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This wasn’t supposed to happen.
I feel my breath speeding up.
The room around me seems to close in on me. The walls are so close, yet so far away.
Everything is swimming.
No one will ever love you.
You’re lucky I’m here for you.
You begged me for it. Slut.
You’re a dirty faggot.
No one wants used goods.
My breath quickens. It doesn’t feel like I’m getting any air. I can’t see anything. The room is gone. The only thing I can see is his face. His hands touching me. Yelling at me. Hitting. I deserved it. I’m dirty.
I could go back to him and beg him to take me back.
He’s the only one who’ll ever love me.
It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.
I’m such a bad person. I’m such a dirty, bad person. I don’t deserve to be here. I don’t deserve to be cared for. I don’t-
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
I think the door opens. There’s footsteps somewhere. A voice talking. Words… I can’t hear what they’re saying. A hand reaches out to me. It looks like his hand. Again. His hand reaching out to touch me again.
”No!” I shriek and jump up. An IV pulls out of my arm from the force, but I don’t feel any pain.
More words… More voices… More hands.
They grab me. He grabs me.
”No! No, no, no, no, no! I’m sorry! Please! Not again!” Hot tears spill down my cheeks. “Anything but this! Please!”
I thought I was safe here. I was supposed to be safe. Why is this happening to me?
A sharp pain in my neck. A needle? I feel my eyelids getting heavy.
What?
I see my mom standing there crying as I struggle to keep my eyes open. I want to crawl into her arms, but I’m so tired.
I wake up in my bed. There are restraints on my arms. I’m tied down. Trapped. Not safe, not safe, not safe-
“Will!” Mom rushes over to me. Her eyes are red and puffy. Was she crying? “It’s okay, you’re safe. I’m here.”
”But he- I saw him.”
She rubs my hand with her thumb. It feels safe. Secure.
”Sweetie,” Her voice nearly cracks as it comes out. “God, you were having a flashback. Uh, the doctor said it was common after people go through things of this measure. Do you know what brought it on?”
What did bring it on?
I was in bed. I felt happy, like really happy. Why did I feel happy?
Oh, yeah. I’d talked to Michael. He makes me so happy. I think I love him—
Oh.
That’s the problem. Right.
I’m unlovable. No one would want to like me in that way ever again. Not after what happened to me. I’m just damaged.
And whenever I look at Michael I just see him.
”Sweetie,” Mom wipes away tears that I didn’t even know we’re there. “Talk to me, please.”
”I,” My voice is stuck in my throat. It feels like I’m trying to swallow a rock. “I- I was thinking of Mike.”
A brief pause. “Okay,” She smiles at me. It’s one of those pity filled smiles. “What about Michael?”
Deep breaths. In and out.
”I realized I love him, but I- I can’t!”
”Why not? He likes you too, right?”
”I don’t know. No one should love me. I’m dirty and broken and used.”
Her eyes widen and her brows furrow. “Wha- No, you aren’t dirty or broken or used. Why would you say that?” Her tone sounds genuinely hurt, like she never would’ve expected those words to come out of my mouth. Out of anyone’s mouth.
But it’s the truth.
”I just,” I try to talk, but his voice is always there in the back of my mind.
No one will believe you.
Mom takes a breath and sits down. “I think it’s time I share part of my life with you. A learning experience for you.
”See, I was in love with this guy when I was much younger. He was great at first. He always took me out and kissed me and it felt so real.
”It didn’t last forever though. A few years into it and he became a raging alcoholic asshole. He’d only yell at first, but then he started hitting. He always said it was my fault, and - dammit - I believed him. It took me opening up to people around me and years of self acceptance for me to understand that it wasn’t my fault that he was a shitty person,” Mom blew a breath out.
”Was it Lonnie?” I ask hesitantly.
She just smiles, “Yeah, yeah it was. I thought no one would love me after that, but then I found Hop.”
”Did- Did he ever like touch you? Like, sexually, I guess,” Word vomit. As soon as I say it, I wish I could staple my mouth shut.
