She followed me, and soon we were swinging together in tandem.
After a few minutes, she slowed down. I did also until my feet dragged again.
“I overreacted. I should have never accused you of that.” She finally stopped moving but kept her arms at her sides instead of holding the chains like me.
“I tried killing myself once. No matter how bad it gets, I won’t do it again. I promised my dad I wouldn’t.” The idea of Dad crying because of my carelessness was enough to stop me from harming myself.
“Good. But you need to do more.”
“More? How? You’d better not say therapy, because your mom—”
Tris curled her hand around mine. Her hand was freezing, and there was a slight tremble to it. That stopped me from pushing her away.
“Mom has a special birthday request for you. I wanted to talk to you about it before she asks you tonight so you’re not blindsided.” She flexed her fingers around mine. “You know how she goes to the rape support group at the family crisis center on Sunday nights? She’s going tonight like usual. I’m going with her. The one gift she wants from you for her birthday is for you to come tonight.”
“Why is it so important to her that I go? Listening to other people talk about their assaults isn’t going to help me.” Hell would freeze over before I told a room full of strangers my story.
“The first time Mom was assaulted was on her tenth birthday. The last time it happened was on her twelfth. A few days after her twelfth birthday, she told her parents.” Tris blinked and rubbed her eyes. “For the last fifteen years, every Sunday night of her birthday week, she has gone to the support group and told her story instead of listening to others. Dad used to go, but when I was old enough, I started going to support her.” She squeezed my hand. “She wants you to be there for her.”
Aunt Eloise knocked loud enough on the window over the sink that the sound carried over. She waved at us, the signal to come in for dinner. Jo joined her and waved at us also. Tris let go of my hand and waved back.
She stood and stretched. I remained in the swing, sniffing as my nose tingled from the cool air. Tris had backed me in a corner. It was up to me to decide how to get out of it. I hated this position because whichever way I chose, I would still feel the same—perhaps even worse.
“Do it for my mom. Please.” Her plea made my nose tickle harder and my eyes water.
“Fine, I’ll go, but I’m sitting in the back and not speaking.” I knocked Tris aside as she touched my arm, marching into the house with my hood still over my head as my own personal armor.
I WENT to the meeting as is, meaning I didn’t change my clothes or remove my hoodie. I continued to wear it over my head, not caring if I looked like a thug or a homeless person who only came to the meeting for the hot drinks and cookies.
The room was on the second floor and big enough to hold a hundred people. There was a quarter of that, or so it seemed, but I didn’t count. There wasn’t a sign-up sheet at the door taking names or emails. A woman by the name of Gita greeted Aunt Eloise, Tris, and me at the door. She was the head of the group and worked at the local hospital in human resources. She was older than my aunt and had a kind face and a welcoming smile. She and Aunt Eloise hugged one another and then moved off to the side, whispering. All around me people talked to one another in hushed whispers. The majority were women, but a few were men.
“What do you think so far?” Tris asked in a soft voice.
“I don’t have much of an opinion yet.” I slid my hands into my hoodie’s pockets, the fabric warming my cold hands. “Men come to this thing?”
She nodded. “With their significant others. Some of the men are victims also. The support group welcomes all, regardless of gender.”
I had automatically assumed only women would come to a rape support group. It must be as bad, if not worse for men to be raped, and to talk about it to other people. But even though most of the group here was female, there were a few men.
Two men in their twenties were loitering near the refreshment table. They were as different as black and white. One was dressed preppy and professional, while the other was in a T-shirt, jeans, and a leather jacket. One was blond and pale, the other with black hair and darker, tanned with gorgeous brown eyes. Both were attractive, but remote, giving off a “leave me alone” vibe. Leather Jacket said something to Preppy, who curled a hand around his friend’s shoulder. Leather Jacket clutched his friend’s hand. They stared at one another with such love that I could taste it from where I stood. When Gita approached them, the tenderness they shared disappeared.
Suddenly Leather Jacket locked eyes with me. I froze. It was like looking in a mirror. His anger and pain were my own. He nodded in understanding, a small bond forming between us even though no words had been spoken. I cut my gaze away to study the floor.
Tris touched my hip lightly enough that I didn’t jump. “Let’s sit down before you end up running from the room.”
“I’m not gonna run.” I didn’t wait for her to show me to a seat. I took one closest to the outside in the back row. Right near the exit.
She didn’t comment on my seat selection, and she didn’t excuse herself to get something to drink or eat. She sat next to me.
Preppy and Leather Jacket sat in the same row, but on the opposite side. Again, Leather Jacket scoped me out. I slouched in my chair with my hands still in my pocket and my hood covering my head.
“Do the same people come to every meeting?” I checked the front of the room where a podium had been set up next to a table with papers and brochures.
“There are regulars, but there are always new faces.” Tris hung her arm over the back of her chair and crossed one leg over the other. “The first time I came, I left the room because I cried so hard. I didn’t come back for another month.”
“Are you warning me I may break down in tears? Been there, done that.” I curled my fingers in my palms, trying to warm them up. They were still stone cold.
“Some of the stories are hard to hear. I’ll probably cry when Mom speaks.” Her eyes were already bloodshot.
