made any sound at all. I don't see the car, or Amelia. I see the entrance to the hospital and feel how tightly he would squeeze my arm as we walked into work for the day. How I knew to keep my breathing even and walk just so. I couldn't risk angering him. He always had to walk exactly one quarter of a step-in front of me. We could never be in sync. He had to show his dominance.
"Everything is going to be okay. Take a deep breath… I promise I'm here, you're safe."
"PLEASE JUST STOP!" Derek and I are in the on call room during one of our breaks. It wasn't the first time, nor would it be the last time he forced himself on me. For a while I scheduled my breaks opposite of his, but when he found out what I did he forced me to change them back. Stating that we needed to spend more quality time together. The memories are coming faster now, like a flurry of wind. Leaving with Mark and drinking myself into an oblivion. Finding out I was further along with the pregnancy and having a complete panic attack and trying to cut the fetus from my body, knowing that I would bleed to death as a result. Derek attacking me in the hospital room and drugging me. Derek tracking my ovulation and raping me to conceive our daughter. None of this is new behavior. None of this is shocking. So why is it effecting me so? I can smell his cologne; I can taste his mouth on mine. I can feel his warm breath in my ear, and it sends a shiver down my spine as I am back in the NICU, holding my seizing baby in my arms, pumping her full of medication, being sent from the room. I will never be safe from him.
"Addison?" Amelia tries again. "It's okay. You don't have to go in. I'm here. You're safe." She says, I rub my eyes, they come into focus. I blink at her, confused. She takes my hands in hers and squeezes them. "You're safe Addison."
"I'm sorry…. I'm sorry." I cry, confused, not able to put into words what just happened as exhaustion overwhelms me.
"Derek isn't here Addison." She says, gently. "You don't have to apologize to me. I think you may have PTSD. It's not something you can control."
"I want to die." I whisper. "I can't live like this anymore Amelia."
"I know you don't want to live like this, but you have to. You're not leaving me on this sorry earth without you. We made a pact Addison. We took a blood oath."
"We were drunk." When Amelia was eighteen, she overdosed on prescription pain killers. She says it was an accident, but something tells me it was anything but. She came to stay with us for a while after her mother kicked her out. We were young, we were stupid, so stupid. We reasoned that it was safer for her to drink with us than to be out partying. Derek reasoned that she was eighteen damn years old. She was legally old enough to get married or join the military. She was old enough to smoke. She should be allowed to drink, if she wants. We didn't realize that we were essentially giving a drug addict another way to channel her addiction into. We didn't realize just how deep her addiction ran.
"That doesn't make it any less valid. You're my big sister Addie. I need you." Amelia says, her voice suddenly so small, concerned, like a child seeking reassurance from their mother after being scolded. My mind plays tricks on me, flashing back to the time that Amelia lived with us. To the first time she saw him lay his hands on me and could have lost her life as a result.
FLASHBACK
I never saw him hit her. I never heard him raise his voice to her, or even speak an unkind word about her. I had no reason not to leave them alone together. I was called in last minute. I was working clinical. I could hear them screaming from the street. He was yelling at her about how useless she was, sitting at home all day, listening to her CD player and getting high when really, she should be getting a job and helping with the bills around this place. He told her she was fat and accused her of eating up all of the food in the house without even lifting a finger to wash a dish. I walk into the brownstone just as she retorts back something smart assed and he slaps her hard across the face. Before he even realizes that I have entered the room he picks her up by her throat, threatening that if she ever spoke to him that way again he'd snap her neck. He realizes that I am home early and drops her hard to the ground, pushing off as he lets go. She falls to the ground in a heap next to my feet, whimpering like a wounded animal.
"Addie!" She cries, getting up quickly and moving behind me, like I am in some way going to be able to protect her from her big brother.
"What the hell Derek?" I scream. I move towards him and hit him with my purse. He insists I keep a cement brick in my purse incase I need to protect myself from a mugger or something. I guess he never thought I'd use it against him.
"She is an ungrateful little bitch." He replies angrily, turning on me, and hitting me hard. Amelia gasps, and moves backwards into the corner, curling herself into a ball.
