I took the pamphlet back to my room. Lying in bed, I stared at the ceiling, thinking about that week and mentally asking my brain to tell me something, to shed some light on the darkness that had taken over.
Had something so terrible happened to me that I was forcing it from my memory?
I laid down on the couch in Dr. Lawson’s office with my hands crossed over my stomach. She was the psychiatrist that Janet had referred me to for the Hypnotherapy. My body was relaxed, but I couldn’t stop the nervous twitch in my foot as I waited for her to begin. The Sound Mate machine played softly in the background, muting the outside noise. I counted the seconds as they ticked on the clock.
“Take a deep breath for me, Braelynn,” Dr. Lawson spoke softly. I tried to stay calm and clear my mind. “Regardless of what happens, you have to remember you’re in a safe place.” I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, only focusing on the sound of her voice.
“Braelynn, I need you to focus on my voice and try to relax. Feel your palms resting on your stomach, your breath moving slowly in and out of your lungs.” My heart became a steady beat, my eyelids grew heavy, and my body transformed to a tranquil state.
“You’re in a safe place, Braelynn, but there is a part in your brain that is blocking some time from your life.” Dr. Lawson’s warm, gentle voice washed over me in soothing waves. “Tell me, what was the last thing you were doing before everything fades?”
The vision of that night became clear in my head. “I was walking home when my phoned beeped in my purse. Peyton sent me a text message.”
“Very good. Continue.”
“There’s a sharp pain that makes it impossible to hear. I fall to my knees before I drop to the ground, then I roll over, and I’m looking up at the light post.”
“Good, Braelynn.” Her voice held the same monotone it had since we started. “Do you remember what happens next?”
Pain. My shoulders shrug forward as if to block something painful.
“It’s okay, Braelynn. You’re in a safe place, remember, No one can hurt you here. It is just the two of us in the room.”
“My body … is weak and I can’t move. Someone puts me in a car.” My body began to shake. “It’s a long drive, and I’m lying on the back seat.”
“Do you know the driver?”
“I can’t see who it is.” I hear my voice cracking.
“Focus on your breathing, Braelynn. Deep breath in, long breath out. What’s happening?”
“I’m in a lot of pain. The pain is more than I can bear. My head throbs, my skin burns, and as much as I tug my hands towards my body, I can’t escape the bindings. I’m not in the car any longer, and I’m lying on something soft, but my arms are restrained away from my body. I yearn to move. I feel the ropes wrapped around my wrists.”
“You’re safe, Braelynn. You’re doing great.”
“The darkened room makes it hard to see. My head is heavy when I turn it towards my arm. I stare at what seems like a rubber band tied on the upper part of my arm. I think it’s blocking my blood from flowing. I try to move my hand, but I can’t. My fingers are numb, and I’m unable to close my fists. There is a syringe, which he jabs in my arm. The cloudy liquid passes through the syringe and enters my bloodstream. Then the world goes dark.
“There are warms lips on my body, and then he trails them over my stomach. A mask covers his face so I can’t see him, can’t identify him. He forces my legs apart, and I feel the cold dripping of jelly fall on my core. He tears through me, and the pain is blinding. His calloused hands cover my body while his facial hair pricks my skin. Trying to pull my arms in is pointless because it only causes me to lose the last bit of strength I have left. His hand tightens against the gag in my mouth so I can’t scream. He inserts the needle in my arm again, and my struggles to break free are useless as my body goes limp.”
My body is shaking. Hot tears wet my cheeks and run down my face. My hands form tight fists as I pull at my wrists. The smell of his breath lingers in my nose.
“Braelynn, I think it’s best if we wake you up. I’m going to count down from five, and you will wake up. Five … four … three … two … one.”
My eyes peeled open and reality began to set in. That week that was missing from my mind—it was the only way my brain could protect me from the truth. From the horrible knowledge that I was drugged and raped.
And then left on my steps to die.
