Disclaimer: S Meyer owns. Not me. I just like twisting the characters to my own liking.
I know it's been absolutely freaking ages since I told you I'd post this. But what with the whole no computer thing - still using my mum's ha! - it was kind of hard to get it up. Apart from the fact this chapter didn't want to go the way I wanted it to no matter how many times I rewrote it. I hope it's worth the wait.
Edward
It had been six months since I had told my family about the attack.
Six months I had started therapy.
And none of it seemed to make any kind of difference.
The sessions with Carmen had started off light enough, trying to get used to how the other operated, was she put it. Mainly I think it was so she could get used to what would set me off.
She had decided about a month into our sessions that therapy wasn't going to be enough to help me. This meant that I would be on medication. I could see that she hated to do it, but it was necessary. She had placed me on an antidepressant called Paroxetine. Apparently, it was also used to help treat Post Traumatic Stress Disorder as well, so at least I wasn't having to take a multitude of tablets every day.
There was one catch to this medication though. Apparently, it would increase the suicidal thoughts Carmen had already feared I was having. Well, she knew that I was having them, due to my admission in the first session we had and she also knew what effects taking this medication would have on me.
Apparently, it was only found in a short term study that the suicidal thoughts were present. I don't think anyone actually thought to ask whether a long term study had been conducted or not.
As was expected, I had been all over the place when it came to my emotions for the first two weeks or so. Maybe it was longer, maybe not, I couldn't really tell. Everyone had been walking on eggshells around me, which would normally piss me the hell off, but in this case, I could understand why.
My parents didn't want me going back to school until the new year and had hired a private tutor for me. Seeing as she didn't want me to feel like a freak show when I went back – which had been inevitable, but there we go – Alice had vehemently told our parents that she would be joining me in the private tutoring.
I told her that it would be fine, but she refused to listen to me or our parents. Emmett was too much of a coward to try and challenge her. I felt my heart melt for my little sister in that moment. She didn't care what others thought of her. All she wanted to do was stick by me and I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather stick it out with than my own twin.
She, like the others, had forgiven me for all the things I'd said to them over the months we hadn't been speaking, understanding why I had been so off with them all. I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I mean, I knew what I was saying to each of them and I knew the effect it would have on them. Some part of me wanted to accept the responsibility of the words I had spat at each of them on occasion. I didn't want everything to just be swept under the rug. It wasn't fair to any of us to do that but they wouldn't hear of it. Apparently, because I had gone through something so traumatic and painful, I couldn't be blamed for anything said and done since then.
What a fucking joke.
But I could see they weren't going to drop it, so I let it go. Let them think what they want to think.
The meds that Carmen had put me on helped to tone down the anxiety I felt when left in the room with either my father, Jasper or Emmett. I didn't feel the need to bolt so quickly now. There would be times when I would be sat in the room with them and it would start to trickle in, like water slowly seeping through a crack. The force of its impact would increase until it hit me full force and I had to leave the room, or else suffer from a panic attack.
I had had a couple of panic attacks over the last few months, trying to push myself, wanting to be alright around people again. My parents thought that I was pushing myself too hard and had notified Carmen of their fears.
And that leads us to today's session.
"Why have you been testing your boundaries in such harsh ways, Edward?" Her tone was calm and collected, just as it always was. It didn't seem to matter how many times she asked me a question or how often we revisited a subject, she always had that same tone. Most of the time, it was reassuring, letting me know that I wasn't essentially doing anything wrong, but that she was going to try to understand and allow me to do things at my own pace. Unfortunately, there were times when I wanted her to get pissed at me. I wanted her to get angry like other people did. Surely it wasn't natural for someone to be that calm all the time. Sometimes I wanted her to tell what a fucking idiot I had been.
Times like right now.
I had gone one better than the others last night. I had managed to put myself in the hospital.
That hadn't happened before.
For some reason, I had been really determined last night to make it through the rest of the movie we were watching. It had been the six of us downstairs. Bella, Alice, Rose, Jasper, Emmett and I had all been sat in the living room. I had been slightly uncomfortable with Emmett and Jasper sat so close – well, they weren't even close to me being on the sofas on the other side of the room – but having the girls in the room as well, acting as a sort of buffer between me and them, it had made it bearable.
But then the girls had started to get tired, taking themselves off to bed.
I knew it was stupid and there was only half an hour or so left of the movie and I had seen it before but there was something in me that wanted to prove to myself, and everyone else around, that I could do it. I could last however long in the room on my own with Jasper and Emmett.
That didn't work out so well.
I don't even remember the attack creeping up on me like it normally did. It was as though someone had smashed a giant hole in the dam I had built around myself and an enormous flood of anxiety had engulfed me.
The next thing I realised was being in the hospital this morning, monitors beeping and my mother sitting tiredly at the side of my bed. Alice, Rose and Bella were all spread out across the room, my father, Jazz and Em nowhere to be seen. They obviously knew what it was that had set me off last night, not wanting to risk a repeat.
I wasn't sure how I felt about that.
"Edward?" I looked up at her, not really registering her words. "Why have you been pushing yourself so much?"
I shook my head, taking a deep breath. "I just want . . . I want to be able to . . . function properly . . . I guess is the right way to put it." She nodded, indicating she wanted me to carry on. I let out a breath, staring out the window behind her for a moment. She knew to let me proceed at my own pace, or else I couldn't get the words out. It was as though something inside me just froze making me physically unable to push the words past my lips. I didn't know what it was but Carmen told me it was a side effect of the anxiety I felt at the situation. "I guess I just want to know that someday I'll be able to be . . . normal again, you know?"
"What do you mean by normal?" She asked, her eyes watching my reaction.
"Not freaking out when I'm left in the room with other guys. My family." I closed my eyes, willing the stinging behind my lids to cease. Even though in this room, everything was private and unless I said something or gave permission for Carmen to release information, it stayed that way, I still felt pathetic if I broke down in front of her.
Thinking back on my words from my first session, it seemed kind of ironic now.
"Some part of me feels I need to break . . . so that I can put myself back together."
Well, I'd broken. I'd done that pretty well actually. Now I just had some issues putting myself back together.
"Do you think that's still affecting you?" She asked and I wondered where the hell she'd been all session.
"What do you think?" I shot back, glaring at her. She responded with nothing more than a levelled stare of her own. She knew what I could be like in a session, knowing that I could lash out – which I hated – and in accordance, she knew how to respond. Or not, as it were. I hated knowing that I could be so angry all the time and that she had to bear the brunt of it.
She had explained it to me after I had gone off on a pretty long rant about three weeks after she had put me on the meds. My body had still been adjusting at that point, so I was pretty much all over the place. She had explained to me that because I hadn't been able to express any feelings at home, in the environment where most vented to those whom would listen or where they were able to be themselves, coming into Carmen's office, a safe place to do something like that, I was able to let everything out.
It didn't matter how much she said it was what she was here for, it still bothered me that she was the one on the end of my foul moods.
I sighed, running my hands through my hair and resting my elbows on my knees. I toyed with the plastic hospital band that was still around my wrist. I wasn't allowed to take it off yet, considering I hadn't actually been discharged officially. I had been allowed off the ward to come and see Carmen for an emergency session but straight afterward I had to return to my room and wait for a doctor to come and check me over.
Why couldn't they have just discharged me and then sent me here?
Where was the sense in this set up?
"I want to be able to sit down and talk to my father, my brother and my friend without having a meltdown two minutes in. I don't want to be the one sitting there at the dinner table, counting down the seconds until I can leave so I can get away from all the males in the room. I want to be able to join in when they're messing around. It's like . . . when they were playing a game of football on Thanksgiving, I couldn't join in. It didn't matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't. All it did was serve to remind me of how much of a freak I am."
