Chapter Seventy-Three: "The Nightmare Triggers."
"SO THAT'S KINDA WHY my mom and I have a rough relationship," I explain to Landon after sobbing for a few minutes. "I can't really blame her, I guess. I mean, I'd be pretty pissed off too if I were to wake up from a coma after half a year only to have my only child be arrested that same day."
"I understand it was traumatic for everyone, but did your mom not realize why you did it? She obviously knew, right?"
"She knew I was dealing, she didn't know about me and the houses," I say. "She thought I was doing some more illegal stuff because I had nobody to boss me around and tell me else wise."
"She didn't know?"
"No," I whisper. "She knew that someone was paying for the bill anonymously, but not that it was her own daughter doing illegal and deadly shit with a gang in order to do so."
"Does she know now?"
"Yeah," I nod stiffly. "It didn't fix our relationship in any way because she needed to know how I got so much money. Looking back now, I'd rather do all that againâthe crimes and stuffâthan have what happened during the year and a half I was in prison."
"Was it bad?" Landon asks softly. "The things you did? Like, was anyone hurt?"
"Yes," I nod. "But none of the injuries were because of me. I thought I killed the guy I punched in the nose, but it turned out he face-planted on his way to the hospital and killed himself accidentally."
"But you didn't?"
"Sometimes I still blame myself," I whisper, ignoring him unknowingly and unintentionally. Usually when I think of the past, I zone out. "That if I didn't punch him in the first place, then he wouldn't have gone to the hospital and died. But then I tell myself that I did it because I was defending myself, not that I did it to do it."
"Oh, darling," he murmurs.
"So then I went to prison," I start again. "I was fine. I didn't talk to anyone. I stayed to myself and ended up making acquaintances with other girls. I survived somehow until I got released after eighteen months, way early in regards to when I was supposed to be out. 'Good behaviour', they told me. I didn't believe it, because I mean, who lets a fifteen year old drug dealer and abuser out on 'good behaviour'? They were releasing a lot of prisoners so I'm sure they only let me out because they needed room for more dangerous women. Anyway, I got out twenty-two months earlier than even being trialled and it took my parents by surprise. So surprised that my mom didn't even let me come home... she made me stay with my aunt in Tennesseeâthat's how I know so much about horses; I had to do a lot with the animals, but never chores. My dad forced her to let me come home after being away for almost a month.
"So I came home... tried to go back to normal but everything was changed. My parents didn't talk about the accident, they just acted like it never happened, even though they have the scars to prove else wise. My dad even went back to work, for crying out loud! Months after the accident and he's back playing pilot. My mom went back to work, going overseas and everything. Nobody talked, and I think I really needed to have that conversation with them, because while they were so upset and angry with my decisions, my feelings weren't even considered.
"Not to mention that I had a reputation at school and I was a target of society and became bullied because of my actions. Those who praised me before either turned on me or just gave me shy smiles, and those who didn't either attacked me on social media or in person. I was suffering from PTSD at that time so I needed to watch for any signs of trigger points and relapse, but I was becoming more and more depressed and as a result, stopped eating. I took appetite suppressants to lose weight, and developed severe anorexia. I never went to rehab for it; I just got put on antidepressants and given medication for my eating disorder."
"Why didn't you go to rehab?" Landon whispers, wiping away my tears before pulling some hair that fell over my face.
I shrug. "I didn't tell anyone to make me go," I murmur. "Justin and Lacey found out and I threatened them to keep quiet, and that was that. My parents... they didn't even know I took pills to stay 'full' and such. I went to the doctor on my own and got my cousin to sign off for the anorexia stuff. To this day, all they know still is that I take antidepressants. Well, that I'm not taking them that often. Which brings me to my next pointâ"
"You don't have to continue, darling," Landon interrupts me softly.
"You know how I would scream for the first several weeks?" I ask him.
He nods, a sad look in his eyes as he recalls the first awful weeks I spent in Canada. "Yeah, one of us always stayed until you fell asleep again."
I nod slowly. "Yeah... well, when I went to prison for the obstruction and underage drinking and public stuff, I had these gang members approach me, and well..."
FLASHBACK TO THAT NIGHT
"Hey!"
I turn my head to above my cubicle, looking up at one of the women of the group, seeing her with a more-nice-than-usual smile on her face. I look at her warily at first, before turning my face stoic. "Uh, yes?" I whisper back, wondering why Cathy, the sex offender, is bothering me right now, at 2:00 a.m. Maybe Emily, the murderer and leader of our small group, wants to discuss details about the shipment coming in at 7:00 a.m.?
"We need you to go talk to Reynolds. He's the guard for the East Wing tonight, we need you to talk to him about where we're putting the stash."
Already knowing what she's talking about, I nod my head and put my book mark in my novel, placing it down on my bed and standing up. "For when?"
"Preferably now." She replies.
"Emily already went through the details," I say. "Why now?"
"Just come now!" She hisses, physically coming to my cubicle, