"Rose, is that you?" my mother called from the kitchen.

I shut the door silently behind me.

"Yeah," I responded in as strong a voice as I could manage, hoping she wouldn't come to meet me at the door. I stepped slowly, trying to prevent as much pain in my body as possible, as I tried to make my way toward my room.

Our house was pretty small but my room suddenly seemed so far away.

I hoped to get by the kitchen without my mother seeing me but the second I stepped on a squeaky floor board passing the kitchen, I cringed, and turned around to find my mother watching me from where she stood near the sink, a beer poised in midair as if she was about to take a drink.

Beer.

I'd seen enough beer for the rest of my life.

My mother drank all my life and I was use to it but suddenly the drink and the sight of it in her hand disgusted me.

I watched as she slowly lowered the beer, setting it on the counter as she made her way near me, her eyes taking in my appearance. I could only imagined what I looked like.

"Rosemarie Hathaway, what the hell happened to you?"

I had answer but I couldn't say it aloud. My throat closed with dryness and my mouth clamped shut. I couldn't even meet my mother's familiar hazel eyes. She was right in front of me now, and I flinched as she reached for my hair. She noticed my flinch but kept reaching, running her hands through my hair, worry clear in her eyes.

"Where have you been? What happened to you?" She asked again. She tilted my chin up a bit and I flinched again. It hurt. Everything hurt.

I had an answer for both of her questions but I couldn't say it.

All I wanted to do was cry. Fall into a deep, dark hole, and cry until I stopped breathing.

"Rosemarie, please, answer me," she whispered holding me at arms length to look me over. Her voice was cracking now as it dawned on her all the possibilities of what might've happened to me tonight. I could see her hazel eyes filling with tears, mirroring my own. "Rosemarie, please, tell me...did Adrian have something to do with this?"

Silent tears fell from my eyes as I flinched at the mention of his name. Her eyes widened and she lifted her hand to her lips. "A-Adrian..."

I imagined myself shaking, nodding, and sobbing all at once as I fell into her arms as she held me and told me everything would be okay, watching her fall apart at the realization of what happened to her daughter. I couldn't do that to her. I couldn't tell her. She'd been through enough already.

Abandoned by the man who was supposed to be the love her life after having me, losing her mom last year, losing one of her jobs and having to work on and off in weird bars or waitressing or cleaning. Her last bit of hope was having a daughter who seemed happy, seemed like she was going to make it was all she had left and I couldn't take that away from her.

Her plate was already full. I didn't need to add to it.

If I told her about what happened tonight, she'd blame herself, she'd go after them even knowing how powerful they were in this small town she'd try to have them punished and she'd lose and our lives would only get worse.

So I lied.

I took a deep breath, cleared my throat, and lied.

"I just...didn't really feel like partying anymore s-so I left and walked home. I took th-that short cut you tell me not to take and some guy mugged me."

She held her hand to her heart as some of the worry disappeared. Being mugged was bad but not as bad as some of things she was thinking happened, not as bad as what really happened.

"Are you okay? Did he-"

"No," I said firmly. "He j-just took my bag."

I realized just then that this lie could work because I actually didn't have my bag. It was still there. Still at that house.

She let out a deep sigh of relief, holding me to her. "Honey, I'm so sorry you had to go through that but I'm glad you're okay. Did he hurt you? Hit you?" She asked.

"H-he hit me only when he heard a car coming and I stumbled and...rolled down the side of that hill," I continued to lie, hoping she'd mistake my stuttering and hesitation for shock. "I...I'm fine."

And I wanted to be. I had to be fine.

I decided right then that I was going to be fine whether it was true or not, figuring I'd get better eventually and really start believing it.

"Oh, sweetheart," she breathed hugging me tighter and I flinched at the pain flowing through my body but she didn't notice. "I wish I had enough money to buy you that cellphone so I could've come to pick you up. I wish you hadn't walked home but I guess things could've been worse. I'm so happy you're okay."

We pulled back far enough for her to smile down at me, touching my face along where I could feel the bruise on my cheek. "This looks pretty bad. Come on, let's go," she said reaching for her keys and her jacket behind me.

"G-go where?"

"The hospital first and then to the police."

I was already shaking my head even as she made her way to the door, ushering me in front of her. "N-no I'm fine. Really mom. I just want to go lie down. H-he didn't get much. All I had was lip gloss and a few bucks in my purse."

"Rosemarie, this guy could be dangerous. He could hurt someone else and you need to be looked at by a doctor so let's go."

I skidded my feet to halt.

I couldn't go to a doctor. They'd know. They'd know what happened and I didn't want anyone to know. No one could know. I was fine. I'm fine.

"N-no please, I just want to forget about it. I just want to go lie down and sleep," I said honestly.

My mother looked torn between letting her daughter rest and forcing me to go to the police and hospital.

"You'd be doing a good thing by reporting this and you'd feel better. I'd feel better knowing one less creep is off the streets."

This wasn't an argument I was going to win. If I went now and got it over with, I could be home and asleep sooner. Home, shower, sleep. I let her lead me to the car and faster than I could come up with what to say to the police and doctors, if I could remember the lies I told my mother, we were at the hospital.

