Wow. So it's been like, what, 2 years since I last updated?
It has and hate me all you want, I deserve it. And I do have excuses but none of them are big enough for this.
All I can say is that i'm truly sorry. I really am, and the people who lost interest in it, I completely understand.
In case you forgot, here is what happened so far:
Callie's new math teacher is someone who raped her, Mr. Hutchinson.
Brandon found out about what the math teacher done and how Callie cuts herself, he tells Stef and Lena
They take Callie's clothes and get them tested for semen. It comes back positive for it, but can't identify if it came from him or not.
Her math teacher found out and is threatening Callie, again. Telling her that he'll kill people if she keeps admitting what he done.
Callie sees a therapist, a Kathryn Quinn, and is opening up.
I think I did all the major points, but if anything is confusing, please ask me or leave me a review. I promise i'll answer right away.
And the last chapter -Chapter 11- I'm still keeping it, but realized that it was a horrible idea so if you can, you can ignore that chapter if you want. I was kind of pointless and might have even made you more confused.
Anyways, please enjoy Chapter 12.
I'm so sorry, again.
As always, a disclaimer: This story will involve themes of self-harm, rape/sexual abuse, depression; please be aware.
And I do not own the Fosters. If so, I would be rich and not working at Walmart :)
We've got a little room to grow.
Better days are near,
Hope is so much stronger than fear.
Battle Scars by Paradise Fears
After the little stunt in the hospital bed, and how they went to Callie's favorite restaurant, Callie decided to eat something and figured that her body missed the food; she ate a bunch and gulped down her food in an instant. They were all a little shocked, but decided that she was just happy to be out of the hospital.
Callie decided that the needing to lose weight was too drastic and she blames it on her restless mind.
Now after that was solved, the only problem she had now was Mr. Hutchinson.
She still remembered his taste, his mouth, his scent… and it's stuff she wanted to forget, but not matter what, is was permanently marked in her brain forever. She hated how weak she was; but what else could she do? She couldn't have her family, Jude, or anyone else killed. Callie was known to be selfish all her life, but this was the one time she wasn't being selfish.
I just hope it pays to be selfless. Callie thought to herself as she slammed the car door and made her way back into the house, sitting on the couch and grabbing the remote before Jesus could have it.
"Hey, Callie! That's mine." He teased, sitting next to her and trying to grab the remote from her hand. Callie laughed and then raised it up higher, even standing on her knees, on the couch, raising it up and pushing Jesus off and landing him on the floor. She stopped and then looked down to see Jesus smile at her.
"Are you okay?" She asked, her voice hoarse and raspy, coming down from all the physical exercise.
Jesus gave a huge smile, glad to see that Callie was finally being a teenager and enjoying herself. He knew what was going on and wanted his sister to get better more than anything. He just relented and let Callie have the TV while he went upstairs to do his homework, bringing Jude with him.
Brandon sat next to Callie on the couch and put an arm around her. "What are you watching?" He asked, his voice laced with curiosity.
She just shrugged, her thumb flipping through channels on the TV to find a show that interests her. "I don't know. Whatever looks good I guess?" She mumbled, and liked the TV that was on. It was about a detective and a writer who were partnered up together. She knew, in the end, that they were going to get married but it was still fun to see their relationship develop.
While they were watching the TV, Brandon turned towards Callie and saw that she wasn't really watching the TV, but staring out the window, thinking about something. Brandon frowned and then gently cajoled Callie out of her thoughts. "Callie, what are you thinking about?"
She flinched at his voice and he instantly regretted it, but didn't apologize; knowing that Callie wouldn't like it and tell him not to apologize. It took her a second but her mask was back on and she faked a smile. "Nothing. Just… stuff."
Brandon gave her a disbelieving look, and wanted to try to get Callie to open up even more. "What kind of 'stuff'?" He asked softly, looking at her with the most sincere eyes that Callie almost admitted everything under his gaze.
But didn't.
She couldn't risk his life- or anyone's – lives.
"Just stuff." She explained again, moving her gaze downward; not meeting Brandon's pleading eyes.
Brandon knew that Callie would just close up if he said anything else so he just nodded, accepting her answer, and going back to watching Castle, but mainly watching Callie and the mosaic of emotions running across her face.
It was school the next day and Callie was nervous. She hated math, but knew that she couldn't skip the class. She just wondered what Mr. Hutchinson would have in store for her today.
She went to math class and sat in her assigned seat, trying to avoid Mr. Hutchinson's stare burning a hole through her skull. She covered her face up with her hair and sank down into her chair, getting out and writing down notes about math class that she didn't care much about.
"Okay class. Today we're having a pop quiz." The class –including Callie- groaned, but she was prepared for it. Not really, but he didn't need to know that.
He gave her the test with a note on top of it, written in red pen. Remember what I said. And she just nodded, trying her hardest to concentrate and ace the quiz, even though she knew it wasn't possible. She just hasn't studied enough.
It was almost the end of class and Callie desperately tried to think of the answer to the second to last question, but her mind was befuddled and she couldn't think about what to do. She knew that you had to get the "x" by itself, but she didn't remember how to do that. Between the therapy, her family, and Mr. Hutchinson, her mind was filled up and not focusing on math. She wanted to finish though because she knew Mr. Hutchinson would want her to stay after school to finish her test, and she didn't want that.
There was only so many excuses she could use as to staying after school, and after a while, her parents would get suspicious and Mr. Hutchinson knew that to as Callie turned in her test with a smile on her face. She tried her hardest (and it might have involved her coping some other girl's paper) but it was worth it to not stay after school. Today, at least.
There was a minute left to class and Callie made her way towards the door, ready to get out of there just as the bell rung.
She turned back to look at Mr. Hutchinson and he just gave her a sour look, one of distaste and pure hatred, but didn't say anything and didn't call her to stay after class.
When the bell rang, she made her way out of there and onto her next class; trying to think about what he would do to her if she didn't see him anymore.
She figured that she could go up to the police, tell them what happened, and let Mr. Hutchinson get a warrant for his semen, but she didn't want to take that chance. She couldn't have any die or get hurt because of what she did- or would do.
Nope. It was better to go through this pain than watch someone get hurt. Hurting herself she could handle, but having someone else hurt because of her: she couldn't.
It would kill her.
She went through the rest of the school as an empty slate; she was walking, talking, participating in class but she really wanted to be somewhere else- anywhere else- at least 1,000 feet away from a Mr. Hutchinson.
Although she knew that wasn't possible.
He had her trapped with empty (or maybe not so empty?) threats.
She happily lifted her backpack up and made her way outside when the bell rang. Brandon offered to give her a ride home today and she accepted.
Once she got home, she went up to her room to do homework but the moms interrupted her.
"Callie? Can we talk to you?" She groaned, but confused as to what this was about. She didn't act suspiciously and she definitely didn't tell anyone or believe they found out because who would tell?
She nodded, setting down her backpack and sitting on the wooden chair, facing her foster parents. "We've been thinking of… adopting you and Jude into our family for good. We're never going to get rid of you, no matter what. And we just wanted to be sure that you're okay with it?" They asked her with such a heartfelt smile that she didn't have the heart to say no. She always wanted to be part of a good family- one she had- and now she finally got that chance.
"Oh, and also, we made your next appointment for tomorrow right after school. So one of us will pick you up, alright?" They asked her and she nodded, not really wanting to go to therapy but not wanting to make her new parents worried and make them even more suspicious.
She crossed her arms and groaned. "Fine. Can I do my homework now?" She begged them and when they nodded, she flung her backpack over her shoulder and made her way up to her room, focusing on all the homework she had to make up.
She was thinking about what the therapist would ask her.
She hoped it was nothing deep down.
After the school day, Brandon was going to hang with his friends while Callie would go to therapy. She greeted Lena with a smile and they made their way to the counseling place. She knew that Mr. Hutchinson would get suspicious but she couldn't say anything about not going to therapy without raising questions.
So when they got to the building and Lena dropped Callie off, she was thinking about running away and never going to the meeting but knew that it would only make a bad situation worse. So she took a deep breath and made her way to the door and signed in. She waited for her therapist to come.
After reading a couple of magazines, her therapist stepped out to the waiting room and saw Callie. She greeted her in an overly enthusiastic voice which made Callie cringe. She hated bubbly, happy people.
They made their way to the room where she sat on one of the chairs.
