Physically and emotionally in pain, I realize how ostracizing this experience was: you can only understand if it's happened to you. And it's a feeling I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. Things were done to me that night that had never been done before and I will never, ever forget, and I’ve never told a soul.
Chapter 8
I wake up from the nightmare screaming ‘NO’ over, and over. I open my eyes and spot Charlie sitting in the chair beside my bed, a look of concern etched across her face, as she chews on her thumb nail. My mom lays beside me, trying to sooth me, like she did when I was a child. She wipes my hair away from my face that’s sticky with wet tears, and I can’t seem to stop crying. My mom whispers soothing words into my ear until I begin to calm down.
When I’m finally lucid she says, “Tori, I know something’s going on with you and I need to know what it is. I’ve noticed for a while, but I really didn’t think anything of it, until recently. You need to tell me what’s going on. I’m so worried about you honey.”
Charlie stands up looking sad and quietly says, “Maybe I should leave for this? I mean, I’m not really family anyway.”
Mom responds, “No, you live in this house, and you are family whether you realize it, or not. The moment you moved in, you were mine; blood or not. I love you, Charlie, and I know Tori does too. This is a family matter, and girl you’re our family.” Shelby looks at Charlie with love and tears pouring through her eyes and smiles kindly at her.
I find my voice, not wanting Charlie to leave. She needs to know as much as my mom does, and I honestly don’t think I have it in me to repeat it a second time. “Charlie, you are my sister in every way that matters, not just my best friend, and as hard as this is going to be to tell you, it’s important that you know.”
I take a deep breath. This is it. This is my defining moment. I have to tell them, and I’ll see the same shame that is etched across my face every time I think about that day, even a whole year later.
I begin my horrific nightmare. Charlie immediately moves and slides in with me, offering a piece of her comfort. I start at the beginning when Will first asked me out and how absolutely excited I was. But also how incredibly nervous I was. I tell my mom that I drank something right before Will picked me up. I tell her about Will leaving to get us a drink, and how I went outside for some air. I tell her about the foul smelling guy and go into detail with the ‘kissing bites.’ I hear an audible gasp escape Charlie’s lips, but ignore it and continue. I tell her about how I fought hard, and vehemently said no.
“I did momma, I tried really hard, but he was too strong and I couldn’t escape him.” Tears continue to track their way down my face and I feel a soft hand gently rub them away. If only it were that simple, to just rub your demons away and be whole again; if only.
I hear mom whisper words in my ear, but I don’t know what they are. I can’t make them out, there’s just too much jumbled in my head. I hear that she knows I’m a fighter, at least that’s what I think I hear, or maybe it’s what I want to hear.
Taking a small breath I continue recalling my nightmare. I laugh bitterly, picking up my hand for a closer inspection, and turning it over to show them, holding it in the air. “This hand will never be the same ever again. Every day, for the rest of my life, I will forever feel the truck handle being embedded into the back of my hand. My hands were held down by one of his strong hands while he used his other hand for other things. Shit, it’s only a hand for fuck’s sake and it will never be the same. Just think, anytime a guy wants to hold my hand, I’ll feel the itching begin and then the itching will turn into a sharp, digging pain. I can look at my hand and physically see there isn’t anything wrong with it, yet there is. I’m damaged beyond repair and I will never be whole.”
My mom stays silent; quiet tears run down her face.
Charlie’s arm tightens on my arm, but I can’t look at her. I’m trying so hard to be strong, but if I take a chance and look, I will completely break, and lose it, and there is so much more to tell.
Transported to another time and place, I remember as if it happened this morning. “I heard Will, calling me from the distance, and I tried to make as much noise as possible. But then he slapped me so hard I saw stars and tasted blood.” As if this wasn’t bad enough, and hard enough to tell, I tell her about the end and how, after he was done with me, I was discarded like trash. “He opened the door and told me to get out, and pushed me until I stumbled out of the truck and fell, landing on my hands and knees.” Once again, I pick up my hands inspecting my palms but see nothing. I remember them being battered and dirty. I scraped them when I fell. I remember them hurting.
