On the Edge of Wakefulness

Chapter 8

Todd dragged himself away from Satan, pulling himself to his feet, and yelled, "No! Don't touch me! Stay away from me!

Peter laughed, his monstrous black body shaking, insects and worms falling off him with every tremor. "How dare you challenge ME, you worthless shit. I'll do whatever it is I want."

Don't listen to him.

Todd closed his eyes, briefly, hearing the echo of love. Said, "I'm not worthless."

Satan stood, breathing loudly, steam wafting off of him. "Remember Cindy, the cheerleader? Ahh, that was a glorious day for us. Maybe not so worthless..."

Suddenly, debilitating pain hit Todd and he fell to his knees. He moaned, laying a hand across his abdomen, the other holding himself up.

Peter chuckled. "Wasn't she your first? Your training ground?"

Don't listen, Angel.

"Remember kissing her? How she laughed at you? How you held her down when she didn't want you anymore? Can you taste the blood on your lips from where she bit you? Can you hear her cries when you forced yourself into her?"

Todd remembered everything, just as Peter said. The rage, the taste of blood, the effort at getting inside of her, the sickeningly-sweet orgasm. But more than that - he knew what Cindy hadfelt. He knew and raped her anyway. He groaned in pain, tears forced out.

He taught you that, he mixed you up. You have already paid. Don't make yourself pay more.

"And what about Laura? Cheerleader, senior year, high school."

Satan's face came close to Todd, breathing on him, hot and wet on his face. Todd pulled his knees up to his chest, blood rolling down his cheeks, bloody tears from the searing pain wracking his body.

Why am I not being saved? Why am I still here?

"Remember the back of OUR car? Her muffled screams as you held your hand over her mouth? Remember tearing her panties and really giving it to her. Not so worthless… come to think of it."

Todd was fading, dying, becoming a part of the Hell surrounding him. The volcanic rock beneath him softened, dust and ash getting into his mouth, as he felt himself being pulled down. But he grabbed the harder rock in front of him, digging nails into it, holding on for his life, whatever was left of it.

I'm here. You will not die.

A new kind of resolve came over him. He couldn't let Satan win. He had to defeat him with or without her.

In order to better monitor Todd's recovery from his bout with methamphetamine and be available in the event of an emergency, Tim stayed in the Doctor's Lounge. Woke up near dawn, cramped from the small cot and a splitting headache from his earlier temper tantrum at the nurses. Decided to check on his patient.

He couldn't get over Todd orchestrating a drop-off of drugs in the hospital, in his current condition. Had to sneak access to a phone, remember a number. Had to stealthily make a hand-off and stealthily take the stuff in his room. All in the throes of intense illness. All under the close watch of staff. Impressive. A real mark of his strength, intelligence. Determination. But just as determination could work for him, it was also his downfall.

Tim walked down the familiar hallway and glanced into his room.

Todd sat in the corner on the floor, near the window, his head against the wall. His hair was a mess, knees drawn up close to him, arms awkwardly resting in his lap with his hands curled against his chest. Positively worn to nothing. No socks. Same clothes as yesterday. Looked to be dozing.

Tim opened the door and stepped inside. Grabbed a seat and sat nearby for a while. Read his notes. Looked up when he heard a soft moan. Todd leaned over and began to retch into a container next to him. After he was done, there not really being too much to regurgitate, Todd went back to his sitting position and began to rhythmically knock his head against the wall.

Tim got to his level, lightly touched Todd's head which provided just enough distraction to stop the movements.

"It didn't help you, did it? The voices are still there, the memories still coming. I'm so sorry. I wish there was an easier way to get through this."

Todd's eyes filled with tears and he whispered to his healer as he looked into his eyes, "Please make him go away, please make him stop. He just won't stop."

"You have to talk to me about the images you see, the things you feel. The faster you share what happened, the faster it will go away."

Tim gazed at Todd, an eagle shot down in flight, his wings and heart broken, and he vowed to see him through this.

