This Girl Stripped (3 page)

“You can help me have an abortion.” The words pass through my lips as a whisper. I’m quiet, and meek. I’m broken, and I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from this. But, it’s what I need to do, so that I can eventually put my broken life back together.

Seven is supportive, and she comforts me with words of understanding. She doesn’t judge me for my choice, like so many in the world will. She takes my hands and says the words that I know will change my life and our relationship forever.

“You aren’t alone, Paisley. I am here with you every step of the way. I will never let you down and I will protect you like the little sister you are to me.”

When did I become so irresponsible to let my life become the shit that it is?

The days go by in a blur. In and out of Seven's doctor's office, blood tests, and ultrasounds. None of which I could bring myself to watch. Everyone involved could see my heartbreak; it was front and center for the world to witness. Now, I lay once again in the comfort of Seven's spare bed suffering through painful cramps. I’m bitter, broken, and really fucking angry. The more I think about everything that has happened, the madder I get.

I find myself wondering if this is part of the process? If not, I’m more fucked up than I originally imagined. You can't live through the things I’ve seen and not be hardened in some way. Seven has been wonderful, and her new husband Levi has been just as caring. But he’s still a stranger. I’m uncomfortable and I long for a place I can call my own. A genuine home. A place to set roots and recover from the nightmare that was born when I decided that spreading my wings and leaving Woodstock would actually be a bright idea.

Tomorrow we leave Manhattan for the long car ride back to the hippy town in upstate New York – Woodstock, where we all grew up. The ride is sure to be unpleasant since I still feel like I’ve been run over by a truck. Take the worst period you’ve ever had and magnify it by three billion. Then throw in the realization that you killed your baby. It’ll do wonders for your already broken soul. I’m bitter, I know. But I have no one to blame but myself for all of this.

I know I should cry, but I think my body can no longer produce the tears. Everything I’ve done in the past few months is against everything I’ve always believed in. I constantly put myself down in my mind. I’m by far my own worst critic while those who surround me continue to try and lift me out of this depression.

My cell phone buzzes under the covers. Digging for the phone, I see that Star is calling me. I've ignored dozens of her calls for the past weeks, I thought I was helping her but Seven continues to beg me to talk to my sister. I don't want to talk to her, or tell her anything. She has barely just gotten her shit together after being a hot mess for most of my life. On the other hand, I just can’t wait to see her, be with her and spend time together as a family for the first time in years. I can’t help but wonder if we could actually become a normal functioning family after all these years.

But the fact that she is a mother now after finally finding the daughter she had given away so long ago cements the fact that I can never tell her about the child I just got rid of like it was nothing more than a pimple I was popping for cosmetic relief.
Is that really how I feel? God I am such a fucking mess.

I just wish I had someone I could talk to. A girlfriend, a cousin, someone other than Seven to work out these feelings with. I shouldn’t have declined the therapy at the abortion clinic because I could really fucking use it now.

“Hello?” I answer the call. My voice is barely above a whisper because that is the only volume I’ve been able to muster in the past handful of days. I can hear noise in the background; pans clattering, a timer beeping, and my sister yelling at someone.

“My God, Paisley! You answered the fucking phone! It’s a miracle!” Her voice drips with sarcasm, something I’m just not up for dealing with. I’m sure if Star knew what I was going through she would be more caring, but all she knows is that I’ve been avoiding her for months and I’m camped out at her best friend’s apartment with no real reason why. I only wonder how much Seven has told her.

“Sorry, I haven't felt much like talking,” The line is quiet and I wait for her to reply. I can hear a door close as the noise of the madhouse she is living in fades into the distant background. I stare up at the ceiling, looking anywhere but at the mirror clad walls. Something I’ve been avoiding for days.

“You are coming with Seven and Levi tomorrow, right?” She’s nervous. I know she’s told Seven she wants me to come back to stay. Her best friend hasn't kept anything from me. Maybe this would be a good time to ask her if I could stay with her until I can find my own place? Get my life together, work on moving on.

“Yeah, I am. About that; I have a question for you, Star.” I may not have a real home, but being with my sister in Woodstock and getting to know my niece is the closest I’ll come to finding a genuine home.

“What's up, Paisley?” She’s concerned. Worried even. She masks it well. Seven does too. But, I‘ve been around both of them long enough to know that they are waiting for me to careen into the same shit Star began so many years ago.

“Can I stay with you for a while?” I can hear the excitement in her voice when she gushes her reply, raving about how excited she is to have me coming
home
and how I can stay as long as I want. I’ll finally be able to have a place to call my own. A bedroom with a door. Privacy without the intrusion of strangers. Something that’s been almost nonexistent most of my life.

I disconnect the call and will myself out of bed to tell Seven I’ll be packing up and not returning from Woodstock with them on Friday. I just hope that, for once in my life, I’m finally making the right choice.