Dead silence; that’s all there is, and I’m all talked out. There’s nothing left of me.
When I'm done with my tale, Mom sits still as night, tears glistening but with nothing of what I expected. There is no judgment appearing on her face, only love, showing bright, and true. I also see pain, and I know she weeps for what I’ve lost, and for my internal pain that I’ve held in for all this time.
Suddenly, she bolts up and begins to pace the room. Anger pours off her in waves, and I can tell she’s desperately attempting to reign in the outrage that is wafting off her. “Tori, we have to go to the police, we have to do something! He can’t get away with it! He hurt you, baby, and he needs to be punished,” she says as tears trickle down her face. She stops pacing and stands stock still, just looking at me waiting for me to say something, anything.
The thought of going anywhere right now freaks me out. It’s hard enough to tell my mom and Charlie and the thought of going into a police station sends me go into hysterics. “Mom, I don’t know who he is and I don’t know his name. I know nothing and this happened a year ago. I waited a whole year before I said anything. What do you think they are going to say? It’s hopeless, so hopeless.” I sob out at her.
Defeated, she looks down at the carpet and rubs her hands over her eyes before crawling in bed behind me, wrapping me in her arms, just like she used to. She asks me something so unexpected, “Is this okay?”
I nod my head, but it causes me to hyperventilate. She’s so worried about touching me, and my reaction; a mother should never have to ask if she can hold her child. This makes me feel worse. “Tori, I’ve got you and you are safe baby.” She says with a slight tremor to her voice.
I finally glance at Charlie, seeing her eyes so full of emotion for me, tears threatening to trickle down, trying desperately not to let them fall. I know Charlie, she didn’t want me to hear her cry and make it worse for me. If she only knew that she couldn’t. I feel dead and numb, but finally not quite so alone anymore. She nods her head towards my hand, silently asking me if it’s okay. I manage a slight nod, my head feeling too heavy to hold up anymore.
My mom begins to softly sing me a song that I’ve always loved. One she would sing whenever I got hurt, or I was upset: Fleetwood Mac’s Landslide.
As she sings to me, I listen to the words reverberate through her chest and close my eyes, listening to her husky timber voice. The same voice I received that mirrors mine; my love of music coming directly from my mother, and passed down to me.
I fall asleep in my momma’s arms, listening to her sing and, for the first time in a long time, feel content and safe.
Chapter 9
Please no, no, please, I scream out as loud as I can. I see my tormentor up above me and the horrible grin smeared across his face that says this is a game and this is his idea of fun. My insides are churning and I can’t get away. My hands feel like they’re in a vice and I’m stuck, and oh my God, the back of my hands hurt, they hurt so badly. He’s holding on to them for dear life with one strong, large hand. The more I move and thrash, the more he tightens his grip, smiling his evil grin.
All of sudden, other thoughts come rushing to the forefront of my mind. Like, why did I have a drink? Why did I feel like I had to in order to be comfortable with Will? I never had to before with any guy, so why him? I start to hate mysel
f and cuss myself internally while this monster starts discussing his ‘love bites’ and marking my skin and how much he’s going to love seeing his mark all over my body. I’m such a fucking idiot, why did I drink? As I cry harder, the more he enjoys this game of his. I tell myself I need to find a way to calm down, as hard as it’s going to be.
But then I hear a voice, and I swear it’s calling my name. The voice gets louder, it's Will. He’s calling for me, looking for me. I begin to squirm, attempting to scream for him when I am slapped so hard, my face is thrown to the other side. I feel a trickle of blood, and then I taste it. Tears cascade down my face as I begin to crumble piece, by piece.
“Will, come back!” I inwardly scream. Please come back; I’m here, I’m right here. Why don’t you look harder for me?
Then I feel a hand begin to snake its way down, and my body begins to revolt from the touch and I can’t do a thing to stop it. It feels like a million spiders crawling down my body to my furthermost private area. When he begins to yank my skirt up, I fight even harder and then I scream and I scream until I’m hoarse and I fight to the very fucking end.