"I can't talk about it..."

"Why can't you tell me what you see?"

"The words stop. They try to get out and then they stop. I can't say them." His face twitched, muscles twitched.

"Maybe we can try painting or writing the words? Hypnosis is a good way to look at the memory the way we've been talking about. You know, the distancing concept."

"I don't know…"

"You've been doing well with your meditation. You're not self-harming as much. You're learning to relax yourself through those anxiety attacks. That's so great. I'm proud of you."

Tim noticed Todd bristle at his last words. "That's not possible. You can't be proud of me. I'm nothing – less than nothing."

"Of course you're someone to be proud of. You're a strong man, Todd Manning. You're in so much pain and yet you've been fighting that desire to hurt yourself. The anxiety you feel is intense and yet I see you're using tools I've given you. And I'll be honest, how you got your supplier here was quite the feat, kiddo. For all that I am proud and can be proud. I'm hopeful."

Todd dropped his head and tears slowly fell down his cheeks. "But you don't know me. My father knew me and he hated me...I can still hear him. Why is he still here?"

Peter.

"Your father… Peter Manning?"

Todd raised his eyes to Tim, slowly, the deep sadness there breaking Tim's heart.

"He hated me."

"Was he a cruel man, Todd?"

A slow nod.

"Well, then it doesn't surprise me that you can only hear his voice. Cruelty is loud and deafening and that's why it draws you in. Kindness, goodness and love, are gentle, so soft that you can't hear them."

"I can't hear them at all - they're not there."

"Oh yes they are. Think of people who love you, think of people you love. Can you remember what that feels like, what it sounds like?"

Todd thought a while, and then said, "Starr laughing …."

"That's right. I bet you remember a lot of things about her loving you and you loving her. Love has a lot of sounds. But sometimes you have to work to hear it."

Todd put his head down, wiping tears roughly with the back of his hand.

"I also imagine that because of the love you know with Starr, you would do anything for her."

He shrugged.

"Well, I am going to ask you to use the same resources you used in getting drugs into your room, to help yourself for the love you feel for Starr. Tell me your secrets. Empower yourself by telling those secrets. That cruel dark voice you hear will weaken. The other voices will be become louder. I promise. You will get better."

Todd closed his eyes, searching inside of himself, wondering whether he would ever have the strength to tell. Drugs were easy… this was an entirely different battle.

Angel, I'm here. Trust him.

Jedediah bid his goodbyes to Kevin at the airport, Kevin chastising him on going home and buckling down on his schoolwork. The kid agreed unhesitatingly that, of course, he would do the right thing... Kevin looked at him and narrowed his eyes. He wanted to follow him home, but Jedediah refused, saying he had already taken Kevin away from his family for too long.

Against his better judgment, he finally relented. "Jed, tell me you're riding straight home and that you will not go chasing after Hannah yourself. That's dangerous territory. Those people didn't want us nosing around and we have to cool it, for our safety, for now." As Kevin spoke, he held Jedediah by the shoulders.

Jed sighed, frustrated, gazing in another direction. "I know. I promise, I'm going straight home."

"Call me tonight. If you don't call, I'll call your parents and spill the beans on where you've been. They won't ever let you out of the house again and you'll become a ward of the court. You don't want that, yeah?"

"I'll call you," he said, "Promise."

Jed stuck his hand out to shake but Kevin pulled him into a tight hug, whispering, "Stay safe, kid."

Breaking the affection, Kevin turned to walk through the metal detector so he could board his plane. Just past the monitor, he turned back to look one last time and he saw that Jedediah had already left.

Jedediah kick-started his motorcycle and slipped on his helmet. He looked at the traffic and slowly merged into it, riding away from the airport. The sign said north, and he took that road.

"Llanview, Pennsylvania, here I come."

Viki arrived at Llanview Psychiatric Hospital with vengeance in her stride having been told about what happened to Todd. She swore to Tim that she would see to it that whoever was responsible for allowing the unauthorized visitor would be reprimanded and disciplined. In the meantime, Todd had been transferred to a new room in order for his old one to be searched to remove any hidden drugs.

He remained deeply depressed, not wanting to do anything other than lie in bed and stare at nothing, think on nothing, be nothing. As various attendants shuffled in and out of his room, he slipped into a quiet place inside of himself, like before. Whispered words. He'd repetitively smooth his hair, trying to imagine affection, wondering if it could happen without pain. Doubting it.

The meth had disappointed him – all he got for his trouble was Tim preaching and an increased sense of isolation and fish-bowl observation. He knew what he had to do to get better, but the words to describe the nightmare were bigger than Everest to him, an impossible climb. He did hear another voice though, a strange loving voice urging him on, promising salvation if he would say the words. Where would the strength come from though? Hours rolled by, it seemed, nothing getting accomplished in that quiet, empty space.

When he stopped drifting, he found himself looking at Viki. He took her hand into his, cradled it flat against his chest.

"Tell me about Starr," he said quietly.

She felt so sad at his asking. It had been months since he had seen her.

"She's fine. She misses you though and asks about you every day. Blair has been wonderful and is always sure to tell Starr about you, to assure her that you're alright and that you love and miss her, too. She doesn't hide you from Starr and doesn't say anything against you."

"Tell me what she's...been wearing, her hair, her shoes..." He opened his eyes, taking a peek at the windows.

Swallowing down her sorrow, Viki painted a picture. "She's taken to wearing her hair in pigtails. Her hair's grown longer and it's the prettiest, silkiest brown hair you've ever seen. She still loves to dress up but she's been quite the tomboy lately and has been coming home after play dates, filthy, shoes full of sand from the playground. She's reading so well in school, her teachers love her. What else..."

Viki could see a trace of a smile at hearing the description of his beautiful Starr. It disappeared though, and then he asked something else, his voice still faint.

"Tell me about...Tea."

Viki swallowed hard. This was the first time he had mentioned her since she left, since she disappeared immediately after the trial. All Viki knew was that Tea had been devastated by something involving Todd prior to his arrest. Tea never told and Viki didn't ask. Whatever forced her to leave must have been serious.

"I don't know anything. She hasn't contacted anybody – or if she has, they haven't mentioned anything to me."

"She left because of what I did to her."

"I'm sure there were many reasons for her leaving."

Todd whispered the truth to his sister. "I hit her. I stole her and I hit her. She won't ever come back."

Viki wanted to ask more, but didn't. Stunned, and yet not.

"Don't think about that now. When you get better, we can deal with that. Together."

"I can't live like this."

"I know it's hard."

"I'm gonna go away."

She wasn't sure what he meant, hoped it wasn't more suicidal ideation. "Please stay with me," she said. "I was there once, something like you, and I can promise that you will get through it, you will get better. There's light at the end of the tunnel."

"Listen, if you try to do what Tim asks, if you reach down into the deepest part of your heart and soul to try to pick yourself up, I'll bring Starr to see you. Even if I have to have Blair shipped away to do it. What do you think, you think you can do that?"

"I don't know…" He seemed to think about it, then said, "No, I don't want Starr to see me...I'm...I'm afraid I'll hurt her, too."

"Of course you wouldn't. You've never laid a hand on her, or hardly said a harsh word to her. Why do you think you would hurt her?"

"Satan told me – said I would do to her all the bad things that were done to me. I think he's right, I think...he's right. Don't let her come...don't… God, please… keep her away from me."

Viki froze. She'd not actually heard this thinking come from Todd before, not in person. It's always disconcerting, frightening even, to be moving along in a relatively normal conversation and be suddenly confronted with the reality of mental illness. She bent and kissed his cool forehead, buying herself time to answer, surprised he'd accepted the affectionate act so peacefully. She couldn't help herself.

"This...Satan… is wrong – that's your own fear talking. You would never hurt Starr. Never!"

