by J A Heron
“Can’t wait to see it.” I toss a wink in his direction.
I make my way up to my room, needing to put my feet up after an exhausting day. I figure a couple of hours to relax before dinner this evening will do me a world of good. I turn the corner at the top of the stairs to my room, when I’m grabbed. One arm wraps around my shoulder, the other hand over my mouth. I don’t see who has their arms around me, pinning me tight against their chest.
“Do you like making a fool out of people?” Stuart’s voice whispers in my ear from behind.
My back arches, trying to create distance when I feel his arousal pressing against my lower back. I want to scream, but no sound will come. I knew there was something off about this guy. He screamed bad news the day I found him having sex with Jess. Thoughts race around my head. Was Jess forced into the situation, or did she give her permission? Do the staff of Witchfield Manor know this guy is a sexual predator?
Stuart pushes me, hard. My face hits the door frame as he holds both my wrists in one of his hands. His other hand pushes my face into the wall, holding me tight. Fight or flight comes into force as I try to come up with a plan to get me out of this situation. It’s difficult to think straight when your whole body is being strangled with fear. I’m not stupid. I know what he plans to do if he gets me alone in my room. I’m not going to be a victim. I’ll do anything, anything to make sure I don’t fall prey to this sick bastard. His rough hand moves from my hair and begins patting down the pockets of my sweats. He reaches in, finds my key, then puts the key in the lock. He’s temporarily distracted; now is my chance. I push back with all my might, catching him off guard, then swiftly kick up and backwards.
Bingo!
I make contact with my target and he releases his hold on me. “Bitch!” he yells out. Running away, I look over my shoulder to see him standing there clutching his balls in agony. I turn the corner of the landing, and smack into the chest of Dan. My out of breath pants transform into a sigh of relief. “Dan, help,” I squeak out.
He wraps his arms around me, “What’s going on?” His question hangs in the air when he spots Stuart kneeling on the floor, wincing in pain.
“He tried to… he.” The knot in my throat prevents me from completing the sentence.
As Dan looks from me to Stuart, repeats a couple of times, I can see he’s trying to put two and two together. I want him to find the right total. I want maths to help me, save me, where my words, my English, is failing me.
“Go downstairs. Call the police!” Dan orders.
I don’t hesitate. I run, as fast as my feet can move. I take care down the stairs, and relief washes over me when I see Claudia at her desk. She hears my approach, and when she looks up, she’s startled by my presence. I reach over and grab the phone, but she snatches it from my grip. “Call the police!”
“What’s going on?”
“He tried to attack me.” My words come a little easier now I feel safe.
“Who?”
“Stuart! I want that fucker arrested!” I yell out. “Dan, he’s up there. He might need help.”
Claudia reaches under her desk. Her actions confuse me, but then it all becomes clear as an alarm sounds, and within a matter of seconds, two security guards come running. “Up there,” my shaky voice says, as I point in the direction of the rooms above us.
My racing heart slows significantly. But when I see the security guards leading Stuart down the stairs, followed by Dan, the palpitations begin again.
Stuart glares at me. I feel so intimidated. I focus on my feet.
“Police are on the way,” Claudia announces. I remain seated, not wanting to move until that fucker is handcuffed and placed in the back of the police car.
An hour passes, then the male and female officers cuff Stuart and lead him out the door. I hope that guy gets some help. He needs it. I think he’ll be rehabilitated in the best rehab facility the tax payer can buy. Prison is renowned for helping offenders kick their habits.
“You okay?” Dan asks, as if talking to a child.
“I will be,” I tell him. “I think I need to lie down.”
Dan didn’t leave me for the whole night. I felt safe in his company, and I kept thanking him for helping me, for saving me. He refused to take credit for apprehending Stuart, and reiterated the fact that it was my strength that defeated him.
When I close my eyes, I can still feel that guy’s hands on me, and I shudder when I think about what could’ve happened.
