Disclaimer: Belongs to S. Meyer. Not me. I just like traumatising the characters and making stories out of the results.
This is a one shot of what would have happened if Rosalie had figured out the hidden meaning to Edward's words in the flashback in Chapter 10.
Enjoy!
Rosalie
I couldn't sleep.
Feeling the way I was, thinking the way I was, I didn't think I'd ever be able to sleep again.
Every time I closed my eyes, even to blink, I could see him there, standing over me, that sickening grin on his face and that nauseating look in his eye. Who knew what he was on? But there was one thing I did know: what he was going to do to me.
If James Walker hadn't been walking down the same street at that time, he would have done it as well. Even though he said that he wouldn't have been able to live with himself if he hadn't done anything and didn't want anything in return, I knew I owed James everything now. I could even forgive him for grabbing my ass a few months ago. He had saved me. And to me, that was all that mattered.
Looking around the room, I couldn't help the small sob that escaped me. This was the room I was 'supposed' to stay in when I stayed over the Cullens. I was sure that Esme and Carlisle knew this wasn't the case, but they hadn't said anything to Emmett, myself or my parents (which I was very thankful for) so I knew that they weren't too bothered about my staying in Emmett's room.
I couldn't stay with him last night though. I wanted to, I truly did, but I couldn't. I didn't want anyone near me. The look in his eye when I pushed him away as he tried to comfort me told me that I was hurting him with my actions, but I couldn't help it. I didn't want anyone (especially anyone male) near me at the moment.
I wasn't sure where the others were. I had asked to be alone for the moment. I couldn't hear them in the house at all, so I surmised that they had gone out.
I jumped slightly when someone knocked lightly on the door and I shook my head, trying to get my thoughts lined up.
"Come in." I called, but I knew it wasn't nearly loud enough. The door opened slowly, revealing the last person I expected and to be honest, not really someone I wanted to see at the moment. I couldn't deal with his attitude at the moment. "What do you want?" My tone was harsh, but I really couldn't care.
Edward was still as he took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment as if he was warring with himself over what to say. As if he'd had any trouble before now. "I just came to see if you were all right."
I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me, knowing it sounded condescending and patronising to my own ears and most likely his. "Right." My tone was dripping with sarcasm as he stood there, watching me closely as though waiting for anything out of the ordinary. Excuse me, dickwad. If you paid attention to anyone other than your own sorry ass, you might know that nothing is ordinary anymore. "Since when do you care, Edward? Oh right, you don't. You used to. But the Edward that came back from Port Angeles in the summer isn't the one that we all used to know. All used to love. He's gone and I hate his replacement."
I didn't miss the hurt in his expression as he stood there and took my barrage of insults. Whatever. He'd been an asshole to all of us and what did he expect? That we'd all just roll over at take his attitude? Not fucking likely. He wasn't looking at me anymore, instead, staring at the carpet as though it held the answers to all of life's problems. I couldn't bring myself to worry about his feelings at the moment. From what I'd seen, he'd disregarded ours lately, so why should we be civil to him? Call me childish, but that's the way I rolled.
"I just wanted to say I'm sorry for what happened to you, Rose." His tone was soft, gentle and genuine. It was clear that he knew what had almost happened to me last night. How, I wasn't sure because he had spent all of last night and today holed up in his room, but still . . . he knew. "And that, better than anyone . . . I understand."
What the fuck?
Before I could say anything about that last comment, he was gone, closing the door softly behind him as he exited the room.
He understood?
How the fuck could he understand?
I shook my head and leaned back on the bed, closing my eyes and trying to will away the images that swirled in my mind, wanting, no needing, to get some sleep.
Walking down the street, I knew that something wasn't right. I kept feeling eyes watching me, but turning around to look, there was no one there. I quickened my pace before I heard something happening just around the corner.
I took a few steps forward before concealing myself in the shadow of a building upon hearing several men laughing and jeering, seeming jovial about 'giving it to him good'. I sucked in a deep breath, keeping quiet as they passed me, realising that they must have beaten someone up if they were talking like that.
Once I knew that they were gone, I rushed in the direction they had come from, stopping short when I saw what they had been congratulating each other on.
There was a man . . . no a boy lying in the middle of the alleyway they had come from. He couldn't have been any older than me. He was laying there, half naked, broken and bleeding, shallow, ragged breaths escaping him, a small sob mixed in every few seconds.
I could see from where I was, in the dimmed light that there was a lot of blood. Enough to make me feel slightly woozy and normally I was quite good when dealing with blood. It was Bella that was the wuss.
I made my way over to him, taking out my phone and kneeling down, dialling 911 as I reached out to touch him. There was something familiar about him, but I couldn't place it.
"Hold on." I said softly, placing a hand gently on his arm. He flinched away from my touch, but I kept my hand on his arm, hopefully portraying the message that I would be getting him to safety soon enough. "I'm calling an ambulance. You're safe now. You'll be okay soon." I kept my voice as low and soft as possible, trying not to scare him even more than he already was.
I shuffled around, hoping to get a look at his face, dropping my phone when I saw who it was and his injuries that were oh so familiar.
His right arm was outstretched, his hand bloodied and mangled, obviously broken. His face was covered in blood, pouring from his nose, which was bent at an odd angle, signalling a break there as well.
But through all of the blood I instantly knew who it was.
Edward.
My eyes flew open and I registered a pair of arms around me. I tried to push them away, but they clung on tighter than before.
"Ssh, Rose, calm down. It was just a dream." I looked up to see Bella sitting there, her eyes wide with fear and glistening with tears. "It was just a dream, Rose."
I pushed away from her, climbing out of the bed, stopping when I saw the others there too. Emmett was looking at me, his eyes wide with fear, his posture stating that he wanted to hold me but his knowledge telling him he shouldn't.
"I need . . . I need to go and talk to Edward." I said softly and all of their expressions turned to confusion. "Please move." I looked at Emmett and Jasper, who stood there, their expressions a mixture of confusion and defiance.
"What do you want to talk to him for?" Emmett's tone was disbelieving as I raised my eyes to look at him.
"I can't explain right now, Em. Please." I looked at him, my giant teddy bear, who was clearly wondering what comfort seeing Edward could do for me and not knowing how to respond. "There's something I need to find out."
"We'll come with-"
"No." I shook my head, knowing that Alice was going to say they'd come with me, but I knew that if they did, I would never be able to find out if my assumption was true. I hoped to God that it wasn't, but there was only one way I would ever be sure. "This is something I need to do on my own. Please stay here."
I moved around Jasper and Emmett, hating that I couldn't be near either of them at the moment. I was scared of my own brother at the moment, and that thought made me sick. I should never be scared of Jasper.
I closed the door behind me, hopefully signalling to them that I needed to this alone before climbing the stairs that lead to Edward's room on the third floor.
Stopping outside his room, I took a deep breath and knocked quietly. I didn't hear any kind of movement from inside so I knocked again.
"Edward?" I called softly, hoping he would open the door. "It's Rose."
After a moment, I heard movement and the lock clicked, signalling that he'd opened the door. I grasped the door handle, opening it slowly to see him sitting on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands, his fingers clenched in his hair.