"I hit Tea. Punched her out cold. Could do it to Starr."

Viki glanced away a moment, not wanting him to see the shock on her face. When she regained control, she said, "I don't know what happened with Tea – I can't judge that because I wasn't there, but I can say what I know of YOU. And from what I know, your Satan is wrong, sweetheart." Viki leaned down and took a bigger risk of love - she wrapped her arms around him, pressed her face against his and held on. "He's wrong, so wrong..."

He did not feel physically able to stop her, but he no longer wanted to.

Keep me close to the real world, sister, tie me down to the earth below my feet and body. Don't let me fall into Hell or float into nothingness.

She held him for a few moments. Suddenly, he worked himself out of the hug and grabbed Viki's arm, squeezed it hard. He whispered thickly, "I have to tell, don't I?"

"Yes," she said, her voice breaking, "yes, you have to. It's the only way to be free of it."

He loosened his grip, gazing at nothing, gazing into the distance. He nodded his head and whispered, "Yeah, ok, ok...free.

It had been just a few days since the methamphetamine incident and Todd had improved somewhat. Viki shared Todd's asking if he had to tell his secrets – Tim was elated. The statement was a pivotal opening so Tim doubled his efforts at getting Todd to communicate.

Firstly, he gave Todd a journal. His right hand was still pretty unusable, but Todd was able to pen with his left hand surprisingly well. The main focus for him was Starr – wrote her name, often surrounded by words like "protect", "shield", "cover", "inside", "safe" and "beautiful", among others. He drew pictures of a faceless, featureless shadow, portraying it always alone and never associating words with it. It usually showed up after time spent on the Starr reflections.

Tim couldn't get Todd to explain what he was drawing. He'd simply bury himself in the perfection of presentation, expanding the shadow, fading out the edges with the eraser – he'd recite the worst things Satan said about him, recite them with the seriousness of Scripture. He'd lose himself there, withdrawing, humming in that way of his, believing Satan.

Secondly, Tim encouraged Todd's relationship with Viki. She visited every day. Sometimes he spoke to her, other times he merely listened. They would either sit in his room or in the consultation room. He never rejected her visits, or her attention.

This morning, though, was a different story – Todd had slipped into a severe depression following a night of physically intrusive nightmares. It had been quite an effort to get him to do anything other than lie in bed. Martin, one of the orderlies on duty, said he was disconnected from his surroundings, "spacey".

Something was going on.

Tim arrived near eleven in the morning and walked into the consultation room to check on Todd. His heart sank at seeing his patient sitting on the floor in a corner, barefoot, wearing nothing but pajama bottoms and a tee-shirt, staring vacantly out the window at the cool sun shining through.

Approaching him carefully, Tim kneeled down and said, "Hey kiddo, what's up? How are you?"

Todd sat quietly, not answering until Tim gently touched his shoulder. He then slowly turned and looked at Tim, a perplexed expression on his face.

"I keep being pulled into a dream, I think. Things feel ... funny … around me." He spoke lazily, softly.

"Might be your new medication."

"No, it's Satan – keeps talking to me, distracting me away from here. I can hear him – he's so noisy. I feel him… in my veins, in my head. Hurts."

Tim briefly glanced downward, disappointed at what looked like a return to a more deluded state. One step forward, two back. "Todd, is Satan the same as your father, Peter? Does he look like him, sound like him?"

Todd looked at Tim with sudden fear in his eyes, his voice increasing in strength and anxiousness.

"Don't make me talk about him, don't make me!"

Todd drew in his knees close to his chest and put his hands over his ears, shaking his head wildly, begging Tim, "No, no, no…"

You have to tell, you have to tell.

"No, I don't want to tell!"

You have to, my love. It's time. Trust the healer.

Todd began rocking slightly, humming again. The blinking of his eyes gave away the fact that his self-soothing wasn't working very well.

Is this place real? The floor beneath me, the windows, the people? Is anything real?

