Damaged

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Damaged Page 14

by Melody Carlson


  “Well, I’m glad she did what she did,” Dad assures me. “Harris should not get away with that. The law is the law, no matter how old or young you are.”

  “I guess so.”

  We talk a while longer and I feel better than I’ve felt in days. “Thanks for listening like that,” I tell him. “You made it easier.”

  “Do you need to see a counselor or anything?” he asks with a creased brow. “I mean, I’ve heard of situations like this where the victim ends up with PTSD.”

  “Post-traumatic stress disorder?” This makes me think of Sean and all he’s been dealing with since he came home. It’s hard to believe Sean and I could really be suffering from the same thing.

  “Do you think that’s possible?”

  “I don’t really know.”

  He tilts his head toward my computer. “Maybe we should check it out. Find out what you might be up against. I’ve always believed that knowledge is power.”

  “Me, too.” So I turn on my computer, Google PTSD, and begin to read. “Look,” I tell Dad. “Rape is listed right beneath war.” So maybe Sean and I really do share some common ground here. Who would’ve thought?

  “I’m not surprised at that.”

  I begin to read the list of symptoms aloud. “Bad dreams, fearfulness, feeling numb, difficulty thinking.” I nod. “I guess I’ve had all of those.”

  “Look at this.” He points to a list at the bottom of the page. “Have you had any of these things?”

  I silently read this list:

  • Anger and irritability

  • Guilt, shame, or self-blame

  • Substance abuse

  • Depression and hopelessness

  • Suicidal thoughts and feelings

  • Feeling alienated and alone

  • Feelings of mistrust and betrayal

  • Headaches, stomach problems, chest pain

  “Besides substance abuse, I think I’ve experienced all those things.”

  “Oh, Haley, I’m so sorry.” He puts his arm around my shoulders. “I’d feel better if we got you some kind of counseling. Would you agree to that?”

  “I guess.”

  “I’ll do some calling around for you,” he tells me. “I have a friend who probably knows a good counselor. In fact, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll get right on it.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  He makes a sad smile as he’s leaving my room. “I really am sorry for not being here when you needed me.”

  “It’s okay, Dad. You’re here now.” As he leaves, I wonder if I really need counseling. Already I feel so much better than I did yesterday. Still, it probably can’t hurt. Reading that symptom of substance abuse scared me — I can’t even imagine how messed up my life would become if I turned to drugs for relief. I don’t want to go down that road.

  ...[CHAPTER 17].................

  Dad and I go to church together on Sunday, and it’s actually a very cool experience. For the first time in a long time, I’m reminded that God really loves me and that he can forgive anything, including my recent silent treatment toward him. This is such a different message than what I’ve been hearing from my mom these past few years that I’d nearly forgotten the truth.

  At the end of the worship service, the pastor invites anyone who wants to make a new commitment or a recommitment to raise their hands, and without even stopping to think about it, my hand shoots up. At first I feel conspicuous, but then I realize I want this. I really want this. A fresh start with God is exactly what I need. A few seconds after I raise my hand, Dad raises his.

  After church we go to lunch and we actually talk about the sermon and how it affected us. “I was kind of shocked,” I admit to him. “I mean, that I raised my hand to recommit my heart to Jesus. It was like it just happened, like I couldn’t even stop myself.”

  “I get that.” He nods eagerly.

  “I turned my back on God. I think I used Mom’s warped religion as an excuse to put up a wall.” I take a sip of iced tea. “I can’t believe how stupid that was — to throw away my relationship with God just because Mom painted such a skewed image of him. I thought I was smarter than that.”

  “But I can understand it, Haley. In some ways, I think I did the same thing.”

  “That’s so sad when someone who’s messed up can drag others down the same twisted trail.”

  “But isn’t that exactly what’s happened to your mom?” He looks into my eyes with what seems like real empathy … for Mom. “Hasn’t she been led down the twisted trail too?”

