It's About Power
Chapter 23
I needed to think, on my own, away from the hotel. The next day, after sleeping until noon, I took the subway to Battery Park. I walked through the gardens of dormant plants and brittle branches to the promenade. I leaned over the railing and stared across the harbor at the Statue of Liberty. The afternoon sun reflected on the gray water. I watched the choppy waves flicker with reflected light. It occurred to me that even though I loved nighttime, I would miss the day if I somehow became a vampire. I'd miss picnics in the afternoon, tanning in my chaise on the lawn, swimming in the community pool.
A breeze swept up off the water and whipped my ponytail against my neck. I stared past the statue, past the harbor, past all of the sights and sounds of New York. I looked out so far that I was bouncing back to myself. Twenty-six years, I'd lived in Bon Temps, Louisiana. I'd had a fairly original life. From my first memory, I'd been able to read people's thoughts. That's a strange ability to grow up with. I was never a comic book fan, but Jason read them when we were small. He liked this one Marvel series, X-Men. I saw the movie a few years back, and I could completely relate. Here was this group of unusual people that had really unusual lives. This one heroine, a young girl named Marie, couldn't touch people. She wanted to be intimate with someone, just hug them or kiss them, but her ability kept her locked up and closed off from the world. I knew all about what that was like.
My parents couldn't really explain my telepathy. I read their thoughts. I usually commented on them, because I was just a kid and I didn't understand. They'd try to come up with explanations or just ignore it all together. I lost them when I was still trying to make sense of it all, and that didn't make things easier. Gran seemed pretty okay with the whole thought-reading thing, but I never read her. Jason is iffy about it. He uses my ability to his advantage when he can, and the rest of the time, he pretends that I'm normal. My brother's a butthead, but I love him.
I grew up in small town Louisiana, and because I couldn't really date anyone and I had trouble making friends because I could read their thoughts, I was fairly sheltered from the things that most people learn as they grow up. Sure, I had second hand knowledge. I heard all about dating and first time sex experiences and how sucky boys think girls are and how sucky girls think boys are. I heard about bad prom nights and good prom nights, marriages and divorces, giving birth, all that sort of thing. But I didn't know what it was really like until I met Bill.
I knew exactly why I let Bill into my life. I just didn't want to admit it. I wanted to feel something, and once I had a taste of it, I didn't want to lose it. I kept trying to make it work, long after it should have stopped. Gran had always raised me to be fairly independent, and yet I leaned on Bill like the ball attached to a chain. I let him make all the decisions and I just agreed to them. If we kept playing his way, we could keep playing. Bill wasn't the type of guy that wanted to play it any other way but his own. He couldn't be reasoned with and he refused to be shown an alternative route. But at the time, I didn't care. I wanted to hold on to that relationship because it was the only one I'd ever had.
Another breeze came up off the water and I inhaled the salty smell of the harbor. It wasn't just that I wanted to keep hold of something. I wanted to hold on and Bill didn't want to let go. Right then and there, on that sidewalk in front of the New York Harbor, I realized he'd taken advantage of me. I don't know what you're like. I don't know what you've seen in your life. I don't know who you are. But Sookie Stackhouse? She's an individual. She's a fighter and she's a survivor. She doesn't take shit from anyone. That made it hard. How can you admit someone took advantage of you, victimized you, abused you? How can you believe that you weren't in control? How do you settle that with yourself? Some part of me still couldn't admit it, couldn't reconcile it. I couldn't form the words but I knew what the words were. That time would come.
I was fighting a battle in my head. I knew the logic behind all the answers, but my heart refused to agree with them. I knew I showed all the signs, and I knew that Bill's actions were the exact replica of the ones you'd expect in a relationship gone very wrong. But the words on paper aren't very convincing. They're only profiles of a stereotypical person. He's fits the description but that doesn't make it real. I'm going through all the symptoms, but you can't diagnose me with the flu, feed me some antibiotics, and expect it to be alright. Whatever was wrong with me, whatever my problem was, it wasn't going to be fixed easily.
But for the first time, I was ready to try. I needed to let go. I couldn't go on holding onto the memories forever, letting them keep me bottled up and shoved into a corner. I couldn't keep myself closed off and plugged up. It required a lot of strength, and a lot of trust. I had to trust Eric, and more importantly, I had to trust myself. I had to know that I could hold onto myself when I needed to and let my grip loosen when the time came. It was all in my head, this struggle. No one was forcing me to keep up the shields. No one was telling me what to do anymore, expecting me to follow orders like an automaton. I was in control, and I had to make all the decisions.
Two years. Two years since I'd first seen Bill walk into Merlotte's, two years since I'd marveled at his confidence and his control. I'd spent a year of my life pinned to his side, but it was the longest year I'd ever lived. I spent it in a state of constant tension, worrying about what I might do wrong, how I might lose him. I don't think he ever intended to give me up. He had me right where he wanted me, afraid. I never would have left him if I'd stayed afraid. I spent another year trying to get over him, trying to find the self I'd lost. I didn't have much luck. I was so closed off from possibility, from chance, that there was no part of the original Sookie left at all.
I spent a year tucked away from harm, but the thing about harm is that it makes you who you are. I didn't like the person I'd become with Bill, but I really hated the person I was after I cast him from my life. I was too afraid to reach out to others, to ask for help. I was choking off reality and I couldn't see past the filter of my crazy emotional trauma. Everyone was out to get me. Everyone was trying to hurt me. I wasn't safe unless I was bottled up in the bubble of control that I spent every waking moment in. That was the person I'd become. All because I'd let Bill Compton into my life.
The thoughts seem easy enough on paper, but I spent most of the day out at Battery Park. I watched children scamper away from their parents and hide behind the trunks of trees. I watched the ferry tote visitors out to Ellis Island and drag them back again. I watched the tide rise and fall. At sunset, the gray harbor sparkled gold. I let the brisk wind roll up under my shirt and sweep my hair over my shoulder. I thought about Eric and his heartfelt desire to keep me safe.
I contemplated a song I'd heard on the radio. What is it about music that seems to catch you off guard? It's like all the musicians of the world know exactly what you're thinking. We've been through all this shit before. I shut my eyes and hummed the melody. I let the lyrics play on my lips. The end of fear is where we begin, the moment we decided to let love in. I didn't love Eric Northman, but I wanted to let him into my life anyway. I needed to live again. I needed to remember what living was like. It had been so long since I'd tried to feel. I couldn't let it go, not all at once. But as long as I knew it was possible, I could take a step in the right direction.
I waved my hand at the first taxi I saw. I crawled into the backseat and directed him to the Mandarin Oriental Hotel. And because we were in New York, I told him to step on it.
A/N: Lyrics from "Let Love In" by the Goo Goo Dolls