Two days have passed since that scumbag tried to hurt me, and I’m surprisingly upbeat, determined to not let that fucker destroy all the arduous work I’ve put in here. He doesn’t deserve my misery. The best thing I can do is not let what he did affect me. His intentions were clear; I’m not a fool. I’ve had a lucky escape, and I plan on keeping my head held high, counting my blessings, and moving on. Going home with my dignity, and self-respect intact will be the best revenge. Seeing him locked up would be just as sweet. The police have taken my statement, along with Dan’s and Claudia’s, and we’ve been told he’s remanded in custody by a judge. He’s done this before. He has a record of sexual assault, and the unit here feel responsible for my attack by letting him come here. I’ve received apologies, on many occasions, and I’m grateful for their concern, but right now, all I want to do is forget about it then get out of here.
With everything else happening, all the good, there is another dark cloud hanging over me today. Today is the day we find out when Jess’ funeral will be. Now is the time to prepare to say my goodbyes to my friend. I’ve prepared for my fair share of funerals, and the way I deal with this sad time will be no different.
Behind every dark cloud, there’s a glimmer of sunshine.
The gleam of light I hold close, the very reason behind my positivity, all boils down to the healing power I’ve been handed. My reward is a second chance, and this gift is something I will not throw away. In a heartbeat, I’d do this all again, but this is a one-time only opportunity, and to squander it would be the mother of all mistakes.
Stuart is behind bars, I have strong friendships, and I’ll be leaving shortly with a heart so full. Only one thing would make my life complete. But that’s a pipe dream; so far out of reach it would be a miracle if our worlds collided once more.
I’m preparing to pack up all my stuff and say goodbye to this place, these people, for good. As much as I’ve loved making friendships here, I hope I never see them again. Especially the staff. If by chance our paths do cross, then it means I’ve failed; I’ve fallen off the wagon, and that thought is worse than anything I can imagine. I’d like to keep in touch via social media, but I’m clear that I’d much rather keep them all at arm’s length. I’d like to think I’d be supportive to my fellow rehabbers, should they need it. If they need me, I’d never turn my back on them. I know how hard the fight is, and anyone who’s willing to step into this kind of environment earns my respect.
I have one more session with Dr. Hart, but the highlight of today is seeing Benny, and I suppose we’ll be discussing our plans for settling back into our old routine. I still have Grumpy to face, and I’ve already been advised by Dr. Hart not to carry on working in his bar. Being around all that alcohol will be too much temptation. Besides, an alcoholic in recovery working behind a bar is both funny and ludicrous. I intend to follow his advice, but he has said not to stay away from places where booze is readily available. I have to teach my mind the art of control. The true test of my willpower will come when I’m in the company of both alcohol, and the people drinking it. I also must find the power to refuse a drink whenever someone offers. I don’t need it, I don’t want it, and I certainly welcome the idea of not suffering with a hangover ever again.
I sit opposite my best friend and her boyfriend. Benny and Raven arrived dead on the hour for visiting time, and that means we get a full hour to make our plans.
“I’m so proud of you,” Benny says with tears in her eyes.
“Don’t be daft. I’v
e done what I had to do. I’ve done it for you, because I lied, and tried to be deceitful. I hid my drinking from you. From everyone. I’ve done it for Audrey, because, well, she paid for all this,” I say, sweeping my hand. “I’ve done it for me, because I don’t want to die this young.”
I try so hard to keep my emotions in check.
I explain briefly what happened with Stuart. Benny asks me if I’m okay for the third time in two minutes. “I’m fine, honestly.” My reassurance seems to be sinking in. I don’t want to tell Benny I’m still a little shaken by the whole thing. I don’t want her to worry. I want to talk about other things, particularly why they both keep looking at each other with childish smirks on their faces, and the reason behind their constant fidgeting and excited looks.
“You’ve eloped, haven’t you? Or you’re planning to. Have you popped the question?” I direct the last question to Raven.
