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Authors: Kay Gordon

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BOOK: Scars of the Past
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“I am not riding in a wheelchair.”

Jacob the orderly, who had looked friendly when he walked in, now looked annoyed. “It’s hospital policy, ma’am.”

I shot a pleading glance to my mom, and she gave me a sympathetic look. “Baby, you’re tired. Just get in the wheelchair so we can get you home.”

I huffed at her and stomped my feet as I walked towards the wheelchair. I sat down, carefully leaning back against it, and crossed my arms across my chest. My mom looked like she was trying not to laugh as I scowled at her.

“Oh Madelyn, I’m so happy to see that your fiery temper can’t be squashed.”

I didn’t reply, but the annoyance in me eased a bit at my mom’s words, and I let Jacob the Orderly push me down the hallway.

Chapter Three

It had been the longest night of my life.

I woke up in my bedroom and stretched my stiff arms above my head, turning to look at the clock next to my bed. 4:46 pm. As I moved, I jostled the bandage on my back, causing me to suck in a quick breath. Thoughts of the night before invaded my mind and tears immediately pricked my eyes.

I felt so violated, so disgusted, and worst of all- so ashamed.

By the time we’d arrived back to the apartment I lived in with Amanda and Sydney, it was already after 11:00 am, and I had just gone straight to bed, hoping to wake and realize it had just been a bad dream.

Sadly, the reality was still the same after some sleep, so I got out of bed and went into the bathroom Amanda and I shared.

Sydney Lewis, Amanda Franklin, and I had all decided that we wanted to live together way before high school was over, and so when college rolled around we opted for a three bedroom apartment off campus instead of the dorms. It worked well because we were still close to school, but far enough away it didn’t feel like we lived in a frat house. Splitting the rent three ways was cheap, too, and it made it easy for Amanda and me to live independently and go to school without having to get back breaking jobs too.

Sydney didn’t have that issue because, even though she hated talking about it, she came from a pretty wealthy family. Her father was the CEO of an insurance company, and spent more time schmoozing people than he did with his family. Sydney’s mom loved the high life, and put a lot of time and effort into keeping her body looking young. Sydney was an only child, and despite her emotionally neglectful upbringing, she had turned out pretty well grounded.

Amanda and I let Sydney take the master bedroom and bathroom, which were located on the opposite side of the apartment, but it was more for our benefit than hers. Sydney was a very social person, bringing home random guys to hook up with. She jokingly referred to her revolving door of sexual partners as ‘Daddy Issues’ but the sad part was it was probably pretty accurate.

The set up at home gave Sydney the privacy she wanted and it gave Amanda and me the distance we needed. We didn’t have to worry we’d find some naked man in our bathroom, or hear the proof of her achievements through the wall. However, there were several mornings here and there where we’d encounter him doing the walk of shame when we were already in the kitchen. Those mornings were amusing for us, not so much for him.

The three of us had been best friends since middle school, and although Amanda had earned a scholarship to Yale University, the three of us had ended up here together when she decided to stay close to her mom.

Amanda’s father had passed away our freshman year of high school, shortly after her mother was diagnosed with very early onset Alzheimer’s disease. Her mom was deteriorating at a rapidly depressing rate, and Amanda spent a lot of time helping her, despite the live-in nurse they had. Amanda was constantly warring with herself about whether or not she should move back in with her mom, but during her lucid times her mom absolutely forbid it, stating that Amanda needed to live her life.

Turning on the water, I stood in front of the mirror and winced at my reflection. My bright blue eyes looked dim and they were swollen from my constant crying. My dirty blonde hair that usually hung at my shoulders was a matted mess that could have given Einstein a run for his money. But more than that I just looked like a stranger. I had two small bruises on my chin, nail marks on my wrists, finger shaped bruises on my knee, and worst of all- a bite mark on my breast.

I closed my eyes, as if trying to ward my reflection away. I turned sideways and attempted to remove the bandage on my back myself. Once I got it off, I stared at the wounds and scrunched up my nose. It looked like a bad case of road rash, but deep, raw, and angry.

I got in the shower and just leaned against the wall, letting the spray wash everything off of me.  They hadn’t allowed me to shower at the hospital, and I felt so dirty. I turned the temperature to as hot as I could stand before grabbing the washcloth and pouring an exaggerated amount of soap on it. Scrubbing my body raw, I took extra special care to scrub my breasts, neck, face, and between my legs.