By the time I had finished speaking, I had tears rolling down my cheeks and Carmen's calculated stare and vanished to reveal a look of sympathy.
"It just doesn't feel like any of this is working." I whispered and she sighed, resting her pen on her pad in front of her.
"You know what you need to do?" I shook my head and she pulled out a small notepad, standing up and walking around her desk and handing it to me. "Over the next couple of weeks, I want you to write down all the things about the different men that come and go in your home that bother you. Not even that bother you. Just different things about them. How they are around you, each other, their girlfriends or in your father's case, your mother."
"Why?" This was confusing as I looked between her and the notepad in my hand.
"I'll explain in a few weeks time." She gave me a sly smile and I wondered what she had up her sleeve. "Did you want to tell me about what happened last night?"
"I don't even know what happened last night." I sighed and she nodded once, silently willing me to go on. "We were all sat there watching a movie when the girls said that they were getting tired and went to bed. I just . . . wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. That I was able to sit through the last twenty minutes or so of a goddamn movie without freaking. And I couldn't do it. Even that was beyond me."
"Edward," she looked down at the floor, crossing her arms across her chest before looking up at me again. "We've discussed where these issues are coming from. The attack and the rape have had a distinct effect on your mindset and even though you want to be comfortable with the other men in your life at the moment, you've still got a long way to go."
"I know," I nodded, feeling ashamed of my actions and how I was affecting everyone else. "I just . . . I feel so . . . I don't know!" I ran my hands through my hair, letting out a breath and settling back in my chair. "My dad had to write a letter to the school to let me replace gym class with a study period. I don't know what he told them – I know it wasn't the truth or everyone would know by now." She nodded, knowing how small towns were for gossip. "But it was just . . . knowing the actual reason for him having to do that, it just makes me feel so . . . pathetic."
"You're not pathetic, Edward." She stood in front of me, settling so that she was almost kneeling in front of me. She was close enough to get her point across, yet a safe distance. Well, what I deemed a safe distance, anyway. "You're a seventeen year old boy trying to deal with extreme trauma. There is nothing in that scenario that is pathetic. You need to accept that. Because if you don't, no one else will."
I closed my eyes, exhaling slowly through my nose. "I know." I did know. I just didn't know if I could accept what she was telling me.
Sessions with Carmen were getting harder to cope with and everyone seemed to be realising that. She was moving on from the basic, how does this affect me and how I function and how I interacted with those around me. She didn't really want to linger on those I was with most of the time, seeing as I didn't really know how they were thinking and feeling at any given time. She wanted to talk about the night of the attack. I hadn't been able to get through that with anyone. The only one who knew the entire story from my lips was Charlie, purely because he needed it for a statement.
Apparently, my statement matched almost identically to Ben's. He had been walking down the street towards his car when they had attacked him. They had beaten him and then brutally raped him like they had me. He had told me himself that there had been five of them and they had each 'had their turn' as they'd put it. I remembered that terminology being used. But there was one thing that put Charlie on edge and made him certain it was the same guys.
In Ben's statement, he'd said that they'd made references to a 'rich boy'.
They'd called me 'rich boy'.
Ben had almost had a meltdown when I'd told him as much.
He seemed to be doing a lot better than I was when it came to getting through what he'd experienced. When I'd brought that up with Carmen, she'd told me that everyone had different ways of dealing with trauma and he hadn't had as long as I had to dwell on what happened to him on his own. He'd had a few hours at the most.
I'd had four months.
Even though, in the grand scheme of life, that wasn't a large period of time, Carmen had told me that it could mean everything to someone that had become a victim of rape.
In no uncertain terms, she had stated that it could be the difference between life and death.
Meaning that there was a high chance I could have killed myself by now.
Well that was comforting.
After I finished my session with Carmen, which – as usual – left me feeling like someone had rubbed me raw from the inside out with sandpaper, I was discharged from the hospital. The doctors had wanted to make sure that I wasn't going to intentionally harm myself before letting me go. Carmen's assurance put them at ease and before I knew it I was being wheeled out of the hospital by my mother.
Why the hell did they have to do that?
I could walk just fine.
Getting home, I was surprised to see Charlie's cruiser sat in the driveway. He wasn't in it, meaning that Emmett and Jasper must have been in the house. The girls were all with me and Dad was at the hospital.
What was going on?
My mind immediately flicked to the worst case scenario and he was here to tell me they had gotten someone else. They couldn't have, could they?
Well, it was possible.
They had managed to get me and Ben, hadn't they?
Who's to say they wouldn't attack someone else?
Charlie, Emmett and Jasper were all sat in the living room as we walked in the door. They looked up as I walked in, all standing up quickly. Charlie looked at Bella, who was firmly planted by my side. Alice and Rose immediately went to Emmett and Jasper and to my surprised my dad walked down the stairs, a worried and anxious look on his face. Bella grasped my hand, feeling the tension that had begun to creep through my body rolling off me. She looked up at me, a small smile on her face, yet it did little to assuage my fears.
"Edward," Charlie sighed, looking me over. Had they told him what happened last night? "There's something you need to hear."
"They got someone else, didn't they?" I asked before I even had a chance to check my mental filter.
"No." He shook his head, motioning for me to sit down in front of him. I did so and he reclaimed his seat on the sofa. My mother and father walked up behind me, my mom's hands coming to rest on my shoulders as my dad wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her to him. "They didn't. We got them."
"What?" The breath that escaped me was nothing more than that. They got them? "How?"
"I told the PA police what you said about you and Ben both being attacked outside the music store and they matched up the two statements." He shook his head, letting out a single laugh. "You would have thought that for something this serious, they would have got their asses in gear a long time ago, huh?" You would have thought so. "Well, they finally started to watch the music store and caught the five guys hanging around there. They arrested them for being drunk and disorderly, but managed to get a DNA sample. How, I don't know. Normally, it's not precedent for that kind of charge, but it worked in our favour. The samples collected two nights ago were a match to the kits performed on you and Ben."
"What'll happen now?" Bella asked in a small voice. I jumped slightly, having forgotten the others were in the room.
"Well, four of them are pleading guilty to the charges brought against them." He looked up at me and it clicked they weren't being charged for actually raping Ben and myself. Just assault. "They're being charged with assault and rape, Edward. They're going to get what they deserve."
"They deserve to burn in Hell." Emmett snarled and we all turned to face him. "They do. Because of them, my brother has had to deal with this shit on his own for months, now he's being fed medication that's likely to make him want to kill himself, he's been in therapy for months and who knows how it's really going to affect him for the rest of his life. And the same goes for Ben."
"Wait," I held up a hand, silencing Emmett. "What did you mean 'four of them'?" What did that mean?
"The other guy, which seems to be the leader of this little group, is pleading not guilty." He sighed, shaking his head sadly. "He's stating that he didn't do anything unlawful and is keeping quiet about anything other than that."
"What does that mean?" I didn't want to know the answer to that question, but I had to ask.
"It means that it'll probably go to court." He looked at me, his brown eyes sad. "I'm sorry, Edward."
"Wh-what?" I felt the panic welling up inside me. This couldn't go to court. It . . . it just couldn't.
"How high is the chance that it'll get that far?" Carlisle moved over to Charlie, watching me as I sagged, collapsing onto the sofa. "Charlie, we can't let this get to court."
"I don't know what's going to happen, Carlisle." He shrugged, letting out a sigh. "Because he's pleading 'not guilty', there's really no way to tell how far it'll go. This isn't the area I deal in. All I do is catch the guys."