Physically I felt exhausted, even though I’d slept more in the past few weeks than I could remember. I didn’t partake in any of the physical activities. I went to therapy, followed it with group therapy, after lunch I took a nap, then after dinner I went to my room. I was physically drained, my body recuperating from the hell I had put it through. I lay in bed for hours curled up with a pillow. My body was drained.
Mentally, I replayed the last six months on repeat every second that I was awake. I caught myself thinking about each person I’d slept with during those four months. The ones I remembered at least. There were four, including Peyton, Bruce, Vinnie, and someone whose name I couldn’t remember. I became disgusted with who I was. I had used sex as an outlet, and all the while I had been a victim of rape. Even though my time with Peyton had been different from the others, it still stung deep. Dr. Lawson repeated that my mind had shut down so as not to cause me any pain. What she forgot to mention was how bad it would hurt after I discovered the truth.
I needed help. Professional help other than the counseling I was getting here. My counselor had moved my file permanently over to Dr. Lawson. She stated I was battling a lot more than a drug addiction, and I needed the help of a psychiatrist. When my brain shut out that week, it also shut out my ability to think clearly.
Emotionally, I was wrecked. Dr. Lawson and I worked through a lot of my anger and devastation; she managed to combine the twelve steps to sobriety and seven steps of grief into “The Braelynn Steps.” My rehab time was only supposed to be sixty days, but I wasn’t ready to leave. Even if I had to take out more loans to pay for it, I would. I needed more time. I was pissed at the world, angry with life, and most mornings I found myself crying aimlessly, pouring out my soul on the soaked pillowcases. After breakfast, my anxiety would go through the roof, followed by stress, anger, and then guilt.
My nights took the most out of me. They would start with a dream—one I enjoyed—of Peyton. We would be together, laughing, and then it would happen. The flash of light, the loss of vision, my wrists bound, and the syringe stabbing my vein. I felt him in my sleep, tearing through me, choking me with a cloth covering my mouth. I woke up screaming, crying, wanting to run and hide. Wanting more drugs.
After my first thirty days I was given telephone privileges on Sundays, but I’d declined for the past three weeks. I didn’t want to talk anyone, including Loren, and I even sent a request for her not to attend family meetings. I wasn’t ready.
When the panic attacks still wouldn’t stop, I marched straight into the admissions office and extended my stay. I needed an additional sixty days—perhaps more.
The leaves on the trees changed colors and died, the snow covered the ground and melted away. The days passed, and the holiday seasons came and left, but I stayed in rehab. I wasn’t ready to go back out to the real world. A world where my attacker ran free.
Braelynn
The following sixty days breezed by until I had but one day of rehab left. The New Year was upon us, and I had one last session with Dr. Lawson before I was let out to the real world. For the past four months I had avoided contact with the outside world except to write letters to Loren, Kennedy, and Gus explaining why I had extended my stay. Every time I sat to write Peyton a letter I couldn’t find the courage to drag the pen across the paper.
Every day was a battle, a struggle, but once the hurt had passed, I began to find myself again, laughing at jokes, making friends, and even sleeping through the night without the help of medication.
Dr. Lawson suggested that having Loren come in for my fi
nal session would be helpful. She knew I’d extended my stay and that I still didn’t feel one hundred percent, but she didn’t know the extent of what had happened to me. The doctor explained it was part of the healing process, letting loved ones back into your life. My only request when she suggested that Loren should come was that she be the one to tell Loren what we had discovered. I knew the words would be trapped in me, unable to come out if I had to sit across from her and tell her. Loren was my life, and I knew that I was her whole world. Telling her that I had been captured, raped and drugged would destroy her.
I sat on the long couch, waiting for Loren to enter. I had the box of tissues next to me ready for the impending waterworks. I inhaled deeply as I looked at the clock on the wall. It was now or never. A soft knock on the door startled me. I wasn’t sure if I was more scared of seeing my sister for the first time, or of her finding out about what happened. The door pushed open slightly, and her head peeked in before she opened it wider.