Benny interjects, “Don’t be ridiculous. We hardly know each other.”
“Why is it ridiculous? We could do it.” Raven has taken Benny by surprise, clearly; her mouth is hanging open. The subject of marriage has not been mentioned by either of them yet.
“Is that a proposal?”
“It could be.” Raven is playing this cool, and their exchange makes me giggle.
“Okay, when you do propose, I want a more romantic gesture, not in a flippant way during a visit to see my friend in rehab.”
The way she scolds Raven is endearing, and the way Raven looks at her in this moment makes my knees weak. His expression is one of adoration, as if, in his eyes, his world begins and ends with her. She’s so lucky.
Still, this doesn’t explain their animated behaviour. “What’s going on, guys?” I need to know, because, to be honest, they’re both freaking me out.
“Nothing.” Benny cuts me off, stiffening her back and displaying a calmer persona. I make it clear I’m confused. Deep frown lines appear across my forehead.
A change of direction is needed here. “So, what’s happening Friday?”
“Claudia has your bank card and other personal stuff, and transport has been arranged to take you to the port. You can collect your tickets and boarding pass there for a ferry back to Jersey any time. Then I will collect you in St. Helier when the boat comes in.”
“You’ve thought of everything,” I remark, with warmth in my eyes.
“I’d arrange a party, you know, to welcome you home, but I think it would be inappropriate.”
“Yes, it would. Please don’t do anything elaborate. A low-key return and you guys is all I need.” I smile sternly. I want her to know I’m serious. I don’t want a fanfare, or any kind of celebration. Being someone who has spent a considerable amount of time in rehab for addiction is not something to be proud of. However, the fact that I have attended and won is something I’ll always be proud of. I understand people have been concerned, and looked after me, but I’m more than ready to close this chapter and move onto the next.
The look Raven and Benny share increases my curiousness. They’re behaving so oddly. “Come on, spill,” I demand.
“We do have some news,” Benny says nervously.
“And?” I’m starting to get agitated.
“You tell her,” she says to Raven.
I look him dead in the eye, hands out, palms up. “Well?”
“You have a new roommate.” He speaks slowly. I can see he’s wary of my reaction as they both wait cautiously.
I pause for a moment, the very definition of aloofness. I count to five, keeping the tension going before I reveal how I feel. “That’s great!” I blurt out, and they both breathe a sigh of relief. They were so scared to tell me; that’s clear to see. “I’m so happy for you guys.” I am, it’s the best news, but in the back of my mind I hear, ‘they won’t want you living with them forever’.
“Really?” Benny says guardedly.
“Of course, silly. I’m more than happy. Your happiness means everything to me.”
I have no doubt Raven is the man for her; they adore each other. They look at each other with so much love in their eyes, it melts my heart. He’s endearing, and I think he may just worship the ground she walks on.
“We’ve talked, and don’t worry. You’re to stay with us for as long as you need. Stay forever for all I care.” She chuckles. “But I know you. You’ll want your own space at some point.”
She’s right, and her reassurance that I still have a home for as long as I need makes me love her even more. We both knew when I first moved in, when she saved me from the streets, that one day one of us would find love first, and our living arrangement would change.
“What about your parents? How do they feel about all this?”
“Oh, they’re on board. They’ve agreed to let me live my life how I want. They don’t really have a choice.”
“Huh? What did I miss?”
“Let’s just say, Audrey saved me as well as you. I’ll tell you all about it when we have more time.”
She’s left me chomping at the bit, and I want to quiz her more about her cryptic comment, but Claudia calls time on visiting. If I was a child, I’d be lobbing my toys out of my pram about now.
We hug it out, say our goodbyes, and as I watch them leave, I’m now counting down the hours to walking through those doors myself.
Dr. Hart is unusually chirpy when I sit in my usual chair. Seeing your shrink in a happy mood is a little unsettling. He’s either had a pay rise or he got laid; either one makes me envious.
“Only a couple of days to go,” I sing as I assume my typical position.
“That’s right. You’ve done amazing. The model patient.” I’m unable to stop the smug grin appearing on my face; I think I’ve earned it. “Now, time for some serious stuff.”
“Don’t like the sound of that.” I chuckle.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds. I’ve been working on a lifetime plan for you. It will start the moment you set foot out those doors. I’ve included lots of things that will aid your recovery.
The first thing; a new job. Please do not go back to the bar. The temptation will be beyond your control. By all means go in there from time to time, but please keep me in mind if you find yourself ordering a rum and Coke from Grumpy.”
“Thoughts of you is enough to keep anyone sober,” I say in jest. He laughs at my comment.
“Good. Now, second. If you have friends who are regular drinkers, and start off a weekend on a bender, then I’m afraid you’ll need to distance yourself from spending time with them. They’ll say things like, just one won’t hurt, and you’re so boring now you’re sober. It will hurt, it will tempt, and they’ll more than likely win.
Thirdly, regular attendance at Alcoholics Anonymous is not mandatory, but highly recommended. Studies show that recovering addicts stay off the sauce a lot longer the more they attend meetings. I’ll put addresses of local meetings in the St. Helier area for you in the information booklet I’m compiling for you.
Fourth, and this is just a suggestion, and one I’m an advocate for. How do you feel about becoming a sponsor?”
“You mean, helping someone else? Someone like me?”
“Yes. It’s a brilliant tool. You’re helping someone recover while using the advice you give to support your own. Honestly, it’s the best thing I’ve ever done.”
“You’re a sponsor?” I had no idea. “You’re an addict too?”
“I’m a recovering addict, and that’s what you are now. I’ve sponsored many people over the years, and it’s helped me immensely. I’m twenty years sober this year, and I’ve sponsored dozens. I’m glad to say the ratio of successes to failures is in my favour.”
“That’s fantastic.” I’m unable to hide the genuine smile of approval. Dr. Hart looks slightly bashful; something I’ve never seen before from this man. I guess he’s human after all. Yet, in this moment, I see him as a comic strip superhero, and that status is confirmed; the number of people he’s helped is a true testament. “I’d love to
be a superhero… err, I mean, sponsor.” I chuckle at my error.
He shrugs it off. “That’s a Freudian slip if ever I heard one.” Always with the psychology bullshit, but he’s adorable. That’s something I never thought I’d use to describe this man, especially when I first met him. “Okay, lastly, we look at the risks of a relapse, and don’t worry if you do. It’s a natural part of the recovery process. The key thing to remember is, if you do drink, then you must agree to start afresh as soon as you can. Ideally the next day. Go to a meeting, and get into the routine again of keeping busy, surrounding yourself with friends who can help you, and don’t beat yourself up about it. Yes, I’ve been twenty years sober, not one drop has passed my lips, and this work means everything to me. Helping people like you is why I get up in the morning, because I feel passionate about what I do. You need to find that. Find that passion, make it stick, and keep fighting.”
His words have a resounding effect on me, and if he can get through twenty years, then so can I. This session was not only enlightening, but fundamental in preparation of my exit. I feel ten feet tall, ready to face the challenges ahead, but more importantly, I’m optimistic about my future.
“Will I see you again before I leave?” I ask.
“You’ll see me, but this is our last session, and I have no doubt you’ll be a success. I’ve seen determination in you, Kat. Don’t let the past drag you back down. Yes, it happened, and it was terrible, but you must live your life. Be a little selfish for your own wellbeing, and if problems arise, deal with them head on. Do not try to find the solution at the bottom of a bottle.
I don’t want to sound like I’m preaching, but my experiences as an addict, and me passing on those experiences, has helped many people before you.”
“Thanks, Doc.” I wipe a stray tear away; it escaped without my knowledge.
“No thanks necessary, Kat.” His warm, compassionate smile adds a little extra to the power he’s given me.