"Will . . . will Edward have to . . ." My mom couldn't even finish the sentence before she wrapped herself around my father.
"I don't know, Esme." He shook his head, giving me a sad look before telling us that he had to get back to work.
He had a knack for creating a tense atmosphere when he dropped round.
"I, um . . . I need a minute." I whispered, softly making my way upstairs. I pulled out my phone, scrolling through my contacts before hitting Ben's number. I held it up to my ear, hearing the connecting tone.
"He, Edward." I heard him answer, his tone weary. "I'm guessing you heard."
"Yeah," I sighed, flopping down on my bed. "Like, five minutes ago. Apparently one of them is pleading not guilty."
"I know." I could practically hear him doing the same thing I was, flopping down on his bed and running his hands through his hair. "I don't want to know what that means."
"Neither do I." I shook my head, sitting up and swinging my legs over the edge of my bed. "Charlie hinted that it might go to court. I don't want to think about having to go up there and testify."
"You think it'll get that far?" He sounded slightly shaken at the thought and I couldn't deny that I wasn't feeling the same way.
"Jesus fuck, I hope not."
We chatted for a bit, not broaching the subject we knew bound us together. Neither of us wanted to admit that we were shit scared of what could be happening some time very soon. Neither of us wanted to talk about the fact that we might have to relive the worst and most traumatic night of both of our lives in front of a room full of strangers. Having to face the one that had stripped the both of us of our dignity and innocence.
I couldn't do it.
I knew that now and we had no idea what was going to happen.
I knew I couldn't face him again.
Especially when there was going to be someone defending him.
. . . . .
It was the sixteenth of June and I was trying to prepare myself for what would be happening tomorrow.
All of our fears had been confirmed when we had been told that due to the plea the guy – I refused to acknowledge what his name was – had submitted. We had to go to court and there was nothing I could do about it.
I had been told that if there was any way that we were going to have this guy put away where he belonged Ben and I had no choice but to testify against him. There were – thankfully – no others that they had attacked, so Ben and I had to do what we had both been having nightmares about since we heard the news.
I couldn't sleep and I knew I wouldn't be getting any anytime soon.
"Hey, son." I turned to see my dad standing at the bottom of the stairs. He walked into the living room, sitting down on the chair that was facing the sofa I was sitting on. "What are you doing up?"
"I couldn't sleep." I sighed, resting my elbows on my knees and dropping my head into my hands. "I don't think I can do this."
"I know it's going to be hard for you and for Ben, but you have to be strong." I looked up at him and saw that he wished he could comfort me in some way. I knew it was hurting him to have to stay so far away from me, but there was nothing I could do about it. I still wasn't comfortable around him, Charlie, Jasper or Emmett. I couldn't get my body to cooperate with the knowledge that they wouldn't hurt me.
I wished I could function properly sometime soon.
But then again, I'd been wishing for that since I'd come back from Port Angeles.
"I just . . . I don't know if I can get up there and do it. I mean, you and mom have told me that the lawyer he's got is ruthless and I can't do that. I don't know if I can do that, Dad." He shuffled closer on the chair he had sat down on. I could see that he wanted to come and ease me through it, but he knew I couldn't handle it. It made me sound weak and pathetic, but I couldn't help it. I couldn't handle it.
"You need to take your mind off of it." I raised an eyebrow, wondering how the hell he was going to do that. "You know, you were the first one to laugh out of you and Alice." I shook my head. I didn't know that. I had always figured that Alice had been the one to cross that particular bridge first, considering her excitable nature. "You were. And it was the most unconventional thing that made you laugh."
"Do I want to hear this?" I shook my head, running my hands down my face, laughing dryly.
"Probably not." He laughed, his eyes lighting up at the memory.
"But you're going to tell me anyway, aren't you?" He nodded and I moaned, leaning back on the sofa. "Go ahead. I'm just glad that I'm the only one who's going to hear this."
"Well, your mother knows, obviously." I nodded and he laughed. "It was actually her that discovered how to make you laugh." I raised an eyebrow at him, wondering if he was actually going to tell me what got him laughing. "I walked into the house after a long day at the hospital wanting nothing more than to relax when I heard you laughing and your mother singing to you. Even when I was at the bottom of the stairs I could hear it so clearly and it was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard. Nothing can really beat hearing your baby laughing for the first time. There's nothing like it. Anyway, I walk into the nursery to hear you laughing your little heart out and your mother standing there rapping 'Baby Got Back'."
"What?" I let the laughter bubble out of me at his admission. He sat there, laughing at the memory. I laughed at the image that story conjured up. "What about Alice?"
"Laying there, looking at your mother like she was an idiot."
"The same look she gives Emmett?"
"The very same."
We both sat there laughing for a few minutes before I looked up at my dad again. "Thanks, Dad. I needed that."
"Happy to help." He stood up, walking past the sofa. "Get some sleep. You're going to need at your energy for tomorrow."
I nodded, sighing gently before standing up and following him up the stairs. He smiled at me again before I turned and walked up to my room on the third floor.
. . . . .
I couldn't help but wonder if it was planned or purely ironic and coincidental that the first day of court happened to fall on the day I had been attacked, one year on.
Of course they'd know the date from the rape kit the hospital had performed.
Could the defence have planned it that way?
Was that even possible?
Maybe they were planning on having me completely breaking down when I was on the stand and then having my testimony classed as disallowed.
Maybe they were hoping for that.
"Are you okay?" I looked up to see Bella standing in my doorway, watching me closely.
"I don't know." I shook my head, looking out of my window over the trees that surrounded the house. "I don't know what I'm going to do."
"God, I hate this." She snapped, walking over to me. I looked up at her, wondering what the hell was going through her mind at the moment. I could never tell. "You shouldn't have to go through all of this. Neither should Ben. This guy has ruined your life enough, he shouldn't have any more chances to do so."
"It's been a year." I whispered and she looked at me, confused. "A year today."
"Holy shit." Her arms wrapped around me, her lips in my hair. "This is so fucked up."
"You got that right." I nodded and she inhaled deeply, her lips and nose still pressed into my hair. Was she sniffing me? That was a bit weird. Maybe she was just taking a breath to steady herself, like I had been doing all goddamn day. "I don't know if I can do this."
"You can." She said softly, her tone stern, believing what she was saying. "You can do this. You're strong enough. You're the only one I know to be strong enough to go through with this. We're all going to be there. We're going to be there, supporting you, every step of the way."
"I'm not sure how I feel about that." I whispered honestly, feeling her forehead resting on my shoulder.
"You can do this." Her words didn't bring me much comfort and I didn't know how I felt about my family being there, listening to me having to tell strangers about what happened to me that night.
We had been advised by the prosecution that there was a high chance I would be required to take the stand at some point soon. I didn't know whether it would be just the opening arguments today or whether testimonies would be taken and witnesses – which didn't consist of more than Ben, me and those that had witnessed how it had affected the two of us. Considering there wasn't anyone that witnessed what actually happened, that was all we could offer the prosecution.
Arriving at the courthouse, I was alarmed to see there were reporters and photographers waiting outside. I turned to look at my parents, alarmed, finding they looked outraged. It seemed there was a back way into the courthouse and my dad drove us round there.
"What the hell is all that outside?" He seethed, walking up to Marcus, the lawyer representing the state. "What the hell is going on with the circus out there?"
"I don't know how they got wind of what's going on." He looked at us all apologetically, looking slightly frazzled. "I wasn't aware that this had even been leaked until I arrived this morning."