“Loren, hi. Please come in.” My therapist waved for her to enter. I jumped from the couch, sprinting to my sister, my arms wrapped around her as I buried my head in her shoulder.
Her arms pulled me tighter, prolonging our embrace. She released me slowly, her hands resting on my shoulders. “Let me look at you.”
Tears fell down my cheek. “I’ve missed you, Lo.”
She pulled me in for another hug. “I’ve missed you too. I’m so proud of you. So, so, so, proud. I love you so much.”
I let go of Loren, but my hand was glued to hers as we both sat on the couch. Dr. Lawson smiled as she looked at us. “Loren, I’ve heard so much about you. Thank you for joining us on Braelynn’s last therapy session.”
Loren smiled at me before she looked at Dr. Lawson. “Thank you for having me, and for helping my little sister.”
I held my sister’s hands, and tears grew in the corners of my eyes. I inhaled deeply, drawing needed oxygen into my lungs before I spoke. “Loren, I want you to know what has happened while I was here. There are things I want you to know.” My voice cracked.
“Loren,” Dr. Lawson began when my eyes focused on her, pleading with her to help me with this, “Braelynn has given me permission to discuss our sessions with you. I had suggested she tell you herself, but she has requested I inform you instead.”
“Brae?” Loren studied me with a concerned expression. “Is everything okay?”
“When I first got here … no. Nothing seemed normal. I was two weeks clean, but my world was all dismantled. Dr. Lawson suggested hypnotherapy since I couldn’t remember the week I was gone.”
“Loren, through our hypnotherapy session Braelynn discovered that, during the week she was missing, she was abducted and raped.” Dr. Lawson’s voice was her characteristic monotone, her eyes glued to mine as she waited for Loren’s reaction.
“What? No!” Loren’s gaze darted between the therapist and me. “Braelynn, is this true?” She tugged on my hand when I couldn’t meet her blue hazed eyes.
Locating the courage deep within me, I regarded my sister. My words were lodged deep inside, but I knew she needed to hear this from me. I bowed my head again and spoke softly. “I remembered everything. His breath on me, his hands on my skin. It was awful.”
“Oh Braelynn,” Loren cried, sobs escaping her chest as she wrapped her arms around me. “I’m so sorry.”
“Lo, please don’t cry.” I sobbed with her. “I’m better now.” She pulled away and looked into my eyes for answers.
“How could you be, after everything?” she asked, pushing my hair behind my ears, her nose and cheeks bright red.
“Lo, I don’t want to be a victim anymore. I don’t want to keep living my life scared and running. Doctor Lawson and I have worked hard at this. I’m clean. I don’t crave the need to feel numb anymore, and even though I’m scared shitless to go back home, I know I’m ready.”
“Are you sure? You can stay with me in Newport for a while.” She wiped her tears.
“Yeah, I’m sure. I’m ready to go home. My home, Lo. Dr. Lawson has recommended a therapist in the city, and I need to get back to living.”
Loren nodded before she hugged me tightly, holding me in her arms. Dr. Lawson explained to Loren how my stay here was and which course of action she thought would be best for me. She also explained the reasons she believed my brain shut out that week of my life. Loren and I cried some more, but towards the end of the session we were both smiling, happy to be with each other.
After, I showed Loren around the facility, introduced her to the friends I’d made, and brought her to my room where she helped me pack. Throughout the tour her arm was glued to mine, almost as if she was scared something would happen to me. A feeling of comfort washed over me. After all these years, Loren’s main concern was my well-being.
“Can you check that drawer for me one last time?” I asked as I stuffed my clothes into my suitcase.
Loren hopped of the bed and began opening each drawer, looking for any belonging I may have left behind. She shut the last drawer when she was done. “Nope, all clear.”
“I can’t believe this is it.” I zipped the suitcase shut.
“This is a nice facility,” she said, looking out my bedroom window that overlooked the pond. “Peyton did a good job.”