  “Yeah … you’re right.” I let out a long sigh. “But if you try to tell Mom that she’s going down the wrong trail, she’ll just lay into you.”

  “Believe me, I know.” He gets a thoughtful expression as he takes a slow sip of coffee.

  “Anyway, I want to start living my life differently,” I proclaim. “I want to make choices that honor God.” I feel a small rush of enthusiasm. “Like the pastor said, I want a new beginning.”

  “So do I.” Dad grins at me. “Maybe we can help each other, eh?”

  I feel a lump in my throat as I nod. “I’d like that.” We talk a while longer, discussing the things we want to change in our lives and ways we can encourage each other. It’s incredibly cool to have this kind of conversation with my dad, and although I wouldn’t go so far as to say I feel really happy (that seems impossible), I do feel hopeful … and relatively good.

  Sunday evening while reading my Bible, I am faced with my first new spiritual challenge. Reminded of an old foundational truth of Christianity, I realize that just as God forgave me, which was reinforced when I recommitted my life to him today, I also need to forgive others. I’d like to convince myself that this doesn’t include Harris. Unfortunately, I know better. But right now, the best I can do is ask God to help me with what seems like an impossible task.

  Even so, I feel slightly optimistic as I go to school on Monday. I actually took care in getting ready for school today — no more slumming or acting like zombie girl. This is the beginning of my fresh start. However, I’m barely inside the building when I can tell something’s wrong. I get this eerie feeling that everyone is talking about me, looking at me, pointing at me, and whispering to each other, and although I try to tell myself this is just paranoia or maybe a symptom of PTSD, somehow I don’t think so. This feels real.

  Suddenly Emery and several of her friends flock around me in front of my locker. They all look so angry I’m reminded of a lynch mob and wonder if I should make a fast break out of here. But it’s too late; I’m surrounded.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, trying to maintain nonchalance, which is nearly impossible.

  “That’s what we want to know,” Emery says in an accusing tone.

  “Why are you running around telling lies to the police?” Saundra demands.

  “Did you know you got Harris into some really serious trouble?” Deidre narrows her eyes.

  Emery puts her face uncomfortably close to mine. “I know what you’re doing, Haley.”

  “What?” I hold my notebook in front of me like a shield.

  “You’re trying to ruin Harris’s life! You want to take him down. And me with him. And we are not going to stand by and let you get away with it.”

  “All I did was tell the truth.” I close my locker behind me, trying to figure out a way to free myself from this small mob.

  “Thanks to your vicious lies, Harris will probably get suspended, and then he won’t even be able to play football,” Saundra jeers at me. “Thanks to you, we probably won’t go to state now.”

  I stare at her. “You think just because a guy is a football star, he should get a free pass? He should be above the law, allowed to rape girls?”

  “You’re such a liar,” Emery seethes. “You want to ruin our lives just because yours is so pathetic.”

  “Harris ruined my life,” I tell her, holding back tears. “What he did was wrong — illegal even. And I wasn’t going to tell anyone, but t
he police forced me to —”

  “You just want to hurt Harris,” Saundra yells. “Just because he dumped you, you want to get even.” And suddenly they’re all talking at once, making accusations, and I’m actually cringing, ready for physical blows, although I don’t really think these girls would be violent. Their words are painful enough.

  “You should just go back to wherever you came from,” Emery says. “Go back to Loserville and leave us alone!”

  Just then someone grabs my arm and jerks me, and bracing myself for a blow, I close my eyes in fear.

  But when I open them, I see Zach’s face. “Are you okay?” he asks with concern.

  I just nod.

  “Let’s get you out of here.” He escorts me away from the angry crowd.

  I’m shaking so hard it’s difficult to walk, but as we get farther away from their taunts and jeers, tears slide down my cheeks again.

  “Do you want me to take you to the counseling center?”

  “I … uh … I don’t know.” I feel slightly dizzy, like all I want is to get out of here, go home, hide in my bed.

  But he just keeps walking and before long, I find myself back in Mrs. Evanston’s office. She is just hanging up the phone and doesn’t even look that surprised to see me. “Sit down.” She points to the chair, then looks curiously at Zach.

  “I’ll go,” he says as if he’s uncomfortable.

  “Thank you.” She smiles at him.

  Once again, she hands me some tissues, gives me a couple of minutes, then asks what happened. I quickly explain and she just nods. “I expected there’d be some backlash. But I’m surprised at Emery. She’s usually more controlled than that.”

  “She’s furious at me.” I wipe my nose. “I think the whole school is.”

  “Not Zach Lowenstein. And he’s a good guy to have on your side.”

  I nod.

  “Well, I’ll call Emery in for a little chat.” She makes a note of something. “But I want to fill you in on what’s going on with the DA’s office first. I assume you haven’t heard yet?”

  “I haven’t heard anything.”

  “The police arrested Harris this morning in the school parking lot. Unfortunately some of the students, including Emery, witnessed it.”

  “Oh.” I try not to imagine Harris being handcuffed and placed in a patrol car.

  “I just got off the phone with Detective Dorman. She said the DA decided to proceed with the case. Harris will remain in custody until he appears before the judge.”

  “When will that happen?”

  “Probably today. And the judge will set his bail and an arraignment will be scheduled.”

  Suddenly the seriousness of this hits me. “So he’ll be in jail?”

  “Until his bail is paid. I assume his parents will pay it.”

  “Will he be back in school?”

  “No, he’s suspended indefinitely. Unless he is proven innocent.”

  “How long does all this take?”

  “I’m not sure. But I’ll try to keep you informed.”

  I think about the angry girls in the locker bay. “What am I going to do? I felt like they wanted to kill me out there.”

  “I’ll try to run some damage control on the students. Emery is usually a reasonable girl, and she can exert her influence on the others.”

  “She might usually be reasonable, but she’s enraged today.”

  “Do you feel unsafe?” She peers curiously at me.

  I shrug. “I don’t know … I was scared. I’m not used to being yelled at.”

  “Well, if you actually do feel unsafe, feel free to go to a security guard or come to the office. But I promise you, I will try to put a lid on it, even if I have to threaten more suspensions.”

  I take in a deep breath. How much angrier will everyone get if even more kids are suspended — thanks to me?

  “One more thing, Haley.”

  “What?”

  “Based on what you told us on Friday, Detective Dorman thinks it’s possible Harris has done this to more girls than just you. Do you have any idea who the others, if there are others, might be?”

  I shake my head. “Not at all.”

  “Perhaps you could ask around. If there were more girls, the case would be much stronger.”

  “I honestly don’t know who I could ask — or who’d be willing to speak to me.”

  “Well, just keep your eyes and ears open. Sometimes when something like this comes out into the open, others become willing to speak out too. There’s safety in numbers.”

  I nod. “Okay … I’ll let you know if I learn anything.”

  “And remember, if you ever feel seriously threatened or unsafe, get help, Haley. I honestly don’t think Emery and her friends will do anything beyond words, but you never know.”

  ……….

  For the rest of the day, Zach seems to be everywhere I am. At first I think it’s a coincidence, but then when he meets me outside of economics before lunch, I get suspicious.

  “Are you my new bodyguard?”

  He chuckles. “Kind of. I asked Mrs. Evanston for a copy of your schedule so I could sort of help you through the day.”

  “Thanks,” I quietly tell him. The truth is, I’m exceedingly grateful for this. And as he walks me into the cafeteria, where I’m getting looks from all directions, I feel even more appreciative. We get our food, then I go with him to a table where several kids are already seated. The only one I know among them is Poppie, but she and Zach do some quick introductions, although I’m afraid the names go in one ear and out the other.

  I try to act natural with this group, and I am thankful for the welcome they give me, but it’s like I can’t really focus or think. More than ever I think Dad was right to set up a counseling session for me. I probably really do need some help.