“Have you come here for another reason other than to support your mom?” I moved closer to her for heat and comfort. I’d never thought she might be a victim also.
She sniffed and wiggled her nose. “I’m here to learn and to understand. I’m not a victim like most of these people.” She turned to me. “I’m majoring in criminal justice and want to get my master’s in mental health forensics so I can become a mental health counselor.”
“Your mom likes to help people, so it must run in the family.” The proof was obvious, seeing how much they’d helped me. “What about Jo? She didn’t want to come?”
“She’s not ready yet.” No judgment or disappointment from Tris, just matter-of-fact. “She’s really sensitive, even though she hides it well. She hasn’t decided what she’ll do with her life yet.”
“Makes sense since she’s so young.”
Her arm moved to the back of my chair. “You’re young also.”
I might be young, but not in spirit. I had aged so many years since last summer. As for my future, career or otherwise, it was up in the air. All I hoped for was not ending up in tears or rocking in some corner by the end of the day.
Gita circled around the room, speaking to those still standing. She directed them to the seats. All obeyed, and everyone sat, scattered in the rows with enough space to go around. The atmosphere in the room became more serious, with an underlying feeling of sadness and awareness of what was to come. I cleared my throat as it threatened to choke me. Tris must have recognized the battle inside me, and she tucked her arm around mine. I unclenched my fists, allowing the circulation there to move easier.
Gita moved to the front of the room near the podium. “Good evening, everyone. Welcome to our weekly support group. I’m so happy to see both new and familiar faces. This week we’re celebrating twenty years here at the center.”
There was subdued applause t
hat quieted down as soon as it had begun. Everyone stared at Gita, barely moving in their seats. Aunt Eloise sat in the front row near the outside, like me. While Gita continued speaking, she sent me a small smile. Tris smiled back at her. My face was frozen, my lips stuck together.
Gita finished her speech and then motioned for Aunt Eloise. They both embraced, and Aunt Eloise moved behind the podium. She stood tall, with her hands folded on top of it. I found myself sitting up straighter and leaning forward to catch her words. Hopefully my pounding heart wouldn’t drown her out.
“Hello, everyone. I’ve been attending the support group for fifteen years,” Aunt Eloise began. “Like most of you here, I’m a survivor. But not a victim.” She curled her fingers around the edge of the podium and lowered her eyes. Her chest expanded as she took a deep breath. “Tonight is my birthday. I’m also celebrating an anniversary, as well as reliving a nightmare. Thirty-nine years ago today, I was raped for the first time. For the next two years, until I was twelve, I was raped and abused countless times. That’s my nightmare. On my twelfth birthday, I was raped for the last time. I choose to celebrate my birthday instead of despising it because I found the courage to stop being a victim and became a survivor by telling others about my abuse.” She lifted her face, free of tears, and broke into a bright smile. “I’m here now to tell you how I survived. This is my story.”
And she told us her story, the same one she’d told me at the hospital, but in more detail.
Chapter THIRTEEN
IF I’D expected everyone to stand up and cheer for Aunt Eloise, I was disappointed. After she finished, there was silence—or I should say no one spoke because much of the room was in tears, including myself and Tris. Aunt Eloise didn’t cry the whole time until Gita pulled her into a hug. Then the tears came. As soon as they finished hugging, another person came forward and hugged her. Hearing Aunt Eloise explain in detail what she’d gone through gutted me. She had only given me an overview at the hospital. Tonight was the big reveal. It devastated me.
I didn’t fall to my knees sobbing or run from the room blinded by tears. I stood, readying to slink out the back, but as I turned, I spotted Arielle near the exit. I couldn’t say how long she’d stood there, but based on how flushed her face was and the shine in her eyes, she had heard Aunt Eloise. Why did she come? Did Tris invite her?
Arielle noticed me and entered the room. Instead of meeting her face on, I rushed out a side door and into the hall. The women’s bathroom was near the staircase. I entered and hurried into the corner stall, shutting the door and resting my forehead on the wall, my eyes and cheeks burning. I would have slipped to the floor and sat there, but the bathroom door opened and there were footsteps. The stall door opened, and Arielle stared right at me, but her shoulders were slumped as if she could barely stand up.
“Why do you keep running from me?” She entered the stall and closed the door behind her.
I backed into the wall and hugged my chest. “Do you mean the other day when I told you about my rape?”
She didn’t flinch, but a strained expression ran over her face. “Now.”
“Because I’m scared of what you think of me and how you make me feel.” I held out my hand as she moved closer. “Why are you here?”
“Tris. She told me you were coming tonight.” She drew her fingers through her curls. “I had no idea about your aunt. Tris never said anything.”
“Why would she tell you? It’s not something someone broadcasts, proud they’re an assault or rape victim.” I moved away from the wall, anger rushing through me. “I only came because it’s my aunt’s birthday, and she wanted me to be here. This will be my first and last time. I can’t be around these people or hear their stories or share mine.”
“Why? It might help—”
“It won’t help! Nothing will!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, my voice breaking. I tried to swallow, but a horrible lump lodged in my throat.