He looked broken as he sat there.
I closed the door quietly and walked over to him, sitting next to him.
"When you said that you . . . understood . . ." I took a deep breath, closing my eyes, feeling a tear run down my cheek. "You had someone try to do it to you too, didn't you?"
"No." He whispered, and my eyes snapped open. No! What the fuck? Then what the hell was the 'I understand' bullshit about? "They didn't try."
What the- "Oh my God." My hand flew to my mouth as I looked at him, knowing that what I had seen in my dream was in fact reality. "Oh, Edward." I felt more tears spill down my cheeks as his own started to fall. "You mean . . . Oh, God." I let my head drop into my hands as his words registered in my mind.
Edward had been raped.
I looked over at him and saw tears streaming down his face. His hands were still in his hair, his elbows resting on his knees as sobs wracked through his body. I shuffled closer to him, tentatively reaching out and wrapping my arms around him, thankful that there wasn't anything from last night flashing through my mind. Freaking out on Edward wouldn't be the right thing. It seemed that my mind was pushing all thoughts of my own ordeal aside, knowing that Edward needed me and my comfort right now.
He stiffened momentarily, clearly not expecting my reaction before relaxing into my embrace. His arms made their way around my waist as his forehead rested on my shoulder.
I could feel my heart breaking as I held him. He seemed so fragile and lost and I wondered how long he'd kept this locked up inside him. He hadn't let anyone know what had happened to him. Of that I was sure.
"When did-?" I started to ask before realisation hit me. His change in personality and his injuries all pointed to one specific time. "Port Angeles." He nodded into my shoulder and I clung onto him tighter than before. He squeezed back not hurting me, but enough to let me see that all he'd really wanted was some form of comfort. Something he hadn't had. "Why didn't you tell anyone?" I whispered and he pulled away from me, sniffing lightly. "Edward? Why didn't you say anything?"
He took a few deep breaths, probably trying to calm himself down before looking at the floor and clenching his eyes closed. "I was scared." He whispered, his eyes meeting mine briefly. The fear in them was devastating and I could only wonder how debilitating that must have been for him.
All of a sudden, as though someone had flipped a switch in my mind, all of his behaviours over the last few months made sense now.
Pushing us away.
He wouldn't stay in the same room with Carlisle, Emmett and Jasper for any lengths of time.
He wouldn't let any of them touch him at all.
The lashing out.
The walling himself off from all of us.
The distance he kept from people at school, students and teachers alike.
It all made sense now.
He was afraid of us.
I wrapped my arm around his shoulder again, pulling him to me before resting my head on his lightly.
"You have to tell them." I whispered softly into his hair – which really was as soft as it looked – and he stiffened immediately, pulling back from me, shaking his head quickly. "You have to."
"No." He stood up, running his hands through his hair, pacing across his bedroom. "No, I can't."
"It's the only way you're going to get past this." I stood up, stopping him in his tracks and grabbing his hands gently, tugging on them to get him to look at me. "It's the only way things will get better."
"I can't, Rose." His voice was thick with tears and fear as he shook his head slowly, looking away from me again. "I can't."
"Yes, you can." I whispered, not breaking eye contact as his eyes flickered towards mine again. I could now see why Bella was so enamoured with him. Even standing there, broken and torn, looking as though he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, his face tear-streaked, his eyes worn and weary and his hair a completely fucked up mess, he was beautiful. "I'll be there with you. But you have to tell them. They have to know."
He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as fresh tears ran down his cheeks. He nodded slowly, opening his eyes and focusing on something on the wall behind me. "Okay." His whisper was barely audible but it was there.
I took his hand in mine and stepped away from him, tugging slightly on his hand and nodding towards the door. He sighed gently, knowing that I wouldn't let him not go through with it now.
I led him over to the door and down the stairs.
I saw that the others were in the sitting room and the astonished looks on their faces didn't escape me. I knew it was because Edward and I hadn't clawed each other to pieces, the fact that we were coming down the stairs together, hand in hand and our tear-streaked faces that were causing their expressions. I knew that it was a little out of the ordinary. All right, a lot out of the ordinary, but I was sure they'd understand soon enough.
We sat down on the sofa and Edward immediately dropped his head into his hands, running his fingers through his hair again.
"It'll be okay." I whispered, resting my head on his shoulder as his breaths came in long, deep puffs through his nose.
"Rosalie?" I heard Esme's worried voice and looked up, seeing she and Carlisle standing there gazing between Edward and myself with worried expressions on their faces. "What's going on, sweetheart?" She moved around and sat on the coffee table in front of Edward and I, her eyes flickering between the two of us, probably wondering what on earth was going on.
"I can't." He whispered softly, shaking his head without looking at anyone. "I can't do it."
"Yes, you can." I whispered into his ear, doing something I never thought I would ever do, placing a kiss into his hair, sighing gently. "You can do this."
"I can't do it, Rose. It's too hard." He looked up at me, his eyes wide and fearful as I nodded slowly. He let out a deep breath, his eyes closing slowly.
"What's going on?" Alice's fearful voice broke through the concentration I had on Edward. "What's the matter?"
"I think I'd like to know the answer to that myself." Carlisle made his way across the room to where Esme was sitting in front of Edward, his eyes as wide and worried as his wife's.
I looked at the others, nodding minutely, indicating that we should give the three of them a moment and they got up without a word. They knew that it had to be something serious for this kind of reaction and my newfound camaraderie with Edward, which I'm sure, was still confusing the hell out of all of them.
"What's going on, Rose?" Bella was next to me, her gaze flicking from me to where we had left Edward in the sitting room with his parents.
"Wait." I whispered and they all fell silent, their gazes on me not relenting for a moment. I didn't look at any of them, my gaze fixated on the doorway that led to the sitting room.
I bit down on my lip, clenching my eyes closed as I heard the cry of despair that came from Esme and I knew Edward had told them what had happened to him. I knew it hurt him to tell them, but I hoped it would help him in the long run. He needed to let it out.
"Rose." Alice's choked sob caused me to open my eyes and see that she had tears streaming down her face. "Rose, what's going on?" I shook my head and she sobbed again, leaning into Jasper.
"Rose, if something's happening with you and Edward, don't you think we have a right to know?" Emmett looked pained as he spoke to me, probably imagining something like Edward and me fucking behind his back.
"Em, nothing's going on between me and Edward." I sighed, shaking my head. It didn't seem to appease him at all as he stared at me.
"Well then, what?" He asked again, clearly stressing out.
"It's not for me to tell." I said softly and he let out some kind of strangled scream thing, before running his hands through his hair and making his way into the sitting room. I followed after him quickly, knowing the others were close behind me.
"Edward, what the hell is going on?" He stood there, towering over Edward as Esme clutched onto him, tears streaming down her face, her left hand on his back and the fingers of her right running through his hair gently.
"Emmett!" He turned to look at me, a lost expression on his face as I shook my head. He ran his hands through his hair and I looked down at Edward who was watching me with tear filled eyes, silently begging me not to make him repeat what he'd had to tell his parents. I could see from the way he was he knew that he had to do it. It was something he had to do. But even so, it couldn't have made it any easier for him.
