Dissonance (44 page)

I felt fucking sick. I wanted to find that asshole father of theirs and fucking kill him myself. But worse than the anger that was choking me, was the knowledge that this was only the beginning.

“It hurt, but he hadn’t managed to get all that much force behind it. He was too drunk to do much damage,” she back-peddled. It did nothing to calm the firestorm inside of me. No one should ever raise a fucking hand to a little girl. “Mom lost it. She started screaming at him, telling him to get his drunk ass out or she was going to call the police. He already had a record. I didn’t know that until years later, but he had been arrested for assault and disorderly conduct before. He had pled guilty and they let him go on parole. He still had a few months to go when it happened, so he knew he’d be in jail if she made that call.

“So, he left. He packed all his things and was gone by the time Eli came back the next day. I think Mom agreed not to tell Eli, not just because I had been so hysterical, but because she knew he would never be able to accept that it happened after he left. He had been so hesitant to leave in the first place. I’m still glad he doesn’t know. He went through such a hard time afterward, he didn’t need it to be any worse.”

Eli would be destroyed if he knew, but I didn’t agree that she should continue to keep it from him. He had been worried for so long, he had been so concerned about the fact that Charlotte had always been so closed off. He loved her, and he deserved to know why she had been so withdrawn so young.

“The next few years weren’t great. Eli was getting into all kinds of trouble. Mom and I spent so much time worrying about him. Then, Mom got sick. It was hard, watching her get thinner and paler every day, until she was so weak that she couldn’t do a thing on her own. Eli had started working two jobs to pay for everything, so I was the one who took care of her. Eli tried to work mostly nights so that one of us was home with her as much as possible.

“When we lost her, things got bad. Eli was running himself ragged trying to pay for her funeral and the medical bills we still had. Having to make the payments to doctors that did almost nothing for her had him frustrated all the time. We had to deal with all sorts of legal issues to make him my guardian, but luckily we got a caseworker that was behind us, so most of it was just formalities. Eli was so tapped out though, and I felt horrible that I not only couldn’t help more, but I was making his burden bigger. He had gone from being a normal 20-year-old to having to be a legal guardian in just a few months.

“I tried to make it as easy on him as I could. I tried so hard to just be a good student, to keep the house clean and to learn to cook, anything to take some of the burden off of him. He would get so mad, though. He hated that I wasn’t more emotional. He hated that I just kept moving forward, but I was doing it all for him. I missed Mom every day. I still miss her, but I could deal with that alone.

“We got by that way for a while. Just the two of us, each doing what we could to help the other. I didn’t have many friends. The ones I did have were just people I had classes with. I never talked to any of them about anything besides homework, and I never talked to any of them after school ended. Then, I met Derek.”

She stopped there, and I knew we were finally at the cusp of the darkest part of the story. Derek’s name was not one I had forgotten since I had first heard it from Eli. Hearing the quiver in Charlotte’s voice when she said it had me desperate to tell her to stop, I wanted to tell her that she didn’t need to relive all of this for my sake. The only thing that stopped me was the knowledge that she needed this. To move past what happened and have a future with me, she needed to exorcise these demons.

Charlotte’s head turned towards the windows when a low rumble of thunder echoed in the silent room. A gentle patter of rain followed soon after. The weather was warmer than normal, promising a wet Christmas instead of a white one. Like some spellbinding force drew her to it, she stood and walked slowly to the window, never saying a word or looking back my way.

After a few minutes of staring out at the steady shower, she finally spoke. “Can we go out on the balcony?”

My first thought was to tell her it was raining, but I shut my mouth around that stupid remark. “Why?”

“I just… the rain is comforting to me. I know it doesn’t make sense, but–”

She didn’t need to say another thing. “Of course we can.” If it made her more comfortable, we could do whatever the hell she wanted. Anything to keep her talking to me. Anything to give us our second chance.

The slight chill that settled over my skin, the scattered staccato sounds of drops hitting the railing in front of us, that singularly unique scent that permeates the air each time it rains, they were all helping to calm me, just as they had for a long time. What shocked me though, was that not one of those calmed me half as much as Logan softly caressing my arm while he waited for me to speak.

The balcony was covered, so we were able to stay dry as we sat in the matching adirondack chairs. I knew that didn't matter to him, though. Logan would have sat out there in the pouring rain all night if he had to. It was time to face my greatest fear.

“I’m not sure what compelled Derek to start talking to me. He was a senior, I was a junior. We had no classes together, no mutual friends. Sometimes I wonder if he could sense that I was… if he knew…” I had wondered for a long time if he knew from the first time he spoke to me that I was weak. I wondered if from that first meeting, he knew that I could be broken.

Logan did not say anything. He did not ask for clarification when I never finished that thought. I knew it was killing him to keep quiet. I could feel the tension and ferocity rolling off of him when I told him what my father had done. He was working so hard to keep his words bottled up, and while I hated forcing him to do that, I loved him for it.

“Anyway,” I continued, forcing myself to go on, “he just started talking to me one day. I had been wearing an Alkaline Trio t-shirt. Eli had managed to get a little extra cash and take us to one of their shows. He’d surprised me by getting the shirt while he said he was grabbing a drink. Derek walked up to me in the hall one afternoon and started talking about the shirt, the band, how they performed live. Usually, I would have acknowledged his first comment about the shirt, then excused myself. I was still so excited about it, though. So, Derek got the in he needed.