"Why are they here?" I asked, stepping around my father. "What are they doing here? This doesn't concern anyone out there."
"They're just out itching for a story." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "This is essentially a double rape case. In a place like this, or any place for that matter, it's big news."
"Is there any way to get rid of them?" My dad asked, moving back in front of me, as though trying to shield me from Marcus.
"I'm afraid not." He shook his head, glancing at the door as someone walked through, bringing the yells and the flashes of the reporters with them. They didn't seem to be allowed in the building, waiting outside to pounce on anyone careless enough to walk through.
We all stopped, seeing that it was the defence attorney, Stefan Microné that had walked through the door. He approached us, a smirk playing on his thin lips. He was a man that reminded me of a ferret in his features. He didn't strike me as a man that had known much love throughout his life, not that he deserved it. It was his job to try and get vermin and monsters out of jail which was exactly where they belonged.
"Ah, Edward." He approached me and my dad – pushing the fact that I had issues with male contact out of the way for now – wrapped his arm in front of me, pulling me back slightly and stepping in front of me. The contact was fleeting but it was enough to make me jerk away from him. "Hm, still jumpy I see." The smirk on his face told me all I needed to know. He was going to try to play that to his advantage.
"At the hands of your client." I couldn't help but step away from my dad upon hearing the venom in his voice. "I will never understand people like you."
He turned around, taking my arm and leading our group away from the man who was managing to smirk and sneer at us at the same time.
"Dad?" I pulled my arm slightly, needing to get away from his grip. I felt my muscles locking up in the familiar panic that threatened to overpower me. My limbs starting shaking without my consent or knowledge of how to prevent it from happening. "Dad!"
He looked at me, his features softening slightly, his brow furrowing as I looked at him, panicked. I tried pulling my arm away from him again and he looked down at his hand, suddenly letting go, his features panicked. As I stepped away from him.
"I'm so sorry, Edward." He didn't step towards me as I leaned against the wall. "I didn't realise . . . I'm so sorry, son."
"Give me a minute." I held up a hand, stopping any of them from approaching me. "I'll be okay, just give me a minute."
"I'm so sorry, Edward." He whispered, stepping as close to me as he knew I could cope with. "I just didn't want you anywhere near him." I nodded, understanding what he was telling me. He didn't want me to come into contact with someone that was defending one of the men that had ruined my life.
"I know." I nodded, letting out a breath and running a hand through my hair. I didn't want to know. I didn't want to be here. Who knew what was going to happen in that courtroom today? "When do we . . . when do we go in?"
"In about ten minutes." He was watching me, checking for any signs of distress. Hell, I was full of distress. It should have been easy to spot. "Are you sure you want to do this? We don't have to. We can leave right now if you want to."
"Dad," I sighed, looking him straight in the eye. "I have to do this. We both know that. If I don't then who knows what could happen. It's only really Ben and I that can put him away. They need us to be able to do that."
He nodded, not happy with my answer but accepting it as it was. He knew that he couldn't get me to change my mind. I had to do this. If I didn't, he could be released and free to attack someone else. Or he could go after Ben and myself, our families as a way of getting back at the two of us for this whole mess.
We filed into the courtroom, all of us anxious as we sat there. Everyone had come today, and some part of me wished that they hadn't. My mom and dad sat on one side of me, while Ben and his parents sat on the other. He seemed as nervous as I did, shaking slightly as he sat there. He had his eyes clenched shut, his hands fisted into the material of his jeans.
I glanced back, seeing Ben's girlfriend, Angela sitting there, watching him with a worried expression on her face.
"Look behind you," I whispered to him and he slowly opened his eyes, turning in his seat to see her sitting there. He immediately relaxed, as he slowly turned back to face the front of the courtroom. "Whenever things get too tough, picture her face." He nodded, shooting me a grateful smile.
It wasn't too long after that everything else started. We would only be hearing the opening statements from each of the lawyers and a couple of witnesses. Those who had been witness to how Ben and I were after we were attacked and such.
As was normal, the prosecution gave their arguments first, stating that the man whom had initiated the attacks on Ben and myself was nothing more than the lowest form of monster. What Marcus was saying was true. How he had attacked the two of us, on two separate occasions, with no encouraging behaviour from either of us. The way he went about it made me cringe, though. I hated the way he was practically spitting the words as though they might double back and attack him. As we sat there, I couldn't stop the single tear that ran down my cheek as Marcus spoke, urging the jury to see this for what it really was. A double rape. Nothing less.
I opened my eyes as he finished, taking his seat and glanced over at the jury, who were all watching Ben and myself. He had his head down and was shaking slightly, probably trying to keep the memories at bay. They were watching the two of us with mixed expressions. Some were expressions of sympathy and pity. Others were filled with anger – which I hoped was directed somewhere else – and one woman was glaring at him with an expression that reminded me of the saying 'if looks could kill'. I tell you, if they could, she'd be the one standing trial.
As it turned out, the defences opening statement was harder to hear than Marcus's was. He stated that Ben and I were nothing more than two horny boys looking for some fun. He went on to say that it was clear that we had realised how it would look if anyone found out, so we called it in as a rape.
I zoned out, not wanting to listen to anything more that he had to say. It may have been a complete fabrication, but that didn't make it any easier.
After that, the first witness called to speak was Carmen. Apparently, they had tracked her down as my therapist and had found some way to make her talk. She didn't have a choice, but to share what had been said in our sessions.
There were things said that I didn't ever want anyone to know, which was the main reason for not wanting my family and friends there. I wondered if any of them had been placed on the witness list and not mentioned it to me. I wasn't sure why they'd keep it from me, seeing as it would come out sooner or later.
They made her do that whole swearing on the bible thing, which personally, I didn't get. Why swear on the bible? What if you were an atheist? It didn't really mean that much, right? Alright, Edward, back to the matter at hand.
"Please state your name for the records."
"Carmen Rappore." She looked at me as she sat down. I could see in her eyes that she didn't want to do this. She didn't want to be sitting there, about to spill all of my deepest secrets for everyone to hear. But she didn't have a choice.
"Miss Rappore." Marcus approached Carmen and she gave him a small smile. "You are a therapist, yes?"
"That's correct." She nodded once, glancing at me. "And it's Dr. Rappore."
"Excuse me. I'm very sorry." She nodded slightly, indicating he was forgiven for his slip. "And which of these two boys has been placed in your care?" He turned to give the two of us a small smile. We didn't return it.
"Edward Cullen." She sighed, watching me intently.
"The first victim, yes?"
"Yes."
"Were you acquainted with him before he was attacked?" Marcus walked up to where she was seated, standing a mere foot in front of the railings.
"No, I was not." She shook her head, her eyes never leaving mine.
"When did the victim begin seeing you as a therapist?"
"In October." She closed her eyes for a moment. "About eight months ago."
"And what can you tell us about how he was when you first met him?" I could see what Marcus was doing. He was giving Carmen an opening to describe how I'd been.
"He was closed off, nervous, simply put he was scared. I noticed in the family sessions I've held that his fear was heightened, especially around his father, brother and male friends. His behaviour clearly indicated that he was severely depressed and after our first session I recognised that he was also suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder." She was skimming over the details and I sent out a silent thanks to her.
"Was there anything that indicated he might have been this way before the date in question in Port Angeles?"
"No." She shook her head, letting out a soft sigh. "His mother and father explained that he had always been very sociable, friendly, getting involved in whatever was going on. A general sixteen year old boy. But after he came back from Port Angeles, they said that he was a completely different person. He would lash out, his language had deteriorated-"
"How so?"
"He began insulting those around him. Cursing, swearing, that sort of thing."