“Tori, Tori please wake up baby, It’s just a dream, it’s not real I promise. You’re safe and you’re home.” Then I hear her whisper, “I would take this all away from you baby if I could, I swear I would.”
I hear my mom call for Charlie, “Can you grab me a warm towel, Hun? Thank you.”
I can’t open my eyes, they feel glued shut and heavy and my throat feels raw, like I’ve been screaming my head off. Above all, I feel completely battered, not only on the outside, feeling the bruises that have been gone for a year, but on the inside as well. I don’t want to talk. I have nothing to say, as I continue to rehash this nightmare over, and over. It won’t go away; then a sob tears out of my mouth, and I turn my head away from the voices.
I hear Charlie walk back into the room, and warm fingers turn my head. I let her, because I don’t care anymore. A warm towel wipes its way across my face in gentle strokes, then carefully around my eyes allowing them to finally begin to open; the light is blinding. I get out a muffled and hoarse whisper for the light to go out. They seem to understand, and turn it off.
“Tori, I know you can hear me. We need to get you help baby, and, by God, we need to find out who this boy is. He needs to go to jail and pay for what he’s done. You need to talk to someone, you can’t do this by yourself.”
I don’t say anything because what can I say?
That’s a damn joke… Nobody will believe me anyway. I’m the fucking idiot that drank. I wasn’t strong enough to fight off my attacker. I screwed up completely and look what I’ve done. I’ve ruined my life. What makes her think anyone is going to give two shits about me? Hell, I don’t even give two shits about me. It doesn’t matter anymore; I don’t matter anymore.
“Tori, I know this is hard baby, you’ve been carrying this for over a year by yourself. Guess what baby girl, you’re not alone anymore. You can’t handle this on your own. It’s impossible. You have to get up. I need you to get up. Something triggered this memory somehow and I don’t know what. What I do know, is you can’t keep reliving these nightmares.” My mom begins to get choked up and says with conviction, “I love and miss my Tori. My Tori is strong, and has a ‘take no bull shit from anyone attitude’ that you got from me. My Tori is strong willed and doesn’t get down on herself, or beat herself up. My Tori loves fiercely, and stands up for others, and fights for what’s right and by God, I want her back. So you, Tori, are going to fight. You are going to fight because I need you, and because Charlie needs you, and because you need you to be.” Her voice rises with the last part, “Do you hear me?”
I can only nod my head, because I’m choked up by her words, and don’t know what to say. What can I say, really?
I miss me too.
Chapter 10
This might just be the dumbest thing I’ve done today, or ever for that matter, but I was worried about Tori. I had this need to make sure she was okay. I tried calling Charlie, but she never answered. I spoke to Maverick, and he just said he’d spoken to her briefly. Something just wasn’t right.
So here I am, parked right outside her house, as I continue to contemplate, do I stay and knock on the door, or do I just put the truck in drive and wait to hear from Charlie or Maverick? Making up my mind, I tell the coward lurking around me to take a hike, and muster the nerve to walk to the door.
Standing at the door, I gently knock, still concerned that I’m disturbing someone. The door quietly swings open, and I see a very bedraggled Ms. Easton, Tori’s mom Shelby. Tori is a younger version of her mom, but they look more like sisters than mother and daughter.
Plastering a smile on my face I ask, “Hi Ms. Easton, I just stopped by to see how Tori is? She didn’t seem to be feeling well when I dropped her off the other day.” I know that’s putting it mildly, but it’s still true and I don’t want to alert her to anything that Tori may not want her to know.
Turning around, she looks back in the house, grabs the doorknob and shuts the door, leaving the two of us on her front porch. She’s scaring me and my heart starts to beat double time out of worry. She looks at me tiredly, letting out a deep sigh before beginning to speak, “Will, there are things I can’t and won’t discuss with you. It’s not my place to say anything. The only reason that I’m telling you this much is because I know you care about her. Just know, this needs to come from her, and she’s not in a good place right now.” Her eyes begin to glisten and she wipes her eyes with her hand, trying to keep the tears at bay.