"That might be so, but she's a kid Derek. Kids are stupid. She's your little sister and you could have killed her!" I haven't let learned the lesson that Derek has been trying so hard to teach me, submission. I haven't yet learned that keeping my mouth shut makes the beatings less severe.
"I didn't kill her."
"You will keep your hands off of her Derek." I mandate. "You promised your mother that you'd protect her."
"What are you going to do if I don't? Maybe she's been sent here as my new playtoy, you are getting pretty boring. You don't even put up a good fight I can just…" He slaps me hard across the face like he did Amelia. I don't move. I don't wince, or cry. "You do nothing, you're so irrelevant Addison."
"Keep your hands off of her, or I will kill you myself." I promise him. I know that there will be repercussions tonight when Amelia has taken her sleeping medication and is dead to the world, and cannot hear us, but I'll take it. She's okay now. He gives us both a look of disgust and then storms out the door. I drop down to the ground next to Amelia, helping her up.
"I'm so sorry Amy." I soothe her. "I'm sorry."
"He hit you." She whimpers in response. We go into the kitchen, and I pour us both a drink. I take a long deep drink as if this were just an average Tuesday. I had Amelia her drink and then we go up to the guest bedroom where Amelia had been sleeping. I don't want to go to my bedroom, and the living room and kitchen seem too… open.
"Please stay with me." Amelia requests. "I scared. What if he comes back?"
"This isn't the first time, is it?" I ask her, and Amelia looks down ashamed.
"No, but I have a feeling this isn't your first time either." She says.
"How long?" I ask her.
"You're first. You're older."
"Since the wedding." I say, quietly.
"He changed after our father died." She admits.
"Oh sweetheart." I whisper. Amelia leans against me, and for a moment we are silent.
"I wanted to die." Amelia admits. "I took the drugs because I wanted to die. I lied to my mother. I lied to the doctors. Today Derek was mad because I have been stealing money from him. I've been self-medicating with weed and alcohol. It helps me escape."
"I'm worried about you Amelia. You've been through more than any eighteen-year-old should have to face. I didn't think he would ever hurt you, Amelia. You have to know that. If I would have known, I would have… I wouldn't have let you come here."
"I didn't have anywhere else to go Addison. I would have been out on the streets. Please don't make me leave." She begs. "My sisters hate me; my mother think I am a drug addicted loser and I…" She falls silent. She drinks the rest of the drink down in one gulp. "I need help, dealing with this. I don't know what to do Addison. You have to promise me something." She says the last bit with such a forceful tone that I am taken aback momentarily. How can two people be so alike and so different at the same time?
"Okay." I say. "What is it? You know I'd do anything for you. You're my kid sister. I love you."
"Promise me that you'll never leave me. We're a team, right?" She asks, sounding more like a five-year-old than the young adult that she is.
"I promise, but Amelia…" There is still the very real situation that I am in a relationship with Derek. I can't just not die if my time comes.
"No, Addison no buts. You promised."
"I know, but it's important Amelia. I need you to promise me the same thing. You're not leaving this sorry earth without me. I'm here now, and I know what's going on. We can get you out of this, together. You're not getting rid of me that easily."
"How?" Amelia demands. "I have nowhere to go. I have no one Addison."
"I promise." Amelia whispers. She's so young. She's innocent. She still believes in magic and fairy tales.
"Just give me a couple of days Amelia. I'll come up with a plan. I just need a couple of days."
"Okay."
"You're safe. I promise. I can keep you safe."
"That's all fine and good, but whose going to keep you safe?" She asks me, as her eyes grow heavy, and she falls asleep in my arms. I don't speak again; I just hold her until I hear Derek coming in the front door downstairs. I scoot away from her and help her to lay down. I grab a blanket and cover her, tucking her in like a mother would a small child before turning off the light and shutting the door. I know that if I don't go downstairs everything will be so much worse, and so I go, walking lightly down the old wooden staircase.
"What happened today can never happen again. You will apologize to Amelia first thing in the morning, and you will keep your hands off of her." I say, walking into the kitchen and pouring myself a second drink.