I sat down next to him, resting my forehead on his shoulder gently. "Do you want me to do it?" I asked softly, hoping he'd catch my meaning.
"Please." His whisper was so quiet I almost didn't catch it.
"Okay." I rested my head on his shoulder gently, letting out a small breath as I addressed the others in the room. "You all want to know what's going on?"
"You think?" Jasper shot back and I glared at him, shutting him up pretty quickly.
"Well, of course everybody knows what happened to me last night." I knew this wasn't what they were expecting but I couldn't say it. I couldn't physically say it, especially not in front of Edward. It hurt too much to think of him going through it. "Edward wasn't so lucky." I whispered as the room fell silent, save for the small sobs coming from Edward and Esme.
"No!" Emmett growled and I looked up at him to see him glaring at Edward as though he had insulted him in some way. "No." He shook his head again, running his hands through his hair as he started to pace slowly back and forth in front of where the three of us were sitting. "How can you say something like that?"
"What are you talking about?" I looked up at Emmett who was still glaring at Edward.
"How can you say something like that, huh, Edward?" He didn't take any notice of me. He was pissed for some reason and I was just confused. What the hell was going on? "What? You heard about what happened to Rose and thought that it would be a good way to get back in our good books? Huh? Blame something like that? It doesn't work that way, Edward. Might have believed you if you'd come out with something like this before you started behaving like a dick, but copying what happened to Rose? That's a new low."
Every syllable that came out of Emmett's mouth caused Edward to further tense and withdraw into himself. I wasn't sure what he had been expecting from the others. Understanding? He was most likely expecting pity to be their reaction and I could lie and say I didn't think the same thing.
But anger?
Denial of his words?
I don't think he expected that.
"Emmett!" I hissed, standing up and glaring at him, moving up close to him, so that I wasn't touching him, but close enough to get my point across. "What the hell is going on with you? How can you stand there and say that? Look at him! Can you stand there and look at him and honestly say you believe he's lying?" All my words were hushed, but I knew everyone could hear them. Everybody else was silent. Well, as silent as they could be.
Alice was clutching onto my brother, sobbing into his chest as he rested his cheek on the top of her head. He had tears running down his face and his expression told me he was in another time and place. Bella had collapsed on the floor and was sobbing into her hands. Carlisle had moved around to where she was, pulling her close to him, allowing her to use him as support.
Edward and Esme sat on the sofa, Esme's arms clutching Edward tightly to her chest as she sobbed. It was clear she was trying to control her reaction, to keep Edward calm or something, but it wasn't working. He had his head on her shoulder, tears streaming down his face as he held her close to him. I knew in that moment, that was what he'd wanted for the last four months.
A hug from his mom.
A way to make the pain go away.
It didn't really work, but Esme had always been a source of strength for all of us. She was the mother everyone wished they could have and the Cullens knew they were blessed with.
"Yes." My jaw dropped as he looked me in the eye, his conviction clear.
I shook my head and stepped away from him. I couldn't be near him right now. How could he accuse his own brother of lying about something like this?
I turned around as I heard the door leading outside open and saw that Edward had disappeared. No doubt he wanted to be on his own at the moment.
I noticed that Emmett had disappeared too, but with the way he was acting at the moment, I really didn't want to be anywhere near him.
Making my way into the kitchen, I sat on one of the stools, thinking about how Edward had been over the last few months and how none of us had noticed.
"How did we not see?" I turned to see Carlisle standing there, looking like half the man he usually was. "How did I not see?"
"He's a good actor." I whispered softly and he shook his head, running a hand through his hair.
"No." He looked at me, his eyes showing the pain he was experiencing at learning that his youngest son had been raped and he had had no idea. "I should have seen. I should have known something wasn't right with him. I should have looked into the injuries he had when he came back from Port Angeles. I should have noticed." He was blaming himself entirely and that wasn't the case. The only one who couldn't really be blamed for how we were when Edward came back from Port Angeles was Bella, because she hadn't been here. She had been in Jacksonville at the time so had no clue what was going on.
"No, Carlisle." I shook my head, sliding off my stool and approaching him, wondering if I'd be able to embrace him like I had Edward. "It's not your fault."
"I still should have seen. I should have known." He sighed, closing his eyes as tears ran down his cheeks. "I know the signs, physical and behavioural. But somehow I missed it."
We stood there in silence as he shed more tears for his child and his suffering. But I had a feeling tears weren't going to be enough.
Not nearly enough.
Edward
I had known for a while – well, since I got back from Port Angeles – that I should have told my family what happened to me. I should have let them know as soon as I could have.
I knew that telling them was going to hurt. There was a good chance of tears and pain occurring and that was what I got.
Sitting there, uttering those three words to my parents and I felt my world collapse around me. My mom had let out the most painful sound I had ever heard from anyone, ever and I hated myself for causing her that pain.
The pain and tears I had been keeping to myself for the last four months came pouring out as I clutched onto my mother, revelling in her warmth and the security of her touch. I needed her more than I needed anything right now. My dad hadn't said anything, but I could hear his sobs from somewhere across the room.
I know asking Rosalie to let the others know what had happened was cowardly of me, but I could hardly get it out for my parents, let alone anyone else. I didn't know what I was expecting from them. But I wasn't expecting to be brandished a liar.
Emmett had thrown the whole thing back in my face and that had hurt more than the insults and snide comments over the past few months. Because now . . . now he knew the truth, whether he wanted to accept it as such or not was up to him, but he knew. He knew the truth now.
I couldn't stay in the house with him. With them. I couldn't handle the looks of pity from the others, the fear and worry from my parents and the anger from Emmett. The only one I could stand to be around at the moment was Rose. Because she didn't pity me. She understood. Even though what she had been through wasn't anything like my own ordeal, she knew the fear that ran through your veins. She knew the hopeless feeling that crippled you. She knew.
I ran out of the door and across the garden, into the woods that encased our land, not caring that I had no shoes on. The cold October air didn't register with me until I stopped, slumping to my knees as the lack of energy my body held caught up with me. I leaned against the trunk of a tree, pulling my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around my legs. I rested my forehead on my knees and let out the sob that had been waiting to surface bubble up and escape.
Once the first sob had been let out, I couldn't hold any of them back. I didn't bother trying to stop the tears that started streaming down my face. I didn't wipe them away as I heard someone approaching behind me, stopping when they came up next to me.
"What the hell is going on with you, Edward?" It was Emmett. His voice was a low growl and I couldn't help but flinch away from him slightly. Emmett was big and even though I was his brother, I knew he wouldn't have any qualms about using his fists against me. "Well?"
"I thought you'd figured it out." I whispered, resting my cheek on my crossed arms and closing my eyes, facing away from him. I heard him sigh and didn't really know what to make of it. Who knew what was going through Emmett's mind right now.
"Right." He chuckled darkly, much like Rose had a few hours ago when I'd gone to her room to see if she was okay. It still amazed me how alike the two of them were, even though we'd all grown up together. "Come on, Edward . . ."