I can hear a baby crying in the distance. The screams echo through my mind and I’m scrambling through the busy crowds on Daytona Beach looking for the source of the sound. I weave in between people, happy couples chugging bottles of beer - women laying out in their perfect bikinis barely covering their bodies, in between all the umbrellas and coolers.

Just as I want to give up, the cry stops.

“Looking for her?” his voice echoes through my body and makes me cringe. When I turn around, I can’t help but stare at his scar covered face. He is ugly in the bright daylight. His hair is greasy and thin. He is balding on top and his smile is disgusting. Everything about him makes me want to vomit.

“You left our baby, you disgusting little bitch.” His words are sharp and when I turn to run, my body jolts awake and I realize it was all just a dream.

No matter how hard I try to get away from him, he is everywhere. Now he’s invading my dreams, using the only good thing that could have ever come from a person like him against me.

Will I ever be rid of these memories?

Homecoming

We arrive in Woodstock in the early afternoon on Wednesday, after five long hours in the car. I’m hurting. My body aches everywhere and I rush to the bathroom as soon as the car comes to a stop in Star's gravel driveway. At first Star mistakes my burst through the front door for excitement until I barrel into the first empty bathroom I can find emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet. Levi force fed me dry toast, and yogurt earlier that morning.

I’d actually felt half way to being human before we got in the car. When I finally emerge from the bathroom, I have an audience. Seven and Levi stand at the island in the middle of the kitchen with our bags at their feet. Star is sitting on a bar stool holding her chin in her hands watching me like a hawk. Her hair is dark now. The blond locks are gone, replaced by a dark mahogany coloring, which actually doesn't look half bad on her. For the first time in a long time, she looks genuinely happy and I am insanely jealous.

“You okay?” Star asks me and I just nod my head.

“The car ride got to me. It was longer than I remembered.” I lie, which is starting to become second nature for me when it comes to dealing with the queen of liars, my big sister. But, I hate it. It turns my stomach the way I can so easily spin the web of deception. It’s not who I am.

Two men round the corner. Both are tall and instantly I’m intimidated. Without realizing it, I take a step backward. He’s massive - six foot something and a buzz cut. The motorcycle vest makes me want to run for the bathroom again. Memories of my assault flood back to me and I close my eyes while taking a deep breath. Bikers are all assholes. All bottom feeders. All rapists.

“Paisley, this is my boyfriend Chrome. Chrome, this is my sister Paisley.” I nod in his direction and wrap my arms around myself. “That over there is River, Chrome's little brother and a very good friend.” I swing my gaze to the shorter, younger man standing at the intimidating biker's side. His hair is jet black, standing on end, spiked up on the top of his head, and his plump bottom lip has a small ring in the corner. Their faces resemble each other. Strong square jaws, a distinct nose, but what catches my attention are his piercing green eyes. They belong on an animal, not a man.

Everything about him is beautiful. Men aren't supposed to be beautiful, but he is. Our eyes lock and we stare at each other for an awkward moment before I take a couple steps and reach for my bag.

“Do you think you can show me to whatever room I’m going to be staying in? I'm not feeling so hot.” Between the biker, the car ride and the hot guy, I need to fucking escape.

“Let me get that for you.” His hand lands on mine as I grip the handle of my bag. A chill spreads through my body as I pull my hand away from his.
Did he feel that?
From the way his intense eyes are watching me, I can only assume that he did.

“River, she’s in the room at the top of the stairs I’ve been working on.” He nods at Star and heads for the sprawling wooden staircase by the front door. It belongs in a movie and the way each etched detail has been refinished and brought back to life is stunning. Star really has done an amazing job with this place.

“There are two staircases in the house; this one, and another on the far side by the back door. Your room is at the top of this one to the left. She gave you
my
favorite room in the house.” He’s rambling Is he nervous?

I take one stair at a time, slowly climbing the steps. The cramps are almost unbearable and all I can think about is lying down. Finally I get to the top only to notice a set of worried green eyes watching me. He doesn't speak, just watches as I round the corner to the room.

“This one?” I ask and wait for a reply, but all he does is push the door open and set my bag inside.

The bedroom is huge. More than I ever imagined. The hard wood floors appear to be brand new, a cream colored area rug sits in the middle of the room half under the giant four post bed that looks like it belongs in a history book with a Queen sprawled out on it. The bedding is an eclectic mixture of coloring, all bright. Silk bandanas hang from the top corners of the bed, shielding two sides for privacy. I look and try to take all the details in. I wonder how Star could have put this all together in the day she knew I was coming to stay.

“She did a good job huh?” River's voice snaps me out of my daze. I’d forgotten he was standing there watching me take in all the details of the room. My new perfect room.