I don’t know what to say. I feel powerless. I knew she wasn’t good, but I didn’t expect this. I never thought I would see Ms. Easton look so beaten down. Then I realize there is only one thing that I can truly offer her. Clearing my throat and hoping that I don’t sound like a dumbass and I come across as sincere, because I am. I’ve never been so sincere and honest in my whole life.
“Can you give Tori a message from me? I would love nothing more than to deliver it in person, but I think it’ll be okay coming from you. Would you please tell her...?” My voice begins to choke up and crack with all of the emotions that I’m feeling. “Please tell her I’ll always be here for her, in any capacity, and, and, I’ve never stopped caring for her, even from a distance.”
Tears fall down Ms. Easton’s face with my last words. She takes another swipe at her eyes and lays her hand on my shoulder, when I turn to leave. “Will, I will tell her. And thank you. Thank you for caring about my daughter.”
Without even thinking, the words just pop out of my mouth, “Tori’s easy to care about, and truth be told, I’ve loved her for a year.” This last part comes out as a whisper as I turn to leave, not knowing when I’ll get to see, or talk, to her again. I don’t turn to look at her again; I just walk away. I walk to my truck and climb in. I watch her go back inside and shut the door. I feel the urge to look up and when I do, I see Tori standing at her window, like a ghost with her hand pressed firmly on the glass, as if to say good-bye.
I watch her until she finally turns away. The thought of not having Tori in my life at all, hurts more than I can bear. It’s not a thought I wish to entertain. I need my Tori, I need my mouthy redhead back. I don’t know what’s wrong, but I need to know what I can do to fix it, and if I even can.
Not until she’s completely gone from my sight do I realize my hand is on the glass of my window.
Chapter 11
As I watch Will walk away and get in his truck, a million feelings burn through me. My hand, of its own accord, touches the glass of my window. Seeming to sense me, Will looks up and sees me standing here. For a moment, I swear my heart stops. A look of sadness fills his face. I don’t know why he’s sad, but it breaks my already broken heart in two. I watch as his hand mimics my movements and he places it on the glass of his window. I remain there for just a moment before forcing myself to walk away, afraid he’ll ‘see’ something just by the look on my face. As if telling my s
ecrets has left me exposed for all to see. Do I appear different? Can anybody tell what I’ve been through just by looking at me? I know these are silly questions, but they run through my mind nonetheless on a consistent basis.
I turn around and walk to my bed, knowing my mom will be up shortly. Just as I finish the thought, I hear a light knock on my door. “Tori, that was Will and he has a message for you, which I think you really need to hear.”
I tentatively say, “Okay.” I clench my hands together in anticipation for whatever it is that had Will so compelled to tell my mom something so private.
Taking a deep breath she says, “He wanted me to tell you that he’ll always be here for you. But more importantly he wanted you to know… he has never stopped caring about you, not even from a distance.”
It takes her one good look at my face to see I need a few minutes of alone time. She steps out of the room, shutting the door and granting me some much needed privacy.
Tears lightly stream down my face, because these are words I wanted to hear a year ago. I care about Will a lot, but I never know how he feels. Sure, I’d catch him looking; that wasn’t a new thing. Guys often checked me out, this isn’t me being conceited. I know my height, frame and my blasted strange colored hair get me noticed. But I never wanted another guy's attention on me, only Will’s. I wanted his piercing green eyes to see me, and only me. I wanted to shiver when I heard him say my name because it caused sparks to ignite, just from the timber of his voice. I wanted Will to eventually be my first. The last thought causes me to choke on a sob, until I’m crying and hitting my pillows and screaming. “Why, why?” I have no other words to say that make any sense; only why.
I cry for the loss of a first time. I cry for the loss of a first love with which to share a first time. I cry because something was taken from me, something that wasn’t his to take.
Heartstrings Page 4