  When some of the kids try to direct questions concerning Harris toward me, Zach is quick to cut them off. “Just give her a break, guys. She’s been through a lot already today.”

  In art I give Ms. Flores an update in the privacy of her office.

  “So you’re doing okay?” she asks.

  I shrug. “I’ve had better days.”

  She hugs me. “And you will again.”

  “Thanks. I hope so.”

  For the rest of the day, Zach plays bodyguard. When school is over, he offers to give me a ride home, which I gladly accept. As we walk out to the parking lot, I’m surprised that I never realized what a truly nice guy he is. Was I really that blind?

  He opens the door to a small hybrid car and waits for me to get in. Feeling a little uncomfortable over this special attention, I hurry to get inside. Then as he goes around to the other side, I notice what looks like a church bulletin on the floor.

  “How are you feeling?” He starts his car.

  “I feel like I’ve just spent a day on the battlefield.”

  “It’s going to get better.”

  “I want to believe that.” I bend down and pick up the bulletin. “Is this yours?”

  “Oh, yeah.” He nods as he turns onto the street.

  “My dad and I went to this church yesterday.”

  He tosses a surprised sideways glance at me. “You’re kidding!”

  “No. A friend of his goes there. And, well, after Dad heard about what I’ve been through, he thought maybe it was time for us to get back into church again. We used to go, back when my parents were still married, back before my mom went crazy.”

  “Your mom went crazy?”

  “Well, not literally. Or maybe literally. I’m not sure, really. But about the same time my brother went to Iraq, my mom started going to this weird church, and she started acting different … and my parents split up. And I just quit church altogether.”

  “So where are you with your faith now?”

  Feeling a little self-conscious, I explain about recommitting my life to God.

  “Seriously?” His face lights up. “That is extremely cool, Haley. I’m really happy for you. Are
you happy about it too?”

  “It’s kind of hard to imagine ever feeling truly happy again. But I do feel a little better … kind of like I have a bit of hope now. Before I was so bummed…. It was like I couldn’t see any way out of this mess. Now I think maybe I can survive it after all. Even though … it’s still really hard. Especially after today.”

  “I’ll bet you that by the end of the week, kids won’t even be talking about it anymore.”

  “I don’t know about that. The end of the week is a football game, and if Mitchell loses because Harris is gone, I’m sure everyone will blame me.”

  “I suppose you could be right. But what you might not know is the JV team has a really good quarterback, Ben Stiles. He’s only a sophomore, but I’m guessing they’ll move him up to varsity now. I have a feeling he’s even better than Harris. Plus, he’s a really good guy. He goes to my church too.”

  “It seems like a nice church. We plan to go back next Sunday.”

  “What service did you go to?”

  I tell him and he explains that if we went to the first service instead, I could attend the youth fellowship group afterward. “And if you like, I can drop you home. You know, if your dad wanted to leave after the worship service.”

  “That sounds good. Thanks.” We’re at the condo now. “I really appreciate you playing guardian angel for me, Zach.” I reach for the door handle. “You have no idea.”

  “How about if I pick you up for school tomorrow? That might make it easier on you, in case you get mobbed again.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  He smiles. “Not at all.”

  I smile back. “You know, Zach, you’re a lot better looking than John Lennon.”

  He throws back his head and laughs. “You just made my day, Haley.”

  I wave good-bye as I get out, and as I go up the stairs to our unit, I experience what almost feels like a tiny surge of happiness.

  ...[CHAPTER 18].................

  On the following day, with Zach still acting as my guardian angel, I feel a little more confident. And I even go as far as to take Libby aside in biology. The teacher is out and we’re supposed to be doing lab work, but I feel like this is important. For some reason, I get the impression Libby’s not part of Emery’s we-hate-Haley club. “Are you as angry at me as Emery and the others?” I tentatively ask.

 

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