"What?" I glanced up at him to see that he wasn't even looking at me.
"It's clear you've got the rest of them wrapped around your little finger with this sob story, but isn't it convenient that the day after someone attacks Rose, news about your little 'ordeal' comes to light." His tone was mocking and I knew then that he really didn't believe what had happened to me. "Bit coincidental, don't you think?"
"Whether you want to believe it or not . . . you know what happened." I sighed, closing my eyes. "Everyone does now."
"Bullshit." He spat and I looked up at him to see him glaring down at me. I couldn't look at him, so I closed my eyes, trying to stop myself shaking from the cold. I really should have thought before coming out here. I shuffled away from him as he sat down next to me, his eyes clearly searching my face. "Look, Ed. I just . . ." He sighed, rubbing his hands down his face. "I don't understand why you're saying this."
"Because it's true." I replied, not missing a beat. He didn't believe me? "The week I spent in Port Angeles. That's why I was there. I had meant to be back home for dinner, but when I left the music shop, it was clear that that wasn't going to happen. It was already getting dark, so I knew that I'd have to hurry. I rushed to my car, hoping to get past a group of drunks that were goofing off a few cars up. You know? The whole, if I don't bother them, they won't bother me thing. Not how it worked. They wanted a victim. And I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. They destroyed my phone and the music I'd bought. And then they destroyed me." The last part came out as a whisper. Emmett hadn't moved since I started talking and I couldn't help but think my words were sinking it. "I spent the first night in the hospital in Port Angeles. They knew instantly what had happened to me, they had caused so much damage to my body. They didn't even need to do a rape kit to know. Of course they did, for evidence and shit, but . . . it wasn't necessary for them to know. They had to stitch me back together before they could do anything else."
"Jesus fuck." Emmett sighed next to me and something told me he might just be starting to believe me.
"I had never been so humiliated and scared in my whole life. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know anyone in Port Angeles. I didn't know . . ."
"Why didn't you tell us?" He whispered gently, trying to get closer to me, stopping when I jerked away from him. I hadn't let him, Jasper or my own father touch me in months. I just couldn't do it.
"Could you?" I looked at him for the first time since I started talking and I saw him eyes were brimming with tears. "Could you walk in there and tell the people closest to you that you'd been beaten and raped? Well? You have no idea, Emmett."
"I'm sorry." He whispered, shaking his head slowly. "I'm sorry I didn't . . . didn't believe you. I just . . ." He took a deep breath, dragging his hands slowly down his face before clearing his throat awkwardly, seeming at a loss for things to say. "We're going to help you, you know that, right?"
"And how do you plan on doing that?" My tone was laced with sarcasm I knew he couldn't miss.
"I don't know." He shook his head slowly, looking into the trees that spanned out in front of us. "I don't know, Ed. I guess Mom and Dad will call Charlie and tell him, if they haven't already." I tensed up. Would they really call Charlie without consulting me first? Don't be stupid, of course they would. "You said that they did a rape kit?" He winced at the words and I nodded slowly, still focusing on the idea that my mom and dad could be on the phone to Charlie right now. "I think they keep them for something like six months, while the victim," another wince made an appearance. He was probably realising, as he said the words, that his own little brother now fell into the category of 'victim'. "While they decide whether or not they want to press charges and start an investigation." He looked at me, probably because I hadn't said anything or moved for a while. His brow furrowed slightly, watching me carefully. His hand moved by my side, as though he was going to put his hand on my shoulder, but rethought his movements. He was probably remembering Rose from last night. "Did they tell you any of that at the hospital?" I shook my head and he let out a breath. "Come on. You're freezing. Let's get back inside."
He stood up, holding out his hand to pull me up. I looked at it for a moment before pushing myself up off of the freezing ground. I wasn't ready yet. And even though I saw that it was causing him pain, I couldn't do it.
My mom pounced on me as soon as I put one foot inside the house. She pulled me down to her level, sobbing, her tears making the side of my face wet as well as soaking the shoulder of my shirt.
"Don't you ever do that to me again, you hear?" She ran her fingers through my hair as she held onto me. I closed my eyes, my arms wrapping around her waist as we stood there. She continued to sob into my shoulder as the others made their way into the room. I wasn't sure what was going through their minds, but I was sure as hell glad I wasn't a mind reader at that point in time.
I pulled away from my mom, unlatching myself from her grasp, whispering that I needed to be alone before making my way towards the stairs. I walked slowly to my room not having the energy to rush up there as I normally would have done.
I could feel all eyes on me until I walked up the staircase to my room, which incidentally, was a floor above everyone else. How's that for isolated?
Sitting on my bed, I rested my head against the pillows, letting out a deep breath. I gazed out of the window, where the trees sat ominously as though they weren't really as safe as their placement around the house might have you believe. Of course, this ideal might have come from the fact that within horror movies, a popular setting was in the woods.
A knock on the door pulled me out of my wonderings about the woods and I looked quickly towards the door. Who the hell could that be? Glancing at the lock, I saw that the door was open, so it didn't mean that I had to get up.
"Come in." I called softly, looking out the window again.
The door opened slowly and I couldn't help but look at who was up here. Emmett had been right. My parents had called Charlie. Well, he was the police chief. Who else would they call when they find out that their youngest son had been raped?
"Hey, Edward." He glanced around the room, looking all sorts of uncomfortable standing there. He was on just the other side of the threshold, not in my room, but the intent clear. He was in his police uniform, so I knew instantly that this wasn't a social call. But then again, even if he hadn't been wearing his uniform, it wouldn't have been a social call. Whether he was in uniform or not, he was still the Chief of Police. "Can I come in?" I nodded, looking out the window again as he stepped into the room.
Just having him actually inside my room made me feel on edge. I hadn't let myself remain alone in the room with anyone . . . well, male in four months. I couldn't help but feel unsafe.
He walked over to my desk, grabbing the chair that sat there and placing it next to where I was sitting on the bed. I'd noticed that he'd left the door open. He's probably been told what had happened by my parents and had realised that closing the door would most like make me feel trapped and less responsive to what he wanted to find out.
"You know . . . your mom and dad are real worried about you." His tone was calm and understanding, even though I knew he didn't understand at all. Who knew how many times he'd been through this? Even in a place as small as Forks, there were bastards living on every street. What people knew was what was happening on the surface. They knew nothing about the filthy underbelly of the society they lived in. "What happened?"
I let out a soft snort at his question. "They didn't tell you?" I practically scoffed, not looking at him, but instead focusing back on the trees outside my window.
"Yeah, they did." He sighed, sounding completely lost. Well, it wasn't everyday you got this kind of news about your best friend's youngest, did you? "But, I need to hear it from you."
"Why?" I shook my head, taking a deep breath and closing my eyes, trying to stop the tears from coming. "Why do you need to hear it from me?" My voice was nothing more than a whisper as I looked at him. His eyes were filled with an anguish and sadness that I hadn't ever seen before.