The therapist smiled, letting Callie get comfortable before asking her some questions. She was going to start easy, to ease her into the more serious questions and to make her feel more comfortable. "So, Callie, how was the last couple of days?" She asked, looking softly at her, meeting her eyes and letting her know that it was okay to speak the truth.
Callie just shrugged and looked down at her arms which were covered with long sleeves. "Fine." She spoke, but knew that it wasn't going to pass with the therapist. They knew better.
The therapist gave a small smile, it was an answer she was used to, especially with teenagers. "Fine is so broad. Are you happy? Ecstatic? Great? What are you?" She cajoled softly, wanting her to open up to her. From what she knows of Callie she knows that she is a strong teenager who has been through way too much. And she knew that after dealing with all this pain by herself, that it would be hard for her to open up to anyone- especially someone she met in only a session.
Callie never looked up, but thought about her answer. "I'm great. Just great." She gave a faux enthusiastic smile and the therapist didn't groan or get mad, she expected this answer. All teenagers usually answered with sarcasm.
"You say you're 'great', but your voice says differently." She noted, and then lowered her voice a little more and hoping to make this next sentence sound sincere. "Callie, I know you don't want to be here. I know you wanted to skip." Callie looked shocked at this, wondering if the therapist could read her mind or followed her while she got here.
Maybe she has a camera in her room.
"And no, Callie, I do not have a camera in the room to spy on you. It's just what most teenagers in therapy want to do." She added softly, easing her fears even though she scoffed. She started again, "I know that you're not 'fine'. No one who has been through what you have could be 'fine'. I know you don't trust me, but I hope after a while you can. I'm here to help you, Callie, believe it or not. I care about you. I don't do this for money or to hear fascinating stories because the truth is, is that I could find a job that pays more money. But I love helping children- teenagers especially. I have clients who are exactly like you and after opening up to someone, other than someone they know, is good for them. I know you're scared at what could happen. What Mr. Hutchinson could say, but trust me that he can't get you in here. You're safe."
She hoped that after her little speech that Callie would open up just a tiny bit more. Because she knew Callie had a wonderful life ahead of her- she was beautiful, smart, strong-willed, passionate- all things you need to be successful. And she knew that if she continued down this path of self-destruction that she could ruin that chance and she didn't want that. She knew Callie didn't want that either.
Callie's gaze seemed too softened and the therapist could tell that slowly her walls were breaking down; it would take a while, but she hoped that this was a good step in the right direction. She smiled and let Callie gather her thoughts. She checked down and saw that they had 30 minutes left. She stayed silent and let Callie do the talking, letting her take control on what they talked about- making her feel like that the therapist isn't a know-it-all.
Callie looked at the clock and saw that they had several more minutes left and prepared herself for the questions she was going to get. But to her surprise, that moment never came. The therapist was sitting exactly like her, watching the clock and eyes wandering around the room, but her gaze still turned towards Callie. Callie was awkward in this silence and said something to break the ice: "Why aren't you talking?" She asked and the therapist gave a small smile.
"Why aren't you talking?" She retorted back playfully, causing Callie to give her a small smile.
"Because I don't know what to talk about."
"Whatever you want. If you want to talk about the weather, we can have a 25 minute conversation about the weather. If you want to talk about a dog you had, we can talk about that. Whatever you want to talk about I'll be happy about it."
Callie looked at her suspiciously and decided to test her. "The weather looks nice outside."
"Yes it does. I love the sun in the sky." She admitted, and Callie rolled her eyes.
"It looks like a good day to go play."
"It sure does." She spoke again, and Callie was getting annoyed. She wanted to talk about something other than the weather because of how boring it was.
The therapist could see Callie draw on the couch, with her fingers, and got an idea. "I'm going to talk now. I notice that you're artsy. Do you like to draw?" She questioned and Callie nodded.
"Yeah. But I'm not the best at it."
She gave a small smile. "You don't have to be. Would you like to draw?" She asked, getting up and making her way towards the table filled with art supplies. The table was a white board so Callie could do whatever she wanted on it.
Callie got up and looked down at the table. "Yeah. But not on that thing." She crossed her arms and looked down. She was not drawing on a white board-table thing.