My mother went to the front desk to talk to someone while I stood a little ways back, looking at some of the other people in the waiting room. It was almost completely empty except one woman who looked bruised, battered, and broken sitting alone in the corner.

Just like me.

I looked away from her before I started to cry.

My mother returned a second later with a doctor in green scrubs, a nurse, and a cop right behind her.

"We got lucky," my mother told me as she let the hospital staff and the cop lead us to one of the curtained off rooms. "There was a cop already here. Apparently it's been a pretty busy bad night in out little town."

She had no idea.

I sat on the cot as stiff as a board as the doctor looked me over, giving me a check up, and the nurse cleaned my wounds.

"I'm officer Alto. Do you remember me?" he asked.

I took another good look at him and hit me. He was the cop from two weeks ago, who I went to talk to and make the report about. I nodded barely. He watched me for a second longer.

"You're mother said you were mugged earlier this evening."

I managed to nod again at the tall lanky cop.

"Can you describe what happened?"

I looked at my mother who stood against the wall smiling softly at me, encouragingly. I just had to tell the lie one more time and it'd be over. I'd be fine, I could go home, shower, sleep.

I started with the same short story I recapped for my mom adding that I didn't really get a good look at the guy. The cop, Officer Alto, pushed me to remember anything and I did, I remembered everything.

The smell of beer, the bright moonlight through the window, the heavy weight of them holding me down, the sound of their laughter and my heavy heard beat and cries, the taste of my own blood where I bit my tongue.

I remembered it all. That wasn't the story I told them though.

I gave them the fake story, the story that I wanted to be real, where I was a little hurt but I was okay. I'm fine. And they believed me. They mistook my stuttering and trembling as being shaken up but they thought I was okay, a little frightened still, but okay. Maybe I could pretend better than I thought. If I could lie to them about what happened, I could lie to myself.

I'm fine.

The worst question was when they asked if he in anyway forced himself on me, hurt me in anyway beside hitting me hard enough to knock me down the hillside.

It took me longer to answer than it had the other questions but I got through it. The doctors bought it, the cop bought it. I didn't think they would've believed me if it wasn't so late and they didn't look so tired as I did.

When I looked at my mom though, she was staring at me, squinting, like she knew something was off about everything I was saying but she didn't call me out on it. She just stared at me questioningly.

Finally the officer finished. "Well, We'll keep a look out for the guy but I'll be honest with you, it's not much to go on."

I wasn't worried.

"You don't think this has something to do with Rose's report from two weeks ago, do you?" My mother asked worriedly.

I had the answer to that: yes.

"You're daughter doesn't seem to think so and unless there's evidence to prove it, I'd like to think it's unrelated," he answered, although he didn't seem so certain. "I do recommend not walking home so late by yourself anymore. It's dangerous and you could be seriously hurt. Make sure someone drives you home or at least take public transportation where there're others around."

I shuttered at the word 'hurt'. None of them noticed. My might've but I resisted the urge to look at her again to see. The officer stepped closer and lowered his head.

"I know it's been a little hard for you since...well, you know."

I knew. I was just trying to forget. I was trying to forget what I did two weeks ago and I was trying to forget what happened tonight.

"I recommend you take a self defense class. It helps and it might ease some of your mother's fears when you're out alone," he said, writing in his notepad.

"That's a good idea," my mother put in, wrapping her arms around me. "You should take a self defense class."

The cop gave her an address of one of the only self defense classes in town. "The teacher use to be a former cop but he was hurt on the job and now he teaches self defense. His mother can vouch for him," Officer Alto said gesturing to the doctor who was writing on her own charts.

The woman looked up. She looked like one of those motherly women that baked cookies and smother her children to death. She was nothing like I expected to see in a doctor. Her nametag read 'Belikov'. Her eyes were warm and her hair had a few streaks of gray. When she spoke, her accent came out as what sounded like Russian.

"My son's a good teacher," she said, pride filling her face.

I didn't want to hurt her feelings but I really didn't care how amazing this self defense teacher was. I just wanted to go home, shower, sleep. I'm fine. It'd be harder to forget if I went to a class that was going to constantly remind me why I was there.

Her pride change to sympathy as she looked me in the eyes, her brown ones staring directly into mine. "I heard about what you did two weeks ago and I know it's been hard but you'll get though it. Thing's I'll get better."

Her words should've been comforting to me but it's what a lot of people were telling me lately and things definitely weren't better. Especially not after tonight. I could name a lot more people who would disagree with her but I took the sentiment and nodded slightly.

"Just go see my son. He'll teach you to defend yourself well. He'll have you kicking butt, a really fighting machine, in no time," she smiled reassuringly at me and then at my mother.

"That sounds good to me. "

"Yes, you should really take the class and it won't cost you a cent. He believes that self defense is something everyone should know and shouldn't cost a thing. Go to the class," she said again.

I was ready to say 'no', to come up with a reason but mother was looking at me in such a way that said all her worries would disappear if I said 'yes'. I could get away with this, with this lie. I'd be fine. I am fine.

Everyone was waiting for me to respond.

"Okay, I'll go."