"Because, with your say-so, we can gain access to the results of the kit that was performed and hopefully find the bastard who did this to you." He explained calmly, though I could see that through the façade he was trying to maintain, he was cracking. His hand was gripping the knee of his pants so tightly that his knuckles were turning white and his moustache kept twitching every so often. Clear signs that he was pissed or stressed.
"It was more than one." I whispered, looking out the window again. I couldn't look at him as I told him this, knowing that it would be hard enough anyway.
"What?" He straightened slightly at my words. I could literally feel him willing me to look at him, but I just couldn't.
"It was more than one." I repeated, my voice not any louder. "There were five of them. And they all contributed to ruining my life."
"It'll only ruin your life if you let it, son." I could hear in Charlie words that he was begging me not to give up. Too late.
"What if it already has?"
He obviously knew it was a rhetorical question because he sighed, looking out of the window. He had his hands clasped in front of him now, twitching every few seconds.
"You know . . . when I got the phone call about Rosalie last night, I couldn't help but think 'thank God that kid was there'." He looked at me again, his eyes glistening slightly. "I knew that narrow escape with Rose was too good to be true. I just hate that you had to suffer for so long on your own. I understand you were probably scared about reporting it, right?" I nodded slowly, closing my eyes. "And you had every right to be." I opened my eyes and watched him carefully, wondering what was going on. "Even if you had managed to get up the strength to tell somebody, there probably wouldn't have been a hell of a lot of people able to help you."
"What do you mean?" Surely people were trained to deal with sexual abuse cases.
"I know what you're thinking." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "That there's training in place." I nodded, as did he. "Yeah, there is. But unfortunately, it tends to focus on male-female abuse and . . ." He took a deep breath, unable to say it in front of me. I closed my eyes again, wanting this all to go away. "There's very little out there for male victims."
"Like me." I whispered and he nodded sadly.
"Edward, we're gonna catch these bastards." His voice was so strong and he sounded so convinced that I almost believed him. "I promise you that, we're going to get them and give them what they deserve."
I nodded slowly, feeling a stray tear I couldn't contain slowly make it's way down my cheek.
"Thank you."
. . . . .
In the days following my revelation, everyone was walking on eggshells around me and I hated it. I think I preferred it when they were all yelling at me and telling me to get my head out of my ass.
I couldn't stand this awkwardness.
Jasper, Emmett and my dad were all wary around me, as they were Rosalie. It seemed that they had now realised what my behaviour regarding the three of them – not approaching or having physical contact with them, and leaving the room whenever I was left alone with any of them – meant. They had put it together in their minds.
My mom insisted that she knew where I was all of the time. It appeared that Rose was receiving the same treatment from her mother, my mom and Renee. I wasn't sure whether the other two knew about what had happened to me, but I wasn't going to bring it up if they didn't.
"Edward?" I looked up as I heard my name called softly and saw my mom and dad standing in the doorway to my bedroom. "How are you, sweetheart?"
"I'm okay." I sighed, putting down the Chemistry book I'd been reading, hoping to absorb something for when I went back to school. My mom and dad had vehemently refused to let me go back to school for the remainder of the week. They said they were worried about me. I just thought they were being overprotective. But I couldn't really blame them, could I?
"Edward." My dad stepped forward slowly, looking slightly torn about what he was going to say. "Your mother and I feel that it's in your best interests if you were to talk to someone about what happened to you."
"What?" I looked between the two of them. "Like a shrink?"
"A therapist, yes." He amended the term I'd used. Who cares what they're called? They're the same thing.
"Why?"
"Because bottling it up isn't the way to deal with something of this magnitude." My dad sighed gently, looking at my mom. She nodded slowly, looking at me with her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "We've made you an initial appointment with a therapist at the hospital for tomorrow afternoon. Please, just try, Edward. You can't deal with this on your own."
I let out a breath, closing my eyes. "Do I have choice?"
"I'm afraid not."
I opened my eyes slowly, taking a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "Okay." I whispered, nodding slowly. "Alright."
"It'll be okay, baby." My walked over to me, wrapping her arms around me and pressing her lips to my temple lightly. "It's all going to be okay."
I couldn't help but wonder how talking about something could make it okay.
. . . . .
The psychiatry wing to the hospital was completely different to the rest of the building. You wouldn't think you were in the same place. Whereas the rest of the hospital was bright, clinical and you could literally taste the disinfectant in the air, this area was painted in pastel colours, with soft chairs surrounding small tables covered in magazines.
My mom and dad had come with me for the first meeting with my shrink . . . oops, sorry therapist. I'm pissed about being here, can you tell?
I know they're only looking out for me, but I wished they'd waited for me to make the decision, because I would like to think I would have done sooner or later. What with my secret out in the open now.
They both stood up with me when my name was called. They would be coming in for a few minutes in the beginning while the therapist ran through what would happen with regards to their presence at these sessions. They weren't allowed to sit in on the session, something I was grateful for.
"Dr. Cullen. Mrs. Cullen. Hello." The woman in front of me was tall, with dark hair and a slightly olive skin tone. Her eyes were a deep, dark brown nearly black as she stood there. Her face was friendly, her smile warm as she looked at me. Clearly Carlisle had requested a female psychiatrist. "And you must be Edward." She smiled at me again, showing off her perfectly white, straight teeth.
"Yeah." I nodded, not sure what else to do or say.
"I'm Carmen." She said softly, gesturing for us to sit down.
My parents sat down on the sofa that was on one side of the room. There was enough space in between them for me to sit down, but I didn't go across to them. I could see the disappointment in my mother's eyes, but it was too difficult at the moment.
I made my way over to an extravagant bookcase that was lining one wall and read some of the spines that were in front of me. Most of them were to do with the mind, obviously, but there were some other ones in there as well.
I could feel her watching me as I gazed at the bookshelf, feeling slightly self conscious. I wrapped my arms around myself and she seemed to notice my feeling uncomfortable at her scrutiny because I heard her sitting down and talking to my parents.
"I know you're both aware that this is a onetime thing, and you won't be allowed in on the sessions again, but I wanted you to know what I'm going to be doing with Edward. Just a basic outline of what we'll be working through." She made it sound like we were going to be working on a worksheet, like the ones you got in first grade or something, not my mind. "First, I'm going to be working with Edward to try and get him to come to terms with what happened to him," like you could do that, "and help him work up his trust issues a little bit. After that we're going to be focusing on whatever other different issues or problems Edward might feel needs addressing as we go. Now, I know that doesn't explain much, but because he is seventeen, he is still classed as a minor so I have to honour that. Even so, what happens within this room is between Edward and myself. I'm sure you understand. But while I am not allowed to repeat anything that is said – unless given the go ahead from Edward – he himself can tell you anything that goes on."
The two of them nodded, standing up and making their way towards the door. My dad gave me a smile, knowing not to touch me, while my mom wrapped her arms around me, kissing my temple lightly.
"It'll be okay." She whispered softly and I nodded, watching as they walked out the door.
I didn't turn around after the door closed, instead focusing back on the books. Some of them were leather-bound, huge and must have cost an absolute fortune. But then again, with people like my father paying for her advice and help, it didn't surprise me.