"Had they given any indication that this was the norm for him?"
"No." Another shake of her head. "In fact, they expressed how shocked they were at his behaviour. In our session, they told me that they didn't understand it. He had left a good mannered boy, respectful and kind, yet he had come back rude and offensive. They didn't understand it and didn't know what to do."
"None of them had any idea that he had been attacked?"
"No."
I glanced at Stefan as he sat there, watching Marcus's questioning. I could see that he wanted to object to the direction his questioning was taking, but there was no need at the moment. Marcus hadn't done or said anything out of line so his objection would most likely be dismissed.
"In short, what is your professional diagnosis regarding Edward's experience?"
"I believe that before he left for Port Angeles he was the same as any other sixteen year old. From what his family and friends have all told me he was full of life, fun, a little down sometimes, which is normal for teenagers but otherwise pretty content with the way his life was. He didn't seem to have any problems in school or at home so there was no real worry for him at that point in time." She was going off of what notes she had taken in our sessions. She was right. There hadn't been any problems in school. I was a straight A student, on the basketball team, so I didn't have anything to worry about. At home, other than the odd fight with Emmett or Alice and disagreement with our parents, there was nothing to complain about.
I had been happy.
"But after he came back from Port Angeles, it's clear that something had happened. When he came to me, he was not the carefree teenager that had been described in the later session. He had difficulties with trust, he felt isolated and betrayed by those he cared about." I felt my mom stiffen next to me, hating that she was having to hear this. "And most importantly, to me at least, he was scared. He was afraid of being alone with people he should have been able to trust. His father, his brother, his best friends." She took a breath, closing her eyes before looking down at me from where she sat. "What I know, is that before June 17th of last year, Edward Cullen was a normal, happy teenager but after that day, he was turned into someone that was afraid in his own home. He is now suffering from depression and PTSD. And issues such as those do not appear in an average sixteen year old boy."
"Thank you." Marcus smiled at her. One she did not return. "Nothing further."
Before Marcus had even sat down, Stefan was out of his seat and heading towards Carmen. Whereas Marcus's stance had been friendly, inviting and unthreatening, Stefan's reminded me of that of a lion ready to pounce on his unsuspecting prey.
The only difference was, Carmen had her eye on him and was expecting an attack.
"Dr. Rappore." His tone to my ears was sleazy, smarmy and it was clear he thought the sun shone out of his ass. "How long have you been a therapist?"
"Thirteen years."
"And in those thirteen years, have you seen teenagers such as these before?"
"Too many times." She closed her eyes for a moment before straightening slightly, opening her eyes to keep watch on him.
He nodded once, looking over at my parents and I? What the hell was going through his mind? I couldn't help but feel scared about what angle he was going to throw at Carmen. He wasn't going to try to back her into a corner was he? She was too smart to fall for something like that, right?
"And what was the reasoning behind the majority of the cases you dealt with?"
She hesitated for a moment, unsure if she should answer the question. I was sure it was a confidentiality issue she was having problems with, rather than anything else. She glanced at the judge, who nodded, seeming to understand her reluctance to answer. Surely if no specific cases or names were mentioned, it wasn't breaking the doctor/patient confidentiality, right? "They were often victims of abuse."
"In their own homes?"
"Yes."
"And I'm sure that something like suffering abuse in your own home could cause disorders such as depression and Post Traumatic Stress, am I right?" I didn't like the way he referred to them as 'disorders' and it seemed, neither did Carmen because, even from where I was sat, I saw her eyes harden and her lips formed a tight line.
"I can see perfectly clear where your questions are headed, Mr. Microné and I can assure you, there is no abuse in that boys' home." Her tone was cold and harsh as she glared at Stefan. "I have been counselling abused teenagers and children my entire career and can see abuse in a home from a mile away. There is nothing but love and nurturing in the Cullen household. And don't you dare insinuate otherwise."
He held his hands up, as though he was backing off as he turned and took a few steps in front of the stand before turning and walking back in the opposite direction. Why the hell did they feel the need to do that? Was it some kind of diversionary tactic or something? "I understand that you've become very close to the boy, maybe there is something there but you're just not seeing it?"
"I don't think so." Carmen all but snarled at him. She was pissed and it wasn't something I wanted to hear again.
He questioned her about the differences in my behaviour from what she knew about me before I was attacked and from what she had experienced with me afterwards. She gave exactly the same answers as she had when Marcus had questioned her. He tried getting her from a couple of different angles but her answers never deviated or and she didn't contradict herself once.
She was amazing.
After Stefan had finally muttered 'no more questions' the court was adjourned for the day. I was more than relieved when I realised that I wouldn't have to testify just yet. But that relief didn't last long as I soon realised that because I didn't have to testify just yet, the worry, anxiety and fear I had concerning the questions they would ask could only grow.
My parents said that they were proud of me for going today, that I didn't have to. But in my mind, I did have to go. I had to prove to myself and to everyone else around me that I was strong enough to do this. I was strong enough to face what had happened to me.
I wouldn't let him win.
. . . . . .
The next few days in court passed in the same way. Marcus would meet us just inside the courthouse and Stefan would appear a little while after, smirking as though he had nothing in the world to worry about.
But he did.
From what I could see, he didn't have the backing of the jury that he wanted. He could see that he was losing them.
I had been shocked when they had managed to find the EMT's on call the night I was attacked and managed to get them to agree to take the stand. Or they may have been subpoenaed. I wasn't entirely sure about that. Marcus was revelling in what they were telling him. How they had received the call in about an injured male by the large music store in Port Angeles and how each of them had described finding me and my various injuries. They hadn't been allowed in the room at the same time, for fear of influence, but that wasn't necessary. Their stories were pretty much identical. They had both said that there was no way they would ever forget finding me. I wasn't sure how I felt about that.
They had managed to survive Stefan's questions as well and he had even had the nerve to ask them if they were certain about the rape aspect. To which the woman, Maggie, had practically spat at him, 'he was barely conscious, sobbing, half naked and bleeding, what the hell do you think?' He hadn't liked that but I had seen a couple of small smirks from the members of the jury.
Marcus really wasn't getting what he wanted out of this case.
They had managed to track down the two EMT's that had answered the call about Ben and they relayed pretty much the same things the previous two had.
Court had been in session for about a week and I was stressing out. I was sat outside, waiting to be called in, unable to actually be in the courtroom at the moment.
Ben was on the stand.
And that meant I was next.
Some part of me wanted to get it over with today but some part of me wanted to hightail it out of there and run as far as I could. I hear Chicago is pretty nice this time of year.
"Honey?" My mom placed a hand on my knee, trying to stop it from bouncing. It didn't work. "It'll be okay. You'll be alright. Did you take your medication?" I nodded, closing my eyes. I had taken the anti-anxiety about an hour ago and normally it would have kicked in by now. Apparently, today was not one of the days where it worked.
"Edward?" I looked over at Carmen, relieved she was here. "Remember what we talked about? You can do this. What did we agree on yesterday?"
I had had a session with Carmen yesterday, organised by my parents as an 'emergency session' because I had been practically climbing the walls, freaking out about having to testify today and we had spent about two hours going over what I was afraid of. "I can do this." I whispered softly and she nodded. "I have to do this."
"You can do this, Edward." My dad said softly from where he was standing a little way away. "We're gonna be right there with you."
"Um . . ." I took a deep breath, hating what I was about to say, but needing it out there anyway. "Could you two . . . not come in. Please." I didn't look at either of them as my mom's fingers clenched slightly around my knee. "It's going to be hard enough as it is and I don't . . . I don't want you to hear . . . what he did to me. Please understand." The last request was nothing more than a whisper but they both heard it. They both nodded slowly, understanding what I was asking of them. I knew that even though they wanted to be there for me, they also didn't want to know what had happened to me in detail.