He had definitely deteriorated once again. "Ok, ok... we don't have to talk about it. It's ok." Todd calmed after a moment and Tim moved to the wall to sit next to Todd in a similar position - knees drawn up, arms holding his knees, more casual, though, more relaxed than his patient.

"Someone called asking about you."

Who could possibly care about me? Who could possibly want to know if I'm dead or alive? Which one am I? Dead … or alive?

Todd closed his eyes momentarily and then looked at Tim, a quizzical expression on his face.

You need to tell.

"Kevin Buchanan. He was very concerned about you and wanted to make sure you were alright, that you were getting better."

Tim knew that Todd had spoken to Kevin right before the suicide attempt, an indicator of a close but complicated relationship. The mere mention of the name sent Todd into a fit of uncontrollable shivering, but he continued to look at Tim, questioningly. The reaction was curious, calling for more pushing on the issue.

"Do you remember talking to him before ... before you cut yourself?"

The stare didn't let up. Worry pinched the corners of eyes. The shivering intensified and Todd leaned back against the wall. Closed his eyes. "Kevin, Kevvie - yeah, yeah, I remember ..."

It is alright to tell, Angel.

"Did you call Kevin?"

"On the phone, asking him ... asking ... ohhhh... Kevin, I'm sorry ... about the Penthouse ... Michelle … paperwork on my desk …"

So he did remember. He sounded far away and Tim could tell he was spitting out images he was seeing. Tim figured a flashback was coming on.

"Water, cutting . . . find me . . . find me."

Tell.

"Todd, remember you're in the consultation room and that I'm right next to you."

He looked at his arms, his faced becoming lined with a kind of horror, "Ohhh ... I'm so sorry … God help me, it's the only way." His body weakened and he rolled his head against the wall. "Shouldn't have saved me, should have waited … I have to finish … I have to show him."

"Why shouldn't Kevin have saved you?"

Todd started to cry, shaking his head, "I'm not save-able. I'm nothing."

"Why aren't you save-able?"

Clenching his jaws, Todd spat out angry words, "Because, Daddy tells me I'm shit, that I'm not worth anything ... that I'm nothing ... that I'm not even any good for the one thing ..." Todd began to get antsy, shifting positions. "One thing, one thing…"

Things changed quickly. He suddenly started pulling at his clothes to cover himself, pushing up against the wall, trying to protect himself. His hands shot out in front of him to stop an attacker as he slid onto his back on the floor, writhing in absolute terror.

"Whoa!" Tim jumped back, watching, waiting for the moment Todd would need more invasive help.

"Nooo! Please, no! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to bring her here! Sorry, sorry…so sorry…no, please, no…send her home, please…"

"Todd, it's only a memory! Look at me! You're in the hospital, you're in Llanview!"

Nothing was working. He twisted his body onto his stomach, trying to crawl from Tim, gasping, trying to scream, but not being able to. He kept turning his head as if someone was standing behind him, threatening him, advancing toward him. His eyes were wide open, his bare feet rubbing against the carpet.

"Oh God ... oh God … no, no, no, no, no…" His voice was ragged and his breathing was hard and fast, the depth of the panic almost awe-inspiring.

Tim knew no talking to his patient would get him to come out of this physical memory, so he called out, "Martin! Sedative - NOW!" The orderly ran out and Tim kept his eyes on Todd, there not being much he could do at this point. He offered a few words, knowing they weren't getting through, but hoping the mere sound of his voice would offer something.

"Come on, kiddo, come on. Separate yourself…come on…you're completely safe..." He shook his head, looking up for the nurse.

"Help me ... help me ... please, stop, please … oh god, oh god … I'm sorry!" He dug his fingernails into the carpet, his forehead down, and then picked up the scrambling, but it appeared unseen hands had a hold of him. He turned his head one last time, his expression one of intense apology, his lips mouthing a soundless, "I'm sorry."

"I'm right here, I'm right here… it's just a memory, kiddo… just your memory."