Mom pauses. Her eyes meet mine and I look away awkwardly.
”Lonnie? No, no he was an asshole, but he never did that. Never tried. Whenever we had sex it was fully consensual,” There’s a beat of silence. My heart beats tenfold. “Did your boyfriend ever…?”
You practically begged me to fuck you.
The lump returns to my throat. I was asking for it. I should’ve just been a better boyfriend.
No one will believe you. No one will believe you. No one will believe you. No one will believe you.
”I- Of course not! He’s not that bad. This is all just a misunderstanding,” I force my mouth to smile. My eyes play along and try to look as comfortable as possible.
”Will,” Mom takes a firm hold of my hand. The grip is almost jarring. It’s comforting though. “He hurt you. This guy - Tyler or whatever-“
My breathing quickens as I hear his name. Tyler. I see his face again. It’s clouding my vision. His eyes are beating into me. Tyler.
”Will! Sweetheart, breathe,” Mom’s expression is concerned, but not panicky. “Breathe with me. In… hold… out… That’s it, keep going. In… hold… out…”
”He- I- That-“ No matter what I try to say, no words will form. Only quick, panicked noises. Syllables and fragments of words.
Mom holds me tighter.
”It’s okay. I’m here.”
“Physically,” The doctor begins speaking. He’s reading off a clipboard with a pair of bifocals on. “You’re in much better condition. You managed to stand on your own without any major backslides. You haven’t really eaten all too well, but that’s alright. It’s understandable given… what happened.
”Anyways, we are still concerned about your mental state. After going through something like what you went through, it’s common to have a lot of negative feelings. We seriously recommend visiting our therapist, Miss Bianca Scotts. If that all goes well, you should be out of here in a week,” He gives one of those tired, half-assed smiles.
”No,” I shake my head. “I’m not going to therapy. I don’t need therapy. I’m fine.”
My restraints are undone by this point, so I’m sitting towards the end of my bed with Mom next to me and Jonathan, who just arrived with dinner, in a chair to my right.
”William, we are required to make you at least go to therapy three times before you can be let out of here. Once for the therapist to get to know you, and the other two to help you recover,” He puts his ballpoint pen on his clipboard.
”I don’t need therapy!”
”Will,” Jonathan speaks. “You need to talk to someone about this. You need professional help. You- You could’ve died back there. If it was may worse,” He cuts himself off and rolls his lips in and looks away.
My mouth goes sour. It hurts to see everyone so upset over me.
”Fine, I’ll go, but only if you or Mom go with me. Please,” My voice can’t be much more than a whisper. I’m so exhausted. I just want things back to the way they were.
”Thank you, William,” The doctor smiles at me. It makes me wanna crawl out of my skin. “You folks enjoy your dinner!”
And with that the doctor finally leaves. Thank God.
”Alright, let’s dig in!” Jonathan claps his hands together as he stands to begin handing food out.
We got Chinese takeout which is much better than hospital food. I got shrimp lo mein, Jonathan got some sort of spicy chicken thing, and Mom got mapo tofu.
The three of us fell into a comfortable silence as we ate. I haven’t had much of an appetite for the past few months, but I manage to eat almost all of my noodles.
This is peaceful, comfortable.
”So,” Jonathan begins talking.
”Not with your mouth full,” Mom cuts him off. “That’s gross.”
”I don’t know,” Jonathan murmurs as he swallows his food. “Will seems to like sea food.” And he shows chewed up remnants of food in his mouth.
”Ew! Jonathan!” My face wrinkles in on itself.
We all laugh together. Just like when I was little.
”So, how about you and Michael?” Jonathan asks with a raised eyebrow.
I roll my eyes back at him, “What about us? We’re friends.”
“Mhm, because all friends look at each other and begin blushing and kicking their feet like tweens.”
”Jonathan!” I throw a pillow at him. It sends a piece of chicken onto his shirt, and I can’t help but laugh.
He throws the piece of chicken at me and it hits me square in the forehead.
”I just want a wedding invite,” He says with a shrug, so nonchalantly.
”Jonathan, I swear!”