"Why should I do you any favors?" He asks, throwing his drink back just as smoothly as Amelia had done earlier.
"You should because I am your wife, and I am asking you nicely."
"You would never hurt me." He taunts.
"You don't know the half of what I am capable of." I say, sounding more confident than I feel. "We are paying for her to go to rehab. I tell her in the morning. I have connections. It's a great program Derek. They have a bed for her."
"You want to send her to some fancy rehab and not let her die on the streets like the rat she is?"
"She has so much potential Derek. She just needs to shut up. She needs to listen, and she needs to get clean. No more alcohol. No more drugs. Do you really believe her when she says she's only been smoking a little weed? If I had to guess she's on pills. Probably oxy. I just didn't want to see it before. I wanted to believe she was okay so badly."
"You can pay for her treatment out of your bank account."
"Thank you."
"You have to do something for me though."
"Okay…"
"You're going to go upstairs. You're going to go to the bedroom and get ready for bed." He says calmly. "You're going to wear the navy-blue underwear teddy. You are going to be submissive. You are not going to keep up this ridiculous behavior. If I hear even a single complaint out of you I will kill you, and your little stray upstairs" His voice is so calm, so chilling that I begin to cry.
"Anything…we can do whatever you want. Please just keep your hands off of Amelia. She's just a kid Derek. This cannot be her story. This story will ruin her for the rest of her life."
"She is safe, as long as you preform." He says, his words purring sickly like a tiger.
"I said I'll do whatever you want." I say, a little too quickly. As long as he never touches Amelia again, as long as she does not have to endure anymore abuse at his hands.
"Go to the bedroom and get ready for bed. I'll be upstairs in a few minutes." He repeats his request and I say "Okay." before bowing my head, submissively, and walking off to the bedroom, knowing that whatever Derek has in mind is not going to be anything good.
"I can't believe you're kicking me out!" Amelia exploded the next morning. I had helped her pack her suitcase as soon as Derek left for work. "This isn't what I thought you meant when you promised me that you have a plan. We were supposed to do this together!"
"Hey…" I say, calming her. "We will still do this together Amelia. I just need you to be brave. I need you to go first this time. I am giving you an escape." She looks at me confused. I hand her the keys to my car.
"You're giving me Armani?" She asks me.
"I'm due for an upgrade anyway."
"Addison you can't. This car is not even a year old yet."
"It's not my style. It suits you better." I say with a smile.
"Derek will be mad."
"He knows I hate this car. Just take it. I had everything transferred online. It's in your name now. We are going to take a little road trip. We are going to drive to the rehab center, and you are going to check yourself in."
"How long?"
"Six months."
"Addison…" She breathes my name. she looks terrified.
"I need to know that you're safe. I can't breathe knowing you're in that house. You're going to be fine. Amelia… you are brave. You are strong and you can get through this."
"Even if I make it through I'll be homeless when I get out."
"No, you won't." I say. "I will pay your rent and utilities while you find a job or attend university after you get out. I just need to know that you're safe."
"What about you?" She asks, her voice trembling as she puts her suitcase in the trunk. "How will I know that you're safe?"
"I'll come visit you every weekend." I promise her. "I'm not abandoning you, Amelia. This is just something that has to happen, for your own wellbeing."
"You think I'm crazy."
"No." I admit. "I think you've been coping in the very best way that you know how and now you need help figuring out better strategies."
"I don't want you to stay with him."
"I love him, Amelia."
"You say that you love me, but you don't hurt me." Amelia says.
"No, why would I hurt you?"
"Derek says he loves you, but he hurts you."
"Yes. He does say that."
"So, which one is real?" She asks, getting in the passenger's side of the car and slumping down. "You can't have two realities Addison."
"You're my little sister. I love you enough to let you go. I love you enough to help you escape because I know that you're going to do amazing things with your life. You are going to thrive once you've gotten some help. I know that he's not going to come after you like he would come after me if I left. You have to go first Amy. I am pushing you out of the nest. It's time you spread your wings and fly."
END FLASHBACK