Todd kept inching away, struggling on the floor, his face showing the nightmare he was in. It was so real, it tore Tim up. Everyone jumped when he suddenly screamed loudly and painfully. Then, he stopped his moving, stopped his breathing, and reached in front of him, his lips parted in a kind of shock, keeping the one hand outstretched, a chance at being saved, a last grasp at safety.

Tell him, now.

And then three words came out of his mouth, spoken with the breath being forced out of him by an invisible assault. Words that would change the course he was on, that would pluck him out of that raging river he'd thrown himself into.

"He's ... raping ... me ..."

Oh yes, Angel, oh yes!

A breathy, strangled moan escaped and then Todd slammed his head hard against the floor, several times, trying to stop the horrific memory engulfing him. Tim immediately grabbed him by his upper body, turned him around, and brought him into his arms to restrain him, to protect him. Tim held his patient, tight, tight, tight.

"It's okay, Todd, you're safe now, I got you, I got you…"

The orderly moved in close to Tim and his patient, and held Todd's legs to prevent him from further thrashing. Todd appeared to be in a seizure, saliva falling from his mouth, his eyes rolling back, his body convulsing, struggling to breathe. Tim knew he wasn't seizing, however. Rather, this was major trauma Todd was reliving – someone had brutally raped him, the violence of the act...beyond obvious.

Tim spoke firmly and assuredly, hoping against hope that his patient would hear him, "You're not there, Todd, you're in the hospital. No one's hurting you now. We're here to help you, protect you…"

The nurse got right next to Todd, lowered his pajama bottoms and injected him into the thick muscle of his thigh.

Despite Tim's words, the meds not quite kicking in yet, Todd continued to seize in terror with wordless, suffocated sounds coming from him, his face twitching, his body whipping violently against the hold of his protectors. His hands tightened into fists, even his unusable right hand, still bound by thick bandaging. And it all broke Tim's heart, making him curse the person who'd done this to a fourteen year old boy, "God damn bastard..."

Finally, Todd started to calm, the seizing growing slower and less injurious. His legs slowly stopped kicking against the orderly. He soon lay without moving, his eyes closed, moaning in an unnatural lethargy urged on by the sedative. He was soaking wet with sweat, his face lined with tears. Tim relaxed but did not let go of his tortured patient.

"Ah, kid," he murmured, "I'm so sorry. I am so sorry that happened to you." He continued to hold Todd in his strong arms, caring for him, rocking him, hoping that maybe this revelation would lead him back to reality. When he looked up, he saw Viki.

She stood in the doorway, tears rolling down her face at the sight of the large man rocking her brother. She took cautious steps toward them, and when the doctor saw her, he said, "I know what happened to him. He trusted us enough to say the words. He was very brave… very strong to do it."

"Oh Tim." Viki knelt down to Todd and held his hand. "I'm here, sweetheart, I'm here. You're safe now."

Todd continued to moan quietly, unable to move or open his eyes. The orderly brought a blanket to prevent shock. The four sat there, waiting, hoping, praying, as the sunlight poured into the room, brightening a dark scene, offering hope where there had been none before. Tim did not let go of his patient.

Todd once again dragged himself to his feet, the pain subsiding as he faced Satan.

"You bastard! You know what you did! You made me rape those girls! YOU did! And I hate you for that!"

Satan stood and merely growled, Peter's voice dragging, "You sorry little fuck. You hate ME? YOU HATE ME? Not as much as I hated you. You took my life from me. You shamed me by being so stupid with that whore, Marty. You humiliated me by landing in prison."

"Those things happened later! What had I done to deserve torture and rape at fourteen?! I was a kid! You tore me apart!"

Todd felt stronger than before, the pain lessening. Satan seemed smaller, and was beginning to look more and more like the old Peter Manning.

But not entirely, not yet.

Satan approached Todd, who backed up but stayed on his feet. He had to stop at the edge of the island, there being no place else to go. Satan grabbed his hair and looked closely at his face. Todd could feel the desperation in Peter's voice as he spoke to him.