Before I knew it, Ben had finished, the recess the judge had called was over, I found myself numbly walking towards the witness stand, not really paying attention to anything. All I could focus on was letting my breath in and out slowly so I would not have a panic attack right there in the courtroom.
I vaguely registered the bible being placed in front of me and being asked to raise my hand while putting my other on the book. Then the oath everyone had to take when entering the witness stand. For some reason, one I never understood, they asked me to reiterate my name. Surely they knew who I was seeing as they had called me up here. Maybe it was for official records or something like that.
Thankfully, it was Marcus that walked up to me first. "Hey, Edward."
"Hi," I replied softly, taking a deep breath.
"How you doing?" He asked, clearly concerned for how I really was in this moment.
"Been better." He gave me a small smile before he started asking questions. Thankfully, he started with easy ones like where I was on the night of June 17th 2000 and why I was there. It didn't take long before he had to get into the stuff, this time last year, I was sure I would take to the grave.
"And when you realised what he was going to do, what did you do?" Marcus looked like he didn't really want to know the answer to the question, but he had to ask.
"I tried to get away . . ." I sniffed, trying not to let the tears that were threatening to fall break loose. "But he told the others to hold me down."
"And they did?" I nodded, taking another deep breath, cursing myself as a tear slid down my cheek. I could still hear them laughing and jeering at me as they forced me onto my front, I could still smell the alcohol that seemed to seep out of their very pores, I could still see the way they were each watching what was going on in front of them and not doing anything about it and I could still feel the excruciating pain as he forced his way inside me, feeling as though I was going to split in half at any moment.
Marcus eased me through the rest of his questions and I couldn't hold back the tears. I just let them flow silently down my cheeks as I spoke about the worst night of my life.
Unfortunately, I knew the worst was yet to come as Marcus sat down and Stefan stood up, making his way over to me, a small look of glee on his face. I could see the cogs working in his mind and I didn't want to know what he was concocting in his mind. Other than this clients' testimony, I was the last one up here. I was his last ditch attempt at making the jury see things his way.
"Hello, Edward." He smiled at me, but it wasn't welcoming in any way. It was more of a sneer than a smile but no one other than myself could see it.
"Hello." I replied, my voice hard. I was determined not to let him get to me. Which I would have to admit, was probably going to be easier said than done.
"A moment ago, you told the court that you'd been in the music store for quite a while. How long were you in there exactly?" Huh?
I shrugged, shaking my head. "A couple of hours."
"Why?" What the hell did that have to do with anything?
"I love music. I always used to spend hours in there. I wouldn't realise how long it had been since I walked into the store. I'd forget." I stared straight at him, wondering what he was getting at here.
"Can anyone attest to that?"
"Sure, the owners of the store, Liam and Siobhan. I was always in there."
"What time did you leave the store on that day?"
"It was just starting to get dark, so about nine thirty." I shrugged, wondering what he wanted to know that for. "They didn't close until ten during the summer."
"Was there anyone else in the store with you?" He asked and I had a feeling he was getting to where he wanted to with his questions.
"No." I shook my head, suddenly seeing where this was going. "There was just me and Liam in there when I left."
"So there was no one else that could confirm what time you left the store then?" He raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing.
"I know what time it was." I shot back, narrowing my eyes at him. "I had my cell out, about to call my parents when I noticed them standing there."
"And you did nothing to gain their attention?"
"Unless you call walking down the street towards my car trying to 'gain their attention' then no, I didn't." I replied, feeling myself getting a little more than worked up. "I did nothing to them, yet for some reason, they chose to ruin my life."
"'Ruin your life'? That's a bit drastic, isn't it?" He sounded mocking, as though he knew what I had been through and thought I was overreacting.
"No." I shook my head, wanting to shove it back in his face. "He raped me. Because of what he did, I can't go a day without taking some form of medication, I can't sit down with my family and have a meal without itching to get out of the room and away from all of them purely because they're people and they're there, I can't have a conversation with my father without wanting to bolt or scream at him to get away from me. I can't go to the movies or even go out with my friends because I'm scared. I can hardly even go to school anymore because there are too many people there. I haven't had a full night's sleep in a year because even with the meds and Carmen, I have nightmares that make me physically sick. It takes medication and therapy for me to even get through the day anymore. Tell me, does that sound like a normal teenager?"
By the time I had finished, the tears had started again and I heard a couple of sniffles come from people behind Stefan, who was looking a little shocked at my outburst. Clearly, he hadn't expected me to come out with something like that.
His questions were brutal, not giving me an inch to try and answer them coherently. It was as though he was trying to turn me completely crazy in front of the jury. By the end of it, I was no more than a snivelling mess on the stand as he strode back to his seat.
I made my way out of the courtroom as quickly as possible when they said I could step down and my mom was there instantly as I collapsed into one of the chairs outside the courtroom. She had her arms around me, her fingers running through my hair as I sobbed. She gently rocked back and forth as she comforted me and I was grateful for her being there. I hadn't needed my mom as much as I did then.
"Marcus." My dad mumbled and I heard him walk over to him. I looked up to see him staring at me with a clouded look, as though he was trying to rid himself of the information he had just gathered inside that room. "What the hell happened in there?"
"Edward," he looked at me, remaining where he was, having been warned of my aversion to touch. "I know it doesn't seem like it but this can be a good thing. Him verbally attacking you in the way he did makes him look desperate and will help the case. It's a good thing."
"How?" My sister shot back, tears streaming down her face. "I mean, you heard how he spoke to Edward in there. There was nothing good about that." Alice had been in there? When did that happen?
"Actually, yes there is." He looked between us all, wondering how to proceed, most likely. "I know it doesn't seem like it, but this can benefit us and the case and could take us one step closer to having this guy put away."
"How do you figure?" The words were out of my mouth before I realised I'd wanted to say them.
"Alice?" She sniffed, looking up at him. "How did Edward seem on the stand when Stefan was questioning him?"
"Um . . ." she looked at me, clearly not sure how to answer. I nodded, silently telling her I didn't want her to sugarcoat anything purely to spare my feelings. Stefan surely hadn't. "He seemed small and . . . scared."
"Exactly." Marcus looked at me again. "If your sister saw you that way, then there's a big chance the jury did as well. This is going to sound crass but we want the jury to see Edward as the, scared and alone sixteen year old boy he was when all of this happened."
We sat there for a few minutes, digesting what Marcus had said before he sighed quietly and said that recess was over. I hadn't even acknowledged that people had been coming and going from the courtroom while we had been sat there.
"I don't want to go back in there." I shook my head, shrinking away from the door. "I can't go back in there." I couldn't go in there and hear him tell the jury and the rest of them in there all the lies he and his lawyer had cooked up to set him free.
"Hey," I looked up to see Ben standing there, looking pretty much the way I felt. Beaten. Broken. "You going back in?" I shook my head and he sighed, looking down the corridor. I followed his gaze and saw his mother and father walking towards us.
"Emmett?" My dad said softly, walking over to my brother. "Why don't you kids go to the coffee shop down the street? Try and take your minds off of everything, yeah?" He looked at me and I nodded, not wanting to stay here anymore. I stood up and my mom wrapped her arms around me, whispering that everything was going to be okay. I didn't have it in me to argue with her at this point. I just wanted it over.