The therapist gave another small chuckle. "No, silly. On piece and paper with actual color pencils." She went to the small white drawer and gathered some really nice colored pencils and a drawing pad. Callie sat down and then the therapist spoke.
"I know what I ask of you might sound silly, but draw me a picture of what you think you look like. I don't care if it's a stick figure. Just draw what you think you look like. You don't have to show it to me, and you can throw it away if you want, but just try it." She urged softly, taking a chair and guiding it a little behind Callie to see what she was doing.
Callie looked down on the piece of paper and started drawing. She didn't know what, all she knew was that she used a bunch of dark colors and almost dulled all of the colored pencils out. She drew and drew, her hand as elegant as a ballet dancer, and stopped when she was done.
She looked down at it and it was a portrait of a girl who looked exactly like Callie with the brown hair and everything. Only her whole skin was covered in bruises and cuts; her eyes were sad, black, and unemotional. Her hair was covering her slim face, and the background was one filled with a bunch of swirls, the bright red ones contrasting with the pure black background. There was some grey mixed into the swirls, also. It looked like a masterpiece, a work of art.
"I'm done." She called out and then turned her piece of paper over, turning around the see the therapist just stare at her.
"I'm sure your picture is excellent. The session is almost over. I can let you leave a little early or we can play a game. Your choice." Kathryn gave her a decision, letting her know she had control in this situation- something which she assumed Callie was lacking.
Callie looked at the therapist in disbelief. "You'll let me walk out of here? Right now." The therapist nodded and smiled, gesturing a hand towards the door. Callie looked at it and then back at the drawing. She wanted to share it with someone, because she was proud of it, but was afraid that the therapist would ask her all about it.
She made a decision and flipped her picture around, letting her therapist, Kathryn, take a peek.
Kathryn Quinn knew a lot of good artists, but this one was amazing. It was filled with so much passion, so much emotion that it was almost overwhelming. As a therapist, she started dissecting this piece and wanting to ask her questions, but decided against it. She assumed that Callie wouldn't want anyone to ask questions. They could get to that later.
She gave a huge smile, "Wow, Callie. This is amazing." She spoke with absolute honesty. "You're a wonderful artist."
Callie just shrugged, and looked like it was time for their session to end. She wanted to take this picture with her, and keep it but didn't want her family to find out about it.
"It was nice talking to you, Callie. Let's make it for next week. Same day. Same time." She spoke, getting out a card and writing her appointment down. She gave it to Callie and then showed her the back. "Callie, this is my phone number and if you ever need anything, just let me know. If you feel the need to cut, talk to me. I'm not making you, I'm giving you a choice. Have a good day, Callie. I do believe that things will be looking up soon." The therapist waved and then just before Callie left, she eyed her picture and then gave it to the therapist.
"Keep it. You like it so much. Keep it." She admitted, and gave a small smile before she rushed out of there.
The therapist kept it in a folder with her name on it. She knew that Callie didn't want everyone to see, so she saved it for later.
But she made her way to lunch a happy person.
She was making progress with Callie.
Lena picked her up from her appointment and was shocked to see Callie come out with a relieved smile. She buckled her seatbelt and Lean started to drive. "Did Dr. Quinn give you another appointment?" She asked, her eyes still on the road.
"Yup. Same day. Same time." She showed her the card and put it back in her pocket.
Lena wondered what miracle the therapist did, but knew that she would pay a million dollars a session if it gave her that result; seeing Callie look content.
When Callie got home, it was just in time for dinner and Jude greeted her with a big hug. "Callie! We're officially adopted!" He screamed, hugging her. "We finally have a family." He spoke again, tears glistening in his eyes and Callie couldn't help but smile.
"Yeah we do little bud." She shook his hair on the top of his head and then led him to the kitchen table where they ate.
Yeah. She had a family.
Maybe things were going to get better.
"Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving." –Albert Einstein
So... there you go. Did it meet your approval? Was it too slow? Do you want to bash me for not updating in so long? Well, that's fine. Go ahead. I'm really sorry again.
And also if you ever feel the need to self-harm, commit suicide, or you know someone who has been abused, please don't be afraid to reach out for someone or call these numbers:
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800.273.8225
National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1- 800.656.4673
Thanks again!
Lauren!