"I'm not really the one at fault here. Where was your mother when I raped you all those times before, huh? Where was that bitch when you really needed her? When you were really… just a kid. She didn't care about you or love you. She knew what I was doing… and she never helped you. You didn't rape because of ME, you raped women because each one was YOUR MOTHER."

A horrific shock of pain slammed through Todd's body at Peter's cruel last-ditch effort to win. What other rapes? His mother knew? He couldn't breathe in Satan's death hold. Images of his mother leaving him, telling him he had to go back to his father, pounded down on him. He saw her face and felt her arms around him in the warmest of hugs. He remembered her note left behind. He could feel the bitter tears, the ache in his heart he felt, that he still felt.

She knew and yet she sent him back?

Blood ran down his face, down his body, dripping off his hands and feet, pooling beneath him. Satan was draining him, squeezing the life out of him.

Peter Manning's laugh ripped across the vastness of Hell. His words hit Todd hard because it brought out something he never wanted to acknowledge: his mother sent him back to be further tortured by Peter Manning when he was a child, even after he begged and cried and despaired. She knew what Satan was doing to him. The rejection alone had bad enough… but now… Satan said she KNEW.

"NOW, what challenges do you have for me? Do you dare say I cannot do as I please? Give yourself to me. Give yourself over to me!"

Todd grit his teeth as he looked deeply into Peter Manning's cursed black eyes.

"FUCK YOU."

Satan exploded with a fury that was not human and which Todd could not physically overpower. Todd closed his eyes, expecting to feel the terrible pain. Instead, he floated above the gruesome scene, his soul being caressed by someone's silky touch. She whispered in his ear and assured him that the horror below him wasn't real anymore and that the love he had known at one time or another was. He watched in an odd state of calm as he saw the young fourteen year-old child be violently attacked.

Tears rolled down Todd's face as he watched it happen. "I . . . I . . . I don't think he's gonna survive that."

"He'll survive. He will find that he has so much to live for. He will find he has so much to give." Her voice was soft and soothing, like honey in his ear.

"Who are you?"

"I am Love, Salvation and Hope. I am everything you ever wished for. I am your heart and I am your soul. I am light."

"That boy, does he know you're here?"

"Not yet. But he will."

Hours later, Todd lay in his bed, the room dark except for a small light, just enough. Viki had wanted to be there when he woke up, but Tim couldn't anticipate what his condition would be so he asked her to go home. Reluctantly, she finally did. Todd's eyes fluttered open and he carefully sat up, finding Tim sitting next to him on the wing-back chair, with some papers in his lap. He rubbed his head, a headache bothering him. He found it hard to talk, like he had a sore throat or something. His whole body ached.

"I don't feel good."

"I know. It's normal." Tim wasn't surprised to see Todd in such discomfort. He'd essentially just been violently raped.

Todd shrugged his shoulders, his face taking on a look of disgust, a bit of a whimper in his voice. "I feel dirty and sticky. I...I want a bath or a shower. Can I do that?" His voice dropped to whisper. "I'm very sore ..." He did notice it was quieter in his mind, only a dull thumping voice for now.

"Of course."

He wrapped his arms around himself in a hug of a sort, running his hands up and down as if it were cold. He closed his eyes, his voice still soft. "Can I ... have something ... I hurt ... all over ..."

"Yeah, definitely, let me tell the nurse." Tim hopped up and buzzed the intercom. He spoke softly. He returned to the chair next to Todd's bed. "You remember what happened today?"

He lifted his eyes only and looked cautiously at Tim, afraid. Words escaped today from his disobedient mouth, words that could kill him, that nearly killed him. Perhaps now the doctor would think him a freak, a sick monster that asked for that special torture created just for him.

Tim sensed Todd's… shame. No unusual for rape victims. "I want you to know that you can trust me with anything you say. I don't tell anyone, and I don't think that anything you say is wrong or weird or bad. I respect you. You are safe with me, your words are safe. No matter what you say."