"I'm glad you're here, Edward." She said softly from where she was sat at her desk. "And I'm going to tell you straight off, I'm not going to try to twist your arm or control you."
"Okay." I replied quietly, not turning to face her as she sat there.
"Will you sit down?" She asked and I turned to face her. She was watching me with an intense expression on her face. I sighed gently, making my way over to the chair in front of the desk, flopping down into his, my eyes never leaving hers. "I can see you don't want to be here." You got that right. "You're probably wondering why people think that talking about something as traumatic as being raped," I winced slightly at the word, "can make it better." She smiled slightly at me. "Now, just then, you demonstrated one of the exact reasons why talking about it can help. You reacted when I said the word 'rape'." It was an involuntary thing for me to do. It wasn't like I could help my body's reaction to the word. "Talking about it – even just hearing the word every so often – can help you to desensitise yourself to the word, so you don't react that way upon hearing it. Make sense?"
I nodded slowly and she smiled at me. "I don't understand how that would help me, though? Wouldn't that just make it easier to lock everything away?"
"Hopefully not." She leaned forward on her elbows, watching me carefully. "What I'm hoping for is that if you can get used to the word itself, you'll be able to express your feelings surrounding what happened."
I didn't see that point in time coming any time soon, so I didn't respond.
"What were your friends like when you told them?" She asked quietly, sitting back in her chair.
"How do you think?" I shot back and she shrugged lightly.
"I don't know." She shook her head, rocking back on her chair lightly. "Everyone reacts differently, depending on how they express their feelings. Some people shout. Some cry. Some bottle it up and express it in other ways. How did they react?"
"I don't know." I sighed, shaking my head. "They were upset, I guess." I looked down at my hands resting on my stomach as I sat there.
"You only guess?" She sat up straighter, resting her head on her hand as she watched me. I nodded slowly and she didn't respond. "What happened when you first got home from Port Angeles?"
"I don't know." I shook my head, trying not to react to her question. That was exactly what she wanted. A reaction. But . . . maybe that wasn't a bad thing.
After all, she was here to 'help' me, right?
"Did you think about telling anyone about being raped?" I knew she was only using the word to try to get me used to it, like she'd said a moment ago, but I couldn't help the reaction. I nodded, slowly. "Who did you want to tell?"
"Anyone." I whispered, taking another deep breath. "Anyone who would listen."
"Did they listen?" She asked, her voice soft and soothing, sensing how difficult this was for me.
"If they had, I wouldn't be here now." I sighed, shaking my head. "I probably would have been here four months ago."
"How did that make you feel?" She asked, setting her pen down on the table next to the open pad in front of her. I glanced at it and saw that she had already taken quite a few notes. Probably writing down things about my behaviour and demeanour for future reference or something. I didn't know how these things worked. "Not having anyone to talk to."
"Alone." I whispered softly. "It made me feel like I didn't have anyone I could talk to. And I felt kind of . . . I don't know how to put it . . . um, betrayed? Is that right word? Like, even though they'd always said 'you can talk to us' and 'we'll always be there for you' it was all a lie. The one time I really needed them, they weren't there. And it hurt. So much."
"Your parents told me that you didn't come home until a week after the attack. That you stayed in a motel in Port Angeles." I nodded, not looking at her. "Why was that?"
I shrugged, shaking my head. "I don't know. I, um . . . I was afraid, I guess."
"What of?"
"Being . . . treated differently, I guess. That people would look at me and just see a . . . a rape . . . victim, instead of seeing me, you know?" She nodded slightly, picking up a pen. "Guess that was all for nothing."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because now that's all they're going to see." I replied quickly, looking up at her. "Now that they know, they're not going to see me as a person, they're going to see what happened to me. Ever since they found out, it's like none of them can say what they're really thinking or feeling. It's like everything they do, they think I'm going to break."
"Are you saying you won't?" She looked at me, her face completely blank and serious. I knew it was a legitimate question rather than a rhetorical one and she was expecting me to answer her.
"I don't know." I answered honestly. "But aren't people always saying it's okay to break sometimes? And I don't know . . . it's like . . . some part of me feels I need to break . . . so that I can put myself back together."
"What started happening when you got home?" She asked, effectively ending that line of questioning, whilst writing something down. "When you failed to get a response from the people around you?"
"I guess that's when I started pushing them away." I said softly and she nodded.
"Pushing them away, how?"
"Lashing out at them, not acknowledging them when they were in the house. Just . . . making it so they wouldn't want to be around me anymore. And it worked."
"Were you ever violent towards them?" I looked up at her sharply and saw by her expression that she was completely serious.
"No." I shook my head, looking down at my hands again. "There were times when I'd gotten close, but no . . . I wasn't ever violent towards them."
"What about yourself?" I closed my eyes, anticipating that question. I had wondered if she'd ask me if I had hurt myself at all. "Did you ever purposefully hurt yourself, Edward?"
"I've thought about it." I replied honestly, not looking at her. "I haven't actually followed through though."
She nodded, writing something else down. "You're finding it hard to trust me, aren't you?" She asked, although I was sure she already knew the answer to that one. "I understand why. I mean, I'm a total stranger that you're supposed to share your innermost secrets with, right?" She smiled at me, shaking her head. "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. This is all about you. Unless you choose to talk about it to anyone, nothing you say leaves this room. In here, it doesn't matter about what your parents think or want, what your siblings or your friends think. It's all about you. How you're feeling and what you're thinking. If you're hurting, this is a safe place for you to get that out. You can say whatever you want to say. Talk about who you want to talk about. If someone's upset you, made you angry, then you can say so and there won't be any repercussions. I know it seems scary right now and you might think that you're bad-mouthing the people you care about and who care about you, but think of this as a kind of safe haven for you, Edward. This room is a place where there are no judgements. It's okay to break in here, because if you do, we can work on putting you back together."
"Okay." I whispered, nodding, trying to take in what she'd said.
"No one has to know what happens in here, unless you want them to know." She smiled at me again and I felt a small smile playing on my lips. "Do you find it hard trusting people?"
"I never used to." I breathed, feeling my brow furrowing.
"But you do now." It wasn't a question, because my answer had told her everything she needed to know. "You want to trust people again, don't you?" I nodded slowly, wanting to be able to do that again. I wanted to be able to talk to my brother, sister and friends knowing that whatever I say won't be taken in some adverse way. "I can help you, if you want me to." I nodded again, not wanting but needing her to help me. "You look tired." She observed and I looked up at her, confused. "Do you suffer from nightmares?"
"Yeah." I nodded, looking down at the thick dark brown carpet that covered the floor. I couldn't help but wonder if it was as soft as it looked.
"How often?"
"Every night."
"You losing a lot of sleep?" I nodded again, not really knowing what to say. "Replaying what happened over and over again, huh?"
"Yeah." I bit down on my lip, closing my eyes, trying to will the images out of my head. "I hate it. I hate it and I want it to go away. I can't escape . . . not when I'm awake because I have reminders of what a dick I am to everyone and when I'm asleep it's like it's happening to me all over again."