We all walked down the street towards the small coffee house on the corner. Ben had come with us, his parents not wanting him to be alone. They wanted to know what the monster that had attacked their son – their words, not mine – had to say for himself, as did mine, but like me, Ben had no intentions of going back into that room. Marcus had said that he felt it was an open and shut case and that the jury would most likely reach a verdict today, so we were going to wait for them to tell us what the outcome was. I couldn't be there in case he was set free.
I don't think I could handle that.
We sat in the coffee shop making small talk for well over three hours before Emmett's iPhone started to beep, signalling an incoming call. "It's Dad." He said softly, answering the call. I tried to pay attention to what Emmett was saying but I couldn't. I looked at Ben to see that he had the same look I probably did in his eyes. Fear.
Alice placed her hand over mine, her fingers gently squeezing and I squeezed back, giving her a small smile. We all looked at Emmett as he hung up the phone, placing it on the table before looking at us.
"Twenty-five years." He said softly. "He got twenty-five years for two counts of assault and two counts of rape."
"He was found guilty?" I breathed and he nodded. I let out a breath and could have cried if I'd had the energy to do so. "He's gone." I whispered and Ben nodded, smiling himself. "He's gone."
"Mom and Dad want us to meet them at Bella Italia." I inhaled quickly, knowing the route we would have to take to get there. Apparently, Emmett had already thought of that because he smiled at me. "We'll take the long way round."
True to his word, we took a different way round to the restaurant and my mom and dad were already waiting for us. Ben had gone and met his parents. They said they were heading straight home seeing as they lived closer than we did. They invited us to join them but my mom and dad declined saying that they needed for this to be a family evening.
I couldn't have agreed more.
For the last year dinner with my family was something I had been afraid of, but sitting here – in a restaurant, with other people, no less – I felt nothing but calm and, dare I say it, happy.
"You okay, Teddy?" Alice asked and I rolled my eyes at the stupid nickname she'd given me when we were little. I nodded, smiling at her. "You're just quiet, that's all."
"And that's unusual because . . .?" Emmett smirked and I shook my head, laughing.
"Now, now, you three, behave. Today, although it's been hard, has been a good day." My dad said softly, watching me closely. I nodded because it had. Hopefully, after today, I could finally start to really get over what had happened to me. "Unfortunately, we didn't get to celebrate a very special birthday that happened a few days ago, but it doesn't mean we've forgotten the little twins sat at the table." Alice and I looked at each other, wondering what he was going to pull. "Your mother and I have organized something for the two of you and you'll find out what it is in due time," okay, confused and Alice seemed the same way, "and we have presents for you back at the house."
"Presents?" That was all Alice needed to be ready to leave. "What are we waiting for? Let's go."
We all laughed and I felt more relaxed than I had done in a long time. I couldn't help but laugh at Alice as she practically bounced to the car, getting annoyed with dad as he unlocked the car only to lock it again when she went to open it. I wasn't sure how many times he'd played that game with her, but I knew she would never get the hint.
. . . . . .
"Presents!" I chuckled as I climbed out of the car slowly, annoying Alice no end as Emmett did the same. She had been sat in the middle of the two of us and had been practically vibrating with excitement the entire ride home.
Once she was free of the confines of the car, she ran into the house and waited for mom and dad to enter.
"Alright, considering she's going to explode if you don't let her have it, why don't you give Alice her present first?" I suggested and everyone laughed. Well, except Alice, who scowled at me. I answered her by sticking out my tongue.
"Alice?" She turned to face my mom who was holding out a small box. "Happy Birthday, sweetheart." She opened the box to find an old fashioned key in there. We all knew which room it was for and she turned and made her way down the corridor, looking slightly confused. This door was always locked, or at least had been for the last few months and now we knew why.
I cringed slightly as Alice squealed upon opening the door and turning on the light switch. I glanced inside and grinned at her jumping from thing to thing. She kind of reminded me of the Tasmanian Devil. The room had been turned into a designers dream. There were tables with enough room for anything you could think to put on there, rolls of material of bars hanging from the wall, ribbons, dressmakers dummies and a whole load of other stuff I had no idea what to do with or even call. Apparently, Alice knew what she was doing because she seemed ecstatic with it.
"Edward, sweetheart." I turned away from my hyperactive sister and turned to face my mom. "Your present is up in your room, sweetheart."
Looking once more at Alice, I chuckled, shaking my head before making my way upstairs. Emmett followed me, claiming that whatever they'd got me had to be better than running the risk of being caught up in Alice's fabric.
I opened the door to find a large present in the centre of my room. "Cool." Emmett grinned and I laughed at his enthusiasm. It wasn't even his birthday present and he was excited. He stood just on the other side of the doorway as I made my way into my room. I turned and saw him looking a little uncomfortable standing there.
"Come in, Emmett." He looked at me, probably wondering if I was being serious, stepping over into my room when I nodded.
I knelt down in front of the present and reached up for the large bow on top – no doubt my mom's idea – tugging it gently.
"Wah!" I jumped back as the present moved. I mean, actually freaking moved! And not just because I'd pulled on the bow.
"What?" Emmett looked between me and the present, wondering what the hell was going on.
"It moved." I stated simply and he looked at me as though I'd lost my mind. "I'm serious. It moved."
"Well, open it and then we can find out why." He said as though it was the simplest thing in the world. Kind of was really, don't you think?
I reached up again and yanked on the bow, tearing at the paper around what appeared to be a small cage rather than a box. I felt my eyes widen and my jaw drop as I saw what was inside. "Cool!" Emmett was grinning next to me and I couldn't help but smile, myself.
It was a husky puppy. A gorgeous husky puppy. Purebred, no doubt about it. It looked only to be a couple of months at the most.
I moved around to the front of the cage and opened the door. It sat there for a moment, looking at me, probably wondering what the hell I was and what I wanted. After a moment or two I held my hand out and it moved forward slowly, sniffing as it approached me. Clearly pleased with my scent, a long slippery tongue found its way across my hand and I laughed.
"Come here," I encouraged it out of the cage and it came out, cautiously before standing in front of me. I wrapped my arms around it – or should I say, her – and pulled her into my lap. "Oh, you're beautiful, aren't you, girl?" I was answered by her sniffing my ear and sneezing. "Thanks."
"How do you know it's a girl?" Emmett asked, clearly confused.
"The lack of a dick helps to make that distinction, Emmett." I rolled my eyes, chuckling.
"So, you like her, then?" I turned to see my mom and dad standing there, watching us as I played with my new pet.
"Yeah," I grinned down at the puppy as she looked up at me. "Is it right that has blue eyes?"
"Yes, it is." My dad grinned, watching as I stroked the small animal that was trying to climb me. "She's a Siberian Husky and it's a trait that they have blue eyes."
"What are you going to call her?" Emmett asked, laughing as she gave up trying to climb her way up onto my shoulder and flopped against my chest. "She's laid back. Awesome."
"Any ideas on a name?" My mom asked and I thought for a minute as I stroked her gently.
"Molly." I said quietly, looking over at my parents who smiled at me. "What do you think? You like the name Molly?" I asked her and she sneezed again before looking up at me. "I'll take that as a yes."
"Hello, Molly." Emmett clapped his hands together and she scrambled out of my lap and made her way over to him. She was tiny compared to Emmett, but I knew from reading about Huskies that she would be able to overpower him soon enough. "I think she likes the name."
"I think so too." I tapped on the floor gently and she turned, running back towards me before head butting me in the chest. I looked up at my parents and they smiled at me.