When the hot water was gone and my skin was a satisfying color of pink, I stepped out and wrapped myself in my soft robe. The reflection staring back at me looked better than it had before, but still made me want to break the mirror. I felt the lump forming in my throat and I looked away from the mirror, not wanting to see myself cry. I sank to the floor of the bathroom and slumped against the wall. Growing up with an older brother, I had learned that crying didn’t do any good and as a result I hardly ever cried. I decided that in the past twelve hours I had probably shed more tears than the previous ten years combined, and I was sick of it.

Yesterday hadn’t been anything special; we had decided on a whim to go out. Sydney spent most weekends at the club, but Amanda and I didn’t go with her too often, so when she begged we finally gave in. I hadn’t really ever tried hard alcohol, and both girls were excited to introduce me to something other than wine. Apparently a college senior preferring wine over beer was very taboo.

When Sydney had suggested going to Solid, I had been against it initially, knowing Solid had a reputation for being insanely busy, but the girls insisted I was being boring. So I’d let Amanda do my makeup and Sydney choose my outfit, although vetoing the skirt she’d handed me and pulled on jeans instead.

I sat on the bathroom floor long after the steam had dissipated from my shower, and my body was cold. I could hear footsteps pass the door every now and then, and I knew my friends were debating whether they should knock or leave me alone. I don’t know how long I had been in there when Sydney eventually lost the leave-Maddie-alone war and knocked softly.

“Maddie? Are you okay in there?” It sounded more like a plea instead of a question. I ran my hands down my face and took a deep breath before standing and opening the door.

Sydney stood there looking as though she hadn’t slept at all, and I knew she felt partially responsible. I also knew that I should reassure her, but I couldn’t find the energy. I saw her indecisively lift her arm to embrace me before she dropped it back to her side.

“Can I do anything for you?”

I stared at her a moment and moved out of the doorway so she could come into the bathroom. “Actually yeah. I could use some help putting a bandage back over my back.”

She gasped when I turned to drop my robe, and I looked back at her questioningly. “It’s bleeding again. There’s blood all over your robe.”

I just shrugged and handed her the gauze, ointment, and tape and let her cover it up best she could.

When she finished, I pulled my robe back on and turned around to find Amanda outside the door, watching us. She was dressed in a black skirt with the matching embroidered black top- the uniform we wore when we served at a catered event.

“I told Melissa that you were sick,” she explained to me, looking guilty. “I didn’t know if you’d want to go, but I don’t think you should.”

She was right. If I had gotten the call I probably would have tried to go in. Working as a catering waitress wasn’t bringing in the riches my any means, especially because the hours and schedule were nowhere near regular. Amanda and I had been doing it for over two years, and even though it wasn’t glamorous, it could be fun at times. But even thinking about working, about facing a bunch of random people, made me tired.

“Yeah, thank you. I think I might just go lay back down.”

She nodded approvingly before leaning in to give me a brief hug, carefully avoiding my back, and then turned back towards the living room.

Sydney said goodbye to Amanda and followed behind me quietly as I walked down the hall to my room.  She stood in the doorway, looking uncertain.

“Mad, I…” She turned her face away, and ran a hand through her super short hair. Taking a deep breath she plastered a very fake smile on her face. “Want something to eat? Soup?”

The thought of food made my stomach swim unpleasantly but Sydney looked like she needed to do something to keep from falling apart.

“Sure, Syd. Soup sounds great.”

I sat back in the bed and contemplated turning the TV on just to drown my thoughts, but instead I picked up my phone for the first time since last night. I had several texts from Amanda asking if Sydney and I had made it home yet, but otherwise it was quiet. The world had gone on around me while it felt like mine had stopped.

I heard Sydney moving around in the kitchen, her voice low and muffled told me she was on the phone with someone. I figured it was probably my mom, doing the mom thing and checking up on me. I snuggled into my warm bed and closed my eyes, hoping that maybe sleep would find me for a little while longer.

–––

“You like that, don’t you?”

I awoke with a start, the sound of his voice reverberating through my subconscious. My room was dark, and the clock on my nightstand told me it was now almost 11:00 pm. For a few moments I just lay there, trying to regulate my breathing and calm my racing heart. I thought about trying to go back to sleep, but my stomach reminded me that I hadn’t given it anything since the night before.

I stood up, my legs feeling like jelly from lack of use, and realized I was still only in my bathrobe. I threw on a pair of underwear and the t-shirt I used for bed and stopped near the door, listening intently.

The only sound I heard in the living room was the low noises, which told me one or both of the girls was probably in the living room, watching TV or asleep in front of it.