"Edward," she turned in her chair and stood up. I didn't look at her as she walked around in leaned on the desk in front of me. "I need you to be completely and totally honest with me now, okay?" I nodded slowly, wondering what she was talking about. "Have you ever thought about killing yourself?" I looked up at her slowly, wondering how serious she was about getting an answer to that question. "Remember, unless you want it to, nothing leaves this room."
Remembering that, I closed my eyes and nodded slowly. "Yeah." I whispered softly, feeling the tears that had been threatening to fall the entire time I'd been in here, finally slip free. "I have."
"Okay." She whispered gently. "I think we'll leave it there for now." I looked up at her, slightly confused. "You've done really well today, Edward. I know it seems strange that I'm asking you a question of that magnitude and then ending the session, but I don't want to overwhelm you too much. We've got time to go over everything we spoke about today, okay?" I nodded again, lost for words. "I'm going to call your parents in now, and if it's alright with you, I'm going to let them know what I think. I'm not going to tell them anything that was said, just my personal theories. Is that alright?"
"Yeah." I nodded, knowing that my parents probably deserved to know what was going on, what with all the shit I'd put them through over the last few months and how much they were probably paying for this woman.
She made her way around me and opened the door, calling my parents. They made it into the room faster than I'd even seen them move and was quite impressed with their speed. They were both watching me. Even though I wasn't look at them, I could feel their gazes.
"After talking with Edward, I've come to a few conclusions." She picked up the pad that was sat behind her on the desk, looking at it briefly. "I think it's clear that Edward is depressed," the two of them nodded, looking at me sadly, "but I'm not sure anyone realises how deep into depression he's been allowed to fall. But alongside that, what Edward has told me and what he's been through, it's most likely that he's suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder."
I hadn't been expecting that.
"Now, I'd like to continue seeing Edward twice a week to begin with-"
"He needs to see you that often?" My mom asked, sounding shaken and frail. She didn't look much better as I looked at her, her eyes shining in the dim light of the office.
"I feel that he does, yes." Carmen nodded slowly. "Also, I want to see how we go in therapy to begin with, but there may come a time, where medication is needed." I sucked in a deep breath. "Don't look so worried, Edward." She gave me a warm smile, but I didn't relax. I didn't want to be put on any medication. Everything I'd heard about anti-depressants told me that all they did was make you numb to everything around you. "Medication is nothing to be scared of." Says you. "I'm not going to prescribe anything at the moment. And maybe I won't have to. I hope I don't, because I don't like putting patients on medication when therapy will work just as well. But unfortunately, there are some cases that require it."
"And you think I'm one of them." I looked away from her slowly.
"Maybe, maybe not. That's what I want to find out." She smiled at me again. "I won't put you on them if you don't need it." I nodded, trusting her on that one. She didn't seem the type to do that to someone. There were some shrinks out there that just shove you on medication and let you get on with it. Carmen wasn't like that. It was as though she actually cared.
On the drive home it was quiet, both of my parents looking at each other before their eyes flicked to me.
"How did go, honey?" Mom asked quietly when we were about three minutes into the journey. I knew she wanted to know what had been said and what had happened in there. Could I tell her?
'Unless you choose to talk about it to anyone, nothing you say leaves this room.'
Carmen's words ran through my mind and I believed her when she said that I didn't have to tell my parents what happened in there. She wouldn't either. She wasn't allowed to.
"Fine." I answered simply, looking out of the window as the trees indicating that we were nearly home passed by. "It was fine."
"Just fine?" I think she was hoping I would crumble and tell her about Carmen's questions and what I thought about Carmen's diagnosis.
"Mhmm." I nodded once, hoping she'd get the message about me not wanting to talk about it. Maybe, maybe not.
Once my dad had parked, I made my way into the house and went straight up to my bedroom. I sat down on my sofa, going over the session in my head. I would be seeing Carmen every Tuesday and Friday at four thirty until she felt it was time for me to go down to one session a week.
There was a light knock on the door and I called for the person on the other side to come in. It was Bella. She eased into the room, looking slightly nervous. I hated that I had done that to her. I never wanted her to be afraid to be alone with me. I wanted nothing more than for her to be as relaxed around me as she was before the whole Port Angeles shit happened.
We might never get back there though.
"How did it go?" She asked quietly, sitting down on the other end of the couch, tucking her legs up underneath her. She looked so natural sitting there. I wanted her to feel comfortable there as well.
"It was okay." I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "Intense, but okay." She smiled at me, her own silent way of saying she was proud of me for getting help. I neglected to mention that Mom and Dad were practically forcing me to go and see Carmen. I didn't think that would go down very well and things were still sensitive between the two of us. "She says I'm suffering from depression, which I think is a given." Bella nodded slightly, her smile fading. "She also thinks I'm suffering from PTSD."
"Really?" She sounded confused and I nodded. "I guess it's not that surprising. Going through something like that, it's going to have a lasting effect."
"Yeah." I sighed, resting my head on the back of the couch. "I wished it didn't."
She leaned towards me, placing her palm on my cheek and turning my head gently to look at her. "You're going to be fine. It might take some time and it's probably going to hurt at times, but you'll get there. You're strong enough to."
"Thank you, Bella." I whispered and she grinned at me.
"Oh, my dad's downstairs. He wanted to talk to you, your mom and dad about something." She smiled at me before getting up slowly.
I followed her downstairs, making my way into the living room and sitting down next to my mom. She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me to her. The others were in here as well and I was half expecting the adults to tell them to get lost. None of them did.
"We got the results from the rape kit done on Edward back." I felt my mother's flinch at the mention of the rape kit performed when I was in the hospital. I knew that mention of it made it more real to her. "Well, they came back as a match, cross referencing with another kit done just three weeks ago."
"They got someone else?" Jesus fuck! This is all my fault. If I'd gone to the police then I could have stopped this from happening.
"Yeah, they did." Charlie looked extremely downtrodden about that fact. "I don't know how they managed to do it, but then again, these labs always leave me confused, but they managed to differentiate the same five semen specimens that were present in Edward's results in this one as well. So we know it's the same guys."
"Five specimens?" My mom clutched me tighter to her – though I wasn't sure that was possible – upon hearing that news. Charlie nodded.
He explained to us that even though they had matched up with the kits, the specimens didn't belong to anyone on the database the police held. It was pretty much a dead end. Apparently, neither of us could identify them, because of the fact it was dark when we were attacked.
When Charlie went to leave, I managed to weasel my way out from my mother's grasp and get to him at the door.
"Charlie?" He turned to look at me. "Do you know who it was?"
"I can't tell you his name, Edward." He sighed and I nodded.
"I thought so." I bit my lip, wondering if he would be able to help me with my request. "Would I be able to meet him? I don't know. Talking to someone who went through it as well . . ." I shook my head, looking away from Charlie.
"I can give his mother a call and find out for you." He smiled at me, the only way of really telling was the way his moustache puffed out a little bit.
"Where did it happen?"
"Port Angeles." I took a deep breath, not wanting to ask the next question on my tongue, but unable to stop it.
"Near the music store?" I asked and his brow furrowed. He nodded slowly, probably wondering how the hell I knew that. "That's where I was attacked."