The sound of his name made my heart clench. It had been months since I’d seen him last. I had focused solely on me while I was here, but I hadn’t forgotten him. The love I had for him could not be erased from my soul.
I stood quietly, unable to speak. The last time I saw him was when he’d taken me in his arms and bathed me. It was the most loving moment in my life, and one of the saddest. He had tucked me into bed that night, but I had asked him to give me time to heal. It was the last time his lips grazed my forehead. Peyton had funded my stay here, and I had a feeling he and Loren had talked since then.
“Sorry,” Loren apologized when she noticed me playing with my fingers.
“It’s okay, really.” I shook my head. “I’m starving. Should we get lunch?”
“Yeah, that’s sound great.”
I slid my chair out and shoved my tray across from Loren’s on the table. For cafeteria food it was amazing, and I sure as hell wasn’t complaining since it was all that was available to me. Loren picked at her salad as I devoured my bacon cheeseburger. She told me about school and work, but I wanted to know about Peyton. I needed to know if she knew anything at all about him.
“Have you heard from him? Recently, I mean,” I mumbled quickly before I stuffed my face with fries.
“Who?”
“Peyton,” I said as I dipped my fries in ketchup.
“Oh.” She paused. “Um ... yes. Once Kennedy informed me that you were coming here, I called to thank him.”
“Hmm.” I kept my gaze focused on my fries.
“He called a couple of times, asking how you were doing here. They called me with a weekly report, and I had him help me with a few finances.”
That caught my attention. I swallowed the food in my mouth and stared at her. “Lo, he was already paying my rent. He paid for my rehab, and now you asked to borrow money? I’m never going to able to face him or pay him back.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Then how is it?” I pushed my tray forward and crossed my arms.
“I went to him for advice. The money Mom and Dad left you has been in an interest bearing account since you were eight. You refused to touch it, but I had him look at it. You haven’t been working, and your student loans have started coming in. I didn’t want you to leave rehab with the added stress of debt. He had his financial advisor look at it and as of last quarter they quadrupled that money.”
My mouth dropped wide open at her statement. “Quadrupled?”
“Yep.” She grinned and stuck her tongue out at me. “In a few days a percentage will be transferred to your checking account, a percentage will be reinvested, and the rest will go into your savings account.”
“A
nd my student loans?”
“From what Peyton said, you should be debt-free in only a few quarters.”
I was dumbfounded. He hadn’t heard a word from me—not even a simple thank you—yet he still found ways to help me where I needed most.
It was my first weekend home since rehab. I’d been home two days and had yet to step outside. I was petrified. My attacker was still out there. My world had changed the moment I found out what really happened to me.
Loren was the only one who knew my whole story. Kennedy and Gus knew that I was raped and drugged, but I wasn’t ready to go into detail yet. It was a healing process, and I knew from therapy that I couldn’t let this fear consume me or let it change who I was.
The only thing I had done since coming home was dye my hair back to its natural color. The dark cheap dye had faded in the past months, and my roots had grown out tremendously. Kennedy was busy with work, taking a couple of extra weekend shifts so she could have enough time off for her wedding, and Gus became a permanent resident in my room. He had been here since the day I arrived and, according to him, had no intention of leaving my side.
He lay on my bed with the TV remote in his hand as he flicked through channels. I was glued next to him, catching up on some light reading. It wasn’t until I hit the end of my book that I realized I needed to get some fresh air. The sun was shining though it was freezing outside, and I couldn’t stay inside much longer.
I plugged my Kindle back into the charger and walked over to stand in front of the television.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, a pleasant smile occupying his face.
“I need to get some air. Do you want to go for a walk?” I didn’t just need air. Once my mind was made up that I wanted to step out into the real world, the list of things I needed to do snowballed.
“Sure, you want to go to the park?”
“Actually, I have a different idea.” My eyebrows shot up, and a big, full smile spread across my face. I needed to find my way to live again.
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