“I’m so sick of crying and feeling like shit. I hate feeling like shit.” I rapped my fist on the wall.
“Let me help you. I’m here because I want to show you you’re not alone.” Arielle touched my arm.
I hid my face in the wall. Sobs fell from my mouth, and I bit down on a knuckle. Arielle moved in and gently rested her face on my nape as she placed her hands on my hips. She started to hum some unknown melody.
I finally surrendered and let her comfort me.
I NEEDED air. Arielle agreed, joining me outside even though it would have been warmer and more comfortable sitting in the hallway. But there was a bench near the front doors we could use.
After I broke down in the bathroom, Arielle brought me out of the stall and helped me wipe my face and blow my nose. She took me by the hand and led me out of the bathroom, allowing me to make the decision to return to the group or leave. When I said I wasn’t ready to return and couldn’t stay inside, she joined me outside, no questions asked.
We sat in the near-chilly evening, holding hands. Her fingers warmed mine. She also sat close enough that if I wanted to, I could snuggle under her arm. But for now, we sat shoulder to shoulder.
“I—” we both spoke at the same time and then stopped.
“You go first,” I prompted, interested in what she had to say.
She studied our combined hands, setting them on her thigh. “I want to apologize for the way I reacted a few days ago. It stunned me into stupidity.”
“You’re not stupid. I don’t know how I would have reacted if a friend of mine told me what I told you.”
“But you’re not just a friend.” She exhaled a long breath. “I want more than friendship, but you’re not ready for more.”
Whoa. Now I was the one stunned. “I like you, but what you want from me is something I may not be able to give you. I can barely function with the relationships I have.” I raised our hands. “This is as far as I can go.”
“Don’t you see how much progress you’ve made?” She smiled and wiggled our hands. “When was the last time you held hands with someone?”
“Before my rape. With Larissa, my rapist’s sister. We held hands when we—” I twisted my hand out of Arielle’s, unable to touch her while I remembered Larissa. It wasn’t fair to Arielle, and it would taint what we had together, no matter how small it was right now.
She didn’t appear hurt by my move. She slid both her hands into the pockets of her coat.
“For some reason Larissa liked to hold hands.” I flexed my fingers and cracked my knuckles. “She would hold my hands so hard, her nails almost digging into my skin when we… kissed.” I rolled my bottom lip between my teeth. “I never understood why she would latch on to me like that, but she wasn’t big on us hugging or wrapping our arms around one another unless we kissed.”
The lines on Arielle’s forehead deepened. “You don’t want to hold hands—”
“It’s not that. I do like holding hands with you. But it always leads to other things.” I bent forward over my knees with my forearms on them. “You’ll want to kiss me.”
The corner of her mouth lifted. “I’m not gonna lie. I’d love to kiss you right now.”
“Oh.” I found myself frowning. “This entire conversation is dumb.”
She drew her arm behind the bench and crossed one leg over the other. “No, it isn’t. If I thought this conversation was dumb or you weren’t worth it, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Why am I worth it?” I asked, more than anxious to know. I’d never understood what Larissa saw in me either. Arielle would have her work cut out for her, unlike Larissa, who had seduced me with no problem.
Arielle dropped the side of her head onto her fist. “You still have an innocence you try to hide. You have an incredible light that shines through. I first saw it when you were on the roof and you thought you were alone. Your expression showed total peace and serenity. Even though you’ve been through unspeakable horrors, you’re still here, seeking the goodness in the world and in people.”
“Huh?�
�� I’d expected her to compliment something physical about me, or maybe something about my mind or even my personality. She was attracted to me because I saw the good in the world, and underneath it all, I was serene?
She swiped the bridge of my nose with her finger. “There it is again. The way your eyes widen and your jaw drops is so pretty.”
I shut my eyes and slammed my mouth shut. Arielle laughed.
“This is too weird.” I covered my face and snorted into my palms.
She tugged on the ends of my hair, and without asking, drew me under her arm and breathed into the side of my throat for a split second before she moved back.
“Did I overstep my bounds?” She worried her bottom lip like I had done to mine earlier.
I set my palm on my throat where she’d kissed me. I still felt her breath and the nanosecond of her mouth on my skin. The tingly feeling spread down my chest and lodged in my stomach.
“N-no, its fine.” I studied her under my eyelashes, swallowing as her face came closer to mine.
She didn’t kiss me but instead brushed her nose on my cheek and rested her forehead on mine. I didn’t jerk away but closed my eyes to soak in her warmth.
“Slow and steady,” she whispered and twined our fingers together.
I started to ask her what she meant, but the door opened. I lurched back, breaking the connection of our foreheads but keeping our hands together. We must have been sitting outside longer than I thought. People from the group came out, including Tris, who scanned the area. When she spotted us, she waved.
“There you are,” she said. I wasn’t sure if she meant me or Arielle, or perhaps both.
“We decided to grab some air after your mom finished talking.” Arielle hung her arm farther around my shoulder. She still kept my hand.
If Tris noticed, she didn’t make a comment or stare. “We’re finishing up inside. Then we’re heading home to open Mom’s birthday gifts and have cake.”
Rage to Live Page 14