I crept down the hallway quietly, not ready to make my presence known, and peeked around the corner to my left. Our living room wasn’t big by any means, but we had managed to squeeze in the comfortable brown micro-suede sectional couch and it sat in an ‘L’ shape with the TV in the corner. The open kitchen was on the right, connected to the living room with only a tall counter top separating the two.

Amanda and Sydney were both sitting on the couch, Amanda with her feet propped up on the coffee table, and Sydney’s head in her lap. Both of them looked up suddenly as if I made the same noises an elephant does. 

Amanda craned her neck to look at me, Sydney sat up and gave me a smile.

“Hey sleepy head. By the time I’d brought your soup you were already snoring.”

As if on cue I yawned widely, and raised my eyebrows at them. “Well, I’m paying for it now because I’m pretty sure my stomach has given up and is just eating itself.”

Amanda stood and moved into the kitchen where a pizza box was sitting on the counter. “I just got home and picked this up on the way. It’s probably still warm. “

I readily accepted the slice she was holding out to me, and had half of it eaten before I even came back up for air.

“Ugh, thank you. I was apparently starving.” I used one hand to hoist myself up onto the counter, and enjoyed the greasy, cheesy substance as it settled in my stomach. Sydney, still sitting on the couch, smiled at my enthusiastic approach to the pizza.

“Glad you’re eating something. Your mom called and threatened to come over and spoon feed you.”

I crinkled my nose and swallowed the huge bite I had in my mouth. “She worries too much. I’m okay.”

I caught the look Amanda and Sydney passed quickly and I knew they didn’t believe me anymore than I believed myself.

“Detective Wilson called to check in,” Sydney continued casually. “She said to tell you to consider using that card Detective Bradley gave you.”

“What card?” Amanda looked at me as she passed me a can of soda.

I snapped open the can and shrugged my shoulders, avoiding eye contact. “He thinks I should see a therapist.”

“That’s a great idea, Mads. Really.” Sydney stood and joined Amanda behind the counter. “It couldn’t hurt, right?”

I just shrugged again, and I could feel the heat flooding back to my cheeks. No one knew the full details of that night besides the detectives, me, and
him
. I couldn’t bear to see the judgment on their faces when they found out.

I stood up, dumped my napkin in the garbage, and put the rest of my soda in the fridge. “Thanks guys, I needed that. I think I’m going try to go back to sleep so I won’t be a zombie tomorrow.”

Sydney gave me a puzzled look and Amanda said slowly, “You’re going to school tomorrow?”

I let out a heavy sigh and just stared at them both for a minute. “I want to get back to life, guys. I don’t want this to consume me.”

A look of understanding passed between them and they each gave me a quick hug, but the hugs felt cautious, as if they were embracing a cactus and didn’t want to get too close. I retreated back to my room, but without the intention of going back to sleep. I sat in the dark staring at my ceiling, wondering if I’d ever feel normal again.

My phone beside me chirped alerting me to a new text, and I jumped at the sudden noise. My heart pounded and I felt ridiculous. I stared at my phone for a minute, willing my breathing to regulate, before I reached over and unlocked it. I pulled up the text messages and frowned when I saw it was a number I didn’t recognize.

Unknown: Madelyn, there’s a support group downtown for people who have suffered sexual assault. I’m forwarding the information for it and I hope you consider trying it out. I know I’m over-stepping, but it might help. Let me know if I can do anything. Josh.

I read it twice and then, for the first time all day, I smiled. Josh Richards had gone to Sierra View University, but graduated over a year ago. During my sophomore year he had been a fantastic math tutor, and without him I surely would have failed my trigonometry class. For just a short time he had been one of my closest friends, but when graduation came and went, he disappeared quickly- leaving no trace of himself behind.

Seeing him in the club last night had been surprising, and just like he had been that year, he was my rock. Staring at his name in my text messages, my heart fluttered a tiny bit. Josh had been the guy on campus that girls wanted to catch, with his good looks and amazing basketball prowess, but above all he was nice. Most of the guys in college make it their goal to be as immature and obnoxious as possible, but Josh wasn’t like that. He wanted to help people, and would never say no to someone in need.  Obviously he hadn’t changed too much, because he’d gone out of his way to find a support group for me.

I lay in my bed just staring for a few more minutes before I typed out a quick response.

Me: Thank you. For everything.

I settled into my pillows and plugged in my ears buds, bringing up the most upbeat playlist I had and tried to hold off as long as I could before sleep claimed me.

BOOK: Scars of the Past
13.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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