"Maybe that's the key to catching these guys." He muttered and I tilted my head at him, confused. He waved it off and shook his head.
"How come you were informed?" I really needed to check my filter. It seemed I couldn't stop anything from coming out lately.
"Because of you." He said simply and I blinked at him, taken aback by the answer. "If it weren't for you, they probably wouldn't have bothered, the PA police would have tackled it themselves. But because you were the first victim and you live in Forks, they notified me of it." I nodded, understanding.
After he left a kind of morbid feeling took over the house. It was as though the news of the boy who had shared the same fate as me had brought a dark cloud over us.
If only I had gone to the police in the beginning. They could have stopped this from happening.
"Stop it, Edward." Bella's voice sitting close to me, pulled me out of my stupor. "Don't blame yourself."
"But if I'd gone to the police to begin with, no one else would have gotten hurt." I rested my head in my hands as she sighed next to me. She placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently.
"You don't know that." She argued gently, clearly not wanting to upset me any further. "Who knows what would have happened. You couldn't have stopped this from happening."
"But now, someone else has to go through what I did and I . . ." I shook my head, not knowing how to put what I was feeling into words. It was all too much.
"It'll be okay." She whispered in my ear, wrapping her arms around me.
Will it?
. . . . .
Charlie called four days later, saying that the other boy's mother had said it was okay for me to see him. She thought that it might be good for him to talk to someone who's been through it as well, considering none of those close to him knew how to act. I knew that feeling well.
I'd spoken to Carmen about it and she agreed with his mother. She had agreed that meeting with another victim of the men who attacked me might be good for the both of us. It might help me to see that there was nothing I could have done to prevent it.
No matter how many times people told me that I wasn't responsible, I would always feel that way.
That is what led me to where I was standing right now. Outside his house on the outskirts of Port Angeles. Taking a deep breath, I rang the doorbell, stepping back slightly, my foot bouncing with anxiety.
About a minute passed before the door eased open and I saw a woman with a friendly face standing there. She regarded me for a moment before it seemed to click in her mind who I was and she smiled at me. They had been told by Charlie that I would be coming today, so she didn't seem worried.
"Hi, come on in." She stepped back, opening the door a little wider, allowing me to pass.
Their home was large, not as extravagant as mine, but there weren't many places around here that were. It was painted in light pastel colours, making the space light and open. I recognised the design layout and couldn't help but wonder if Esme had had a hand in decorating this place.
"I'll just go and get him." She said behind me, making me jump slightly. "Sorry. Would you like anything to drink at all?"
I shook my head quickly. "No, I'm fine, thank you."
With another smile she disappeared up the stairs and I was left standing there in the entryway. Part of me wished that I had taken one of the others up on their offer to come with me, but I knew this was something I had to do on my own. I couldn't lean on other people when it came to sorting out my shit and now was as good a time as any to start depending on myself.
She appeared again a moment later but this time she was followed by a boy around the same age to me.
He was taller than she was, probably around 5'11. Not as tall as me, but getting close. He had the same slightly olive skin tone as his mother, but at the moment, it was mottled with bruises and cuts. Signs of the attack he had suffered.
She smiled between the two of us, a sad glint in her eye, obviously knowing the event that bound us together, even if we didn't really want it to.
"You wanna come up?" He asked, gesturing up the staircase.
"Are you sure?" I asked wondering if he would be anything like me when it came to being alone in male company. I just hoped that he was already getting the help he needed.
He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips as he turned around and made his way up the stairs. I slipped my shoes off, placing them alongside the others in the entryway before following him up.
He walked into a room, I guessed was his. It was immaculately tidy and I couldn't help but wonder if he always had it this clean, like I did, or whether he knew he was having company and tidied up a bit.
He sat nervously on the bed, while I opted for the small armchair that was across the room.
"So . . ." I looked over at him, to find that he was staring intently at his hands as I tended to do when in a new situation or talking about something I found uncomfortable. "When did . . . when, um . . ."
"June." I whispered and he let out a breath.
"Whoa." I nodded, closing my eyes, running my hands through my hair. "I'm Ben, by the way."
"Edward."
"You know . . . when they said that the DNA from the . . . you know," I nodded because I did know, "when they said it came back as a match, I thought that it was going to be over. You know, that they'd got a match on the ones that did this to me. But when they said it wasn't a DNA match to the guys that did it, but to a prior test, I was so angry." He let out a long breath, his hands fisting the covers underneath him. "At first I was angry at the cops, because to me, they should have been able to find the bastards that did this to me. I know that's not always the way it works. That some of them never get caught, but, I wanted it to be that one time they do. Just so I could move on, you know?" I nodded slowly, wanting the same thing. "And then . . . I don't know why but . . . I was angry at you." I opened my mouth to say something but he stopped me, shaking his head lightly. "I guess it was because you hadn't gone to the police when it happened to you. But after a while, I realised that it wasn't you I was angry at."
"Who was it?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.
"I don't know." He shook his head, looking lost. "I haven't quite figured it out yet. I'm angry at them. I'm angry at myself. I'm just . . ."
"Angry at everyone." I supplied and he nodded.
"Yeah. I mean, my mom's got me in therapy to try and deal with this shit, but I don't know if it's going to work." He flopped back on his bed, wincing slightly as his back hit the mattress.
"You gotta stay with it." I told him, resting my head in my hands. "I mean, it happened to me months ago and I only found the courage a couple of weeks ago to tell my family. Trust me, in some ways it's hard that they know because they're all walking around on eggshells when I'm around, you treating me as if I'm going to shatter at any moment." He nodded, understanding what I was talking about. "But I would take that over trying to deal with it on my own. Every single time. When it happened to me, I tried telling someone what had happened, but I didn't get a chance to. So I pushed people away. My parents were always disappointed in me. My brother and sister were always angry at me and the people I'd thought were my friends turned on me. I was completely alone and I would take what I have now that they know than what I had when they were in the dark."
"How did you finally get the courage to tell them?" He asked, sitting up and folding his legs up underneath him. I could see that he had a bandage wrapped around his middle where his t-shirt rode up as he moved.
"One of the girls I'm friends with . . . she was attacked and nearly . . ." He nodded sadly knowing where I was going with this. "But thankfully, someone was walking and managed to help her. It was the day after that I went to see her and she figured it. She persuaded me to tell my family."
"Wow." He breathed, shaking his head. "This is a fucked up world."
"You're telling me."
We sat there in silence for a while, neither of us really needing to say anything at all.
It was around seven when I left his house. We had exchanged numbers in case either of us needed someone to talk to. Someone we knew would understand that wasn't being paid a couple hundred bucks an hour to talk to us.
It wasn't until I was driving home that I felt that there might be some semblance of hope for me. Maybe I could get past this. I knew that it would take a lot of work and time, but could I do it?
For everyone I knew, I hoped so.
Only time will tell, I guess.
I've decided I will be doing a series of outtakes for BCWYWF. If anyone has any ideas for what you want to see, missing scenes, alternate scenes like this one, let me know and I'll do my best to get them up.