Todd huffed, his face a mask of despair, that same shame. He pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his knees. He began to rock, comforting himself like a child stuck at age fourteen, broken. Clenching his teeth, an undertone of fury in his voice, he said, "He ruined me, he hurt me." His head dropped forward onto his knees and his eyes were closed. Whispered, "He raped me ..."

"Yes, a horrific experience."

Todd stopped rocking and looked at Tim, darkly, his voice raspy. "But I did that, too. I did that to ... Marty ... and some others." Tim knew the complication that affected his patient in dealing with this. After all, he himself had raped at least two young women. The harder he condemned the perpetrator for his crime against HIM, the harder he condemned himself.

"You did. But what happened to you is most likely a contributing factor to your committing those crimes. Had whoever done that to you, not done it, you most likely wouldn't have raped. It doesn't take away your responsibility for what you did, but it explains to us why you may have raped those women."

Todd spoke heavily, his voice riddled with revulsion. "No, no. I must have liked what happened to me. Otherwise, why would I have done it to someone else? Why would I do something like that?"

"You did not like what happened to you. When I saw you today, you were not enjoying yourself. Why you would cause the same kind of pain to others is very complicated. I can try to explain it to you."

Todd crinkled up his face and shut his eyes.

Go away. I'm condemned - I told and he's going to kill me.

He started rocking again, moaning softly, and tucking his chin into his chest. Making himself small.

Tim leaned forward. "It's okay, Todd. You don't have to talk about it now – only as much as you want to."

"Yeah, yeah, I don't want to talk about it, don't make me talk about it."

"I'm not making you do anything you don't want to."

He whispered, "He'll kill me. He's probably going to kill me for what's already said."

"Who?"

Exasperated suddenly, Todd shouted, "My father! Don't you know anything? He told me not to tell and I told! Oh God, I told, I told ..."

"Your father's dead. He can't hurt you anymore."

Todd glared at Tim, spat, "He's alive. He's Satan and he lives inside of me. Now in my book, that's not DEAD, is it?!"

"I guess it's a kind of life, yeah."

"Yeah, I'm right, I'm right ..."

"It was your father, then, who raped you."

"Oh God ... oh God ... I asked for it ... I was bad and asked for it. My father knows everything ...all my dirty secrets. He hears everything. Punished me then, punishes me now." Todd was rocking himself again, trying to assuage the fear that had cropped up. Tim crossed his legs, leaning back in the chair, contemplating the enormity of Todd's admission, a terrible truth behind it. Todd's extreme illness told Tim that this rape… was only part of a very long, dark story.

"You think I'm punished enough, Doc?" Todd had interrupted his self-soothing to ask the question.

"Your father hurt you very badly. He had no right to do that to you. You did not in any way ask for that. NOT IN ANY MANNER. You were a child, a fourteen year-old child. No child asks for that."

"But I did! I was with Michelle, we were ... we ..." Only a hard breath came out of his mouth. He rubbed his face, groaning into his hands, "She's dead because of me."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because if she hadn't been with me on that day, she wouldn't have killed herself."

"Don't take responsibility for that. You can take it for the crimes you committed but not for her death. It was ruled a suicide. If that's the case, then it was her own decision."

Todd couldn't understand, couldn't grasp this. It was always his fault. Everything was his fault. He asked for bad things to happen to him and he made bad things happen. Georgie died because he did not get to the lodge soon enough. He didn't recognize her from before. He could have helped her. Todd was the one who made his father hurt him, over and over. He was the one who chased his mother out. He made Tea go away.

Everything - was - his - fault.

Todd closed his eyes tightly and slid back into the bed, covering himself and pulling himself into a ball, protecting himself. Protecting himself from any further attacks, protecting the world from further damage he'd cause.

"You did ok, Todd. I'm proud of you." Tim left him to sleep and comfort his broken heart.

To Be Continued . . .