“After that, he started hanging around, talking about whatever he seemed to think would entice me into a conversation. At first, it sort of made me uncomfortable. Maybe I should have listened to that feeling, I don’t know. It didn’t seem odd, since I usually felt that way around people I didn’t know well. For the most part, other people just sort of left me alone, so I guess I was just curious as to why he kept hanging around.

“A few weeks passed like that, and I got used to him being at my locker throughout the day, expected it even. Then one day, he asked me out. By that point, I considered him a friend. He was attractive and I felt comfortable with him, so while I was a bit hesitant, I said yes. The first few dates were great. He was really sweet, and I wasn’t used to really getting attention from someone like that. He told me he wanted to make things exclusive between us, for me to be his girlfriend. I agreed, feeling great about it. Then, things started to change.

“He was out at parties a lot. He hadn’t made a secret of the fact that he drank socially or would experiment with drugs in the right situation, so I didn’t mind that he went. I wasn’t comfortable going with him, though. It wasn’t the substances that worried me, just that I wasn’t sure about being in crowded house parties with strangers. At first, Derek just tried to coax me into going. Then, he was asking me constantly, complaining that I didn’t want to spend time with him. It never occurred to me to tell him that if he wanted us to spend time together, he could stop going to those parties all the time. I guess I didn’t think it was my place to make requests of him. He reinforced that idea. He would make joking comments about how I was lucky that he noticed me, since I wouldn’t draw attention on my own. They didn’t feel wrong at the time, they didn’t hurt me. It felt like he was just being realistic. I was quiet, and I usually did try to avoid bringing attention to myself.

“Before long, though, the comments became harsher and his coaxing turned into demands. He would tell me I should be grateful to him for picking me and that I should show my gratitude by going out when he told me to. I was dragged to parties with him, despite how awkward I felt there. He would drink heavily and use all night. When I told him I didn’t want to do those things with him, he called me an ungrateful bitch, said that I needed to learn how to lighten up and have fun or even he wouldn’t want me. He said I would end up alone if he left me, and by that point, I had begun believing him.

“I started grabbing drinks then. I never drank more than a cup, but I would disappear every so often pretending to refill it. He started being sweet again then, so I thought he really just had been trying to get me to loosen up and have a good time. At least, until the next sort of demands started."

I paused there. The next part was not going to come easily. I had been trying to keep myself emotionally removed during the first part of the story, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to much longer.

“He started pressuring me to move things forward… physically. I wasn’t ready, but he was tired of waiting. He had experience and a certain expectation of what me being his girlfriend meant. When I didn’t initiate, he did. He would tell me my trepidation was normal, but if I just went for it, it would go away. He would complain about it constantly, how he had needs and it was my job to fulfill them. He would say I was being frigid, and I had better get used to sex, because he was the only man that would ever wait around for me to ‘get the fuck over my issues.’ Eventually, I was just tired of him constantly making me feel terrible for not doing it. I let him touch me how he wanted, and then he would make me use my hands to get him off. When he got tired of that, he took the problem into his own hands.

“We were alone one night, and he was drunk and horny. I started touching him, and he told me he was over just getting a hand-job. He grabbed the back of my neck hard, his fingers were digging in and it really hurt. He pushed my head down to his lap, and kept gripping me harder until I took him in my mouth. He thrust into my mouth deeper than I could handle. I was gagging and I couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t let up until he was done. Afterwards, he told me I needed to work on it. I felt disgusting. I spent the night getting sick, trying to get the vile feeling out. It didn’t matter, though. He had already convinced me that I was the vile one, that the way he treated me was all that I deserved.

“I gave up my virginity to him the same way. I was just so tired of him putting me down because I wouldn’t. I’m not proud of it, but I let him do it even though I was not ready. It was horrible. I wasn’t… aroused, at all. It hurt so badly. When I realized it was not going to get any better, I started staring out the window. It was raining that night. I focused on the rain, trying to guess how many raindrops I was seeing, trying to imagine what it would feel like to stand out in that rain.” I stood, reaching my hand out into the drizzle that was falling around us. The water felt cold, sort of tickling my hand as tiny droplets landed. “Rain wouldn’t hurt.”

I sat back down, making sure to avoid looking at Logan. I wasn’t ready to see how he reacted to knowing how I had just given up my dignity because I was too weak to defend it was not something I was proud of, but having to admit to Logan how I had allowed myself to be treated made me feel even more shameful.

“We went on that way for a long time. Anytime I tried to pull back, or tried to deny him sex, he would berate me and break me down until I gave in. He did whatever he wanted, including sleep with other people, because he knew I was too pathetic to stand up to him. Then, when I went to a party with him and he slept with another girl while I was there, I tried to tell him I was done. I finally spoke up to him, told him I wasn’t going to sit by and let him keep treating me that way. He led me into a bedroom at the party, gripping my wrist so hard it left an handprint for days. When he got me into the room, he shoved me back into the wall. My back hit hard, and all the breath flew out of me. He hit me again, in the stomach where it wouldn’t show, and told me I would never fucking question him again, especially not in front of his friends. Then, he left me there. It took a long time before I could move, the pain was so bad. By the time I got out of that room, he was already making out with some other girl. I was too afraid to do anything about it. I just sat in the corner, waiting for him to be finished and take me home, hoping the pain would stop.