"We knew that you were feeling alone, sweetheart, so we figured, instead of pressuring you to talk to someone else, other than Carmen of course, that we'd get you some company that wouldn't talk back. Well, she might have a few opinions of her own, you never know, but she's there for comfort if and when you need it." I looked down at the puppy that now had hold of the sleeve of the jacket I had yet to take off in her mouth, seeming to enjoy the hell out of trying to kill the offensive material and I couldn't help but grin. She was innocence and that was just what I needed.
"Thank you." I said softly, pulling her to me, nuzzling my nose into her fur. Of course she didn't that to be one sided so she decided she was going to sniff my hair as well. It was a bonding moment, okay?
That night, when I went to sleep with Molly curled up next to me, I didn't feel quite so afraid as I normally did. I could only hope things would get better from here.
. . . . . .
"Now, I know you've been to Port Angeles since you were attacked, but have you been back to the music store?" Carmen asked and I looked up at her, wondering what the hell she was playing at?
"You know I haven't." I answered and she nodded once.
"You've come a long way in the last four months, Edward." She said softly and I knew she was being serious when she said something like that. Since the trial, I knew that there was something inside me that was able to let go, in a sense. Sure I had nightmares and avoided crowded places as much as I could but things were getting better.
I could be in a room with my dad, Emmett, Jasper and Charlie without freaking out now. My dad and Emmett could even touch me now. My dad could give me brief hugs before I tensed and started to panic but apparently, it was all progress.
I had even gotten up the courage to ask Bella out on a date and she had said yes. We had been together for about a month now and to me that was the biggest step. After what happened to me, I didn't think that I'd be able trust anyone enough to have a relationship but apparently, medication and therapy could work wonders.
Yes, I was still on the medication. While Carmen had been optimistic about me only being on it for a short while, when she had tried weaning me off them, the anxiety and panic attacks returned full force. After two weeks on the restricted dosage I couldn't take anymore and I practically freaked out on everyone. Not surprisingly, Carmen put me back on them. Since then she didn't think I'd be able to go without taking them for a long time, if ever.
I wasn't happy about having to take pills for the rest of my life but if it meant I could function somewhat normally, I would take them without question.
"But no matter how far you've come, you won't be able to take that final step and let go if you don't do one simple thing." She was being cryptic. I hated it when she was like this.
"What?"
"Go back there."
I looked up at her, shaking my head. "I can't." I whispered and she smiled at me.
"Yes, you can." She sounded so certain. "It doesn't have to be today, tomorrow or even next week but going back there will be one of the biggest challenges you can face. To see the place that changed your life. It might terrify you but you'll soon see that . . . it's just a place. Bricks, mortar, concrete and nothing more. It's not the place you're afraid of. It's the memories and you deal with those every single day, Edward. But . . . there is one important thing to remember. You can't do this for anyone else other than you. Don't do it for me, your parents, your siblings, your friends or even Bella. It has to be for you." I nodded, taking a deep breath. "Will you at least try? You don't have to do it all in one go. Build up to it. Just driving to the next street and sitting in the car for the first try, and then maybe getting out of the car the next time. Don't push yourself. Only go with what you can handle."
I nodded, letting out a slow breath. "Okay." I whispered, still nodding slightly. "I'll try."
"That's all I ask." She smiled and I felt like I might have achieved something today.
Getting home, I barely stepped into the house before Molly was running around my feet. She was now six months old and growing every day. After reading up a lot about Siberian Huskies, I knew that she wouldn't stop growing completely until she was about eighteen months old. And she was gonna be big.
"She's already been fed, so don't let her fool you." My mom smirked and I laughed, knowing Molly's tendencies to push it as far as she could for food. She was like a canine Emmett.
"You been a good girl?" I fussed her for a couple of minutes while she sniffed and licked my ear, just like she did the first day I got her. Apart from she didn't sneeze this time.
"How was therapy?" My mom asked and I let out a breath.
"It was okay." I made my way into the kitchen, Molly on my heels. She didn't leave me alone while I was in the house, following me everywhere. "Carmen thinks that I need to go back to the music store. Where it happened. Finally get over that hurdle."
"What do you think?" She placed the hand towel she had been folding on the island in front of her, watching me intently.
"I don't know." I sighed, sitting down on one of the stools. Molly made a slight grumbling sound as she slid down and lay down next to the stool, looking very elegant even though she was anything but. "I know that it's something I need to do but . . . I don't know if I'm ready."
"Unfortunately, I can't tell you, sweetie." She gave me a sad smile. "That's something you have to work out on your own."
"Lot of help you were." I mock scowled and she laughed, knowing I wasn't being serious. I jumped down off the stool and made my way out of the kitchen. "Come on, Molls." She immediately followed me, racing me up the stairs. She won, as always. There was a definite advantage in having four legs over having two. When I got up there she was lying on my bed, looking smug as always. "Alright, you win. Again."
I sat down at my desk and she moved to sit at my feet as always. Well I say at my feet, when I really mean on my feet. She kept them warm, so that's all that mattered.
"You alright down there?" I asked after about half an hour of trying to write an English assignment I really couldn't be assed to do. "What you wanna do, huh, girl?"
"You talking to your dog again, son?" I turned to see my dad standing in the doorway, grinning at me. Molly immediately went to say hello as he knelt down to fuss her.
"Well, that's why you bought her for me, wasn't it?" I laughed, watching their little greeting turn into a playfight as it always did. "You know, one of these days she's going to bite you, Dad and I'm going to laugh."
"Nah, she won't." He laughed, pushing her away and she ran straight back over to me. "She's just playful, that's all."
That was true. There was nothing really dangerous about Molly. Sure, she was a good deterrent for anyone thinking about trying to rob the place but that was it. If anyone broke in, she'd probably waltz up to them, say hi and then proceed to show them where all the good stuff was. Not really a good guard dog but she's my baby.
"Your mom told me what you said about therapy." I nodded, knowing she would have done. "Are you going to go?"
"I really should, but I don't know if I'm ready." I replied honestly, not wanting to hold anything in anymore. Since the trial, I'd been better about letting people know my feelings. It was as though it had taken a weight off me, allowing me to voice what I needed to rather than keeping everything boxed in.
"Only you can make that choice, son." He smiled at me and I gave him one back. I knew that I was the only one that could make the decision to finally let go. Which was why two days later, I was parking on the street down from the music store in Port Angeles, Molly in the back of the car, trying to get up the courage to get out.
For some reason, having Molly there with me made everything seem a little easier. She would be there for me as a source of comfort and not say anything, not judge me in any way if I chickened out. She was my baby and she was always there for me.
I let out a breath, climbing out of the car before I opened the backdoor, clipping Molly's leash onto her collar before allowing her to get out of the car. One thing I'd learned about Molly was that if you let her out without a leash, she'd run and you had to try and catch her. Not a fun time. Well, it was for her, not so much for me.
I locked the car and made my way down the street, pausing before I rounded the corner. She looked up at me, confused as to why we'd stopped before sitting down and waiting for me. I rubbed behind her ear for a moment or two before steeling myself and taking the last few final steps and coming face to face with the place that had been site where my life had changed forever.
Carmen had been right.
It wasn't as though the place could physically harm me. No, it was the people here who had done that. And they were locked away for a long time. They couldn't hurt me anymore.
As I looked at the music store and then let my eyes travel down towards the alley where I'd had my innocence and dignity ripped painfully from me, I wasn't sure what I was feeling. Maybe I wasn't really supposed to feel anything. I walked along the sidewalk with Molly beside me, stopping where they'd first tripped me, the memories rushing through my mind as I stood there, I finally felt like I'd achieved something through the pain, anger, depression and therapy.
I felt like I could let the past go and move forward.
Finally.