Authors: MICHELLE LEE
Breathe in. Breathe out. Why can’t I move? I try to wiggle my fingers. I feel the bed move. There is something warm against my left side. I want to lean into it and soak in the warmth through every pore; it is comforting and familiar, but I don’t understand why.
The air is still; quiet. I can hear a monitor somewhere beep. The constant beeping is making me lose my mind. I need to hear something else. I try and concentrate on everything around me. I hear a low murmur. I can hardly make it out. I think someone is talking. I strain my ears, exhausting myself. I can feel the darkness coming back for me. I try to fight it, but it’s a battle I can never win. The weight on my left shifts, I get a whiff of lavender and I am riding the express train down memory lane. I am bombarded with pictures of her face, her laugh, her smell, and the way she plays with her unruly curls. I fight the lonely dark with everything I possess. “Charlie.” I open my eyes not knowing where I am or how I got here.
She is with me; lying in bed with me, in my arms. My body always wants to hold onto and touch her; even when I’m unconscious. She is sleeping. I stroke her hair and touch every part of her I can reach. She is snoring. I laugh silently to myself knowing if I mentioned it she would deny it with her last breath.
I glance over my torso; feeling the bandage wrapped around my middle. They did a really good job. I want to see what damage was done but will have to wait; I’m not waking Charlie so I can see the gruesome after effects of what Michael has done.
I look at her face. The bruises are still there. Her eye is no longer swollen, but it is still discolored. The purple and blue has faded into a greenish color. I don’t remember why she wearing a bandage on her left arm from wrist to elbow. The cut in her lip is healed leaving her mouth soft and pink the way it should be.
I am suddenly overcome with emotion. As I lie here watching and studying her I can’t stop thinking how close we were to loosing each other. The terrible things she has been through. How is she handling all of it? How long did I sleep and leave her here to deal with everything alone?
The rest of the night I lay awake, I slept enough, and watch her sleep. She hasn’t moved once. I play with her hair; twirling a curl around my finger. I stroke her face; I want her to sleep until she is rested, but I am also trying to wake her up. I want to see her eyes. I need to know she is alright.
In the morning, I give her a little shake, when she doesn’t respond I go back to playing with her hair. Her breathing changes and she stiffens under my hands. After a minute she slowly turns her face and looks up at me. There are tears pouring down her face. I wipe at them but it’s useless, they are falling faster than I can swipe them away. I smile at her.
“Are you awake?”
“I think so. You have been sleeping for a long time.” I can’t help but smile at the obvious question.
“I didn’t think you were ever going to wake up. I thought I lost you just as I got you.” Her prefect mouth quivers as the emotions clog in her throat, she can barely finish the thought above a whisper.
I lean up slightly and kiss her face, tears and all. I wince at the pain of leaning and trying to breathe. I put my head down on the pillow and close my eyes needing a little break. “I hurt
everywhere
.”
“Let me get the doctor for you.” She gets off the bed and I feel panicked; I don’t want her to go. I grab for her and hold her there for a minute longer, looking her over. I can see that all the external damage is starting to heal, and heal well. What is going on in her beautiful head? Is she ok, has she talked to anyone about what was done to her? Is she still my Chuck?
“You are doing alright?”
“Please, Brody, you just woke up there will be time to talk lets concentrate on you right now, ok?”
“Ok.” She walks out of the room and I try to prepare myself for when the doctors and nurses come in.
I walk out of my session with Elizabeth feeling better than I have in a long time. We had a break through today. It has been 10 months since I was raped by Michael. It took me a long time to say I was raped. I slowly remembered what happened.
The police and the FBI were able to track down all of Michael’s aliases. They discovered all the women he raped and murdered. The behavioral analysts believe he never got over the fact his mother had an affair and was going to leave his father. All the women he chose resembled his mother physically. He had some sociopathic attributes that probably would’ve stayed dormant if not for the extreme stress of the double murder; of his mom and her boyfriend, and the suicide of his father. All the families have been contacted and are thankful it can be put behind them.
Elizabeth wants me to start to put Michael in my past. He is dead so I don’t have to worry about seeing him; ever. The problem is I want to move past it. I am so ready to forget that I am a victim of horrific violence; the problem is no one will let me forget. Everywhere I go people who know me treat me with kid gloves. I hate it.
I hate the pity I see in their eyes.
I am still living with Brody, but he has moved back into his own bedroom and has not done more than kiss me, on occasion. Anytime I try to have a hot make out session he retreats, telling me to slow down. I just want to attack him, but he mostly avoids situations where it is even possible. I told Elizabeth this today and she says I need to tell Brody my feelings and give him the weekend to think about what he really wants.
We will be 32 this year, and almost dying has given me perspective on what I want out of my life. I called Pat’s friend, whose name is David Gray, and I am now the head of his advertising department. I have my dream job, now I want my dream family. I want it all, everything life has to offer. I refuse to sit back and wallow in self pity. Michael was a sick demented person. How is that my fault? It’s not, and I won’t let him have power over me even in death. I am moving on. I am moving past this, and anyone in my life who can’t move past it will be left behind; including Brody.
I pull up to the house as I finish my pep talk and instantly know I just lied to myself. If Brody isn’t ready I know I will wait for him. Watching him bleed out on the floor of that factory, and thinking he was dead, was the worst thing I have ever had to process. In fact it’s still one of the things that give me panic attacks if I think about it for too long.
Getting out of the car I walk up the steps onto the porch and get out my keys. I take a deep breath, square my shoulders, and walk into the house. Brody is in his office on the phone. I can hear him yelling at someone about payment for setting up a website for them. I sigh, this could take awhile. I walk into my room and pack an overnight bag. I make sure to grab the latest book I’ve been reading. I have always liked to read, but lately it’s become an obsession. Elizabeth thinks it’s because it’s an escape for my mind; blah, blah, blah. Can’t a girl just like to read?
I hear Brody hang up the phone and ready myself for this conversation. “Brody, can you come in here please?” My heart is beating so hard I’m afraid it may come out of my chest.
“Hey, I didn’t hear you come in from work. How was your day?” He walks in and kisses my forehead. “Did you see Elizabeth today?”
“My day was good. We got a counter offer from that big soda company. They really want us to do their next ad, but they are making a fuss about price. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about something and I need you to remain quiet until I finish, ok?”
“Okaaaay?”
He is confused and drags out the ok a little longer than necessary.
“Ok, well first, I want you to know that I love you. I want more for us, for myself. I know what happened to us was awful, but…”
“You, what happened to you” He looks at me and I see the sadness that is always there now.
“Don’t interrupt. But, I am so ready to move past it. I want us to move forward as a couple. I want a family. I want us to have a family, someday. Everytime I go near you, you pull away, distance yourself from me. I’m not broken Brody, I am not that fragile. I am certainly not going to let Michael have this power over us, so what I need
you
to do is think about what you want from me. Don’t say anything now. I am going to spend the night at the
Cider House
, the BB that has the really good apple pie and homemade cider ice cream. When I come home I want answers.”
“Please stay here. We can talk here.”
“Tomorrow.
Tonight I am going to eat pie.” I stand grab my bag and walk out the bedroom door, down the stairs, and out the front door. I get into my car and see him watching from the window. I wave and back out.
I stand at the window and watch her leave. I am in awe of the strength in her. I can’t even begin to sort through my feelings. I go down the stairs and pace the kitchen. I love her, there is no doubt there. How does she know she is ready for a real relationship? Am I?
That is the real problem. Everytime I look at her I see what he did to her. I hear her screams. I see the bruises and cuts. I can’t think of anything else. What if I hurt her, she might think she’s ready, but how does she know?
I think about when Michael shot me. As I lie on the floor in a pool of my own blood I heard her screaming for me. The desperation in her crying ripped my heart out. Later I found out that she tried to kill herself so Michael didn’t have the pleasure of her death. She is a very strong woman. I think maybe I have been under estimating her.
I pick up the phone and call Patrick. “Hey, Pat, How are you, still enjoying the perks of your promotion?” Earlier this month Patrick was promoted to Police Chief for his extensive knowledge of police affairs and excellence in job performance. He did help catch a serial killer, after all.
“Brody, good, I’m good. How are you?” He has a smile in his voice that is only there when he is with his girlfriend Sarah.
“Is Sarah there?”
“Yep.”
“I just have one question and I will let you go.” I sigh and ask him, “Do you think I under estimate Charlie?”
“
Ahhh
, finally.
Yes, I think you drastically under estimate her. She is tough. She is ready to grab life by the horns and tackle it to the ground until it gives her what she wants. This mess with Michael has done nothing except make her tough; she no longer questions or apologies for everything. She is speaking her mind and giving herself the voice he always shut down. Don’t you shut her down Brody; you’ll lose the best thing that has ever happened to you.”
“I love you Pat.” I love that he never holds back when I ask for a truth he gives it whether I like it or not.
He laughs, “Good bye, Brody,” and hangs up.
I go to my room and lay down. I set the alarm for early; I need to do some damage control tomorrow. How did I let myself almost lose her?
Fear.
I am not going to be afraid anymore. I hope she is ready for this. I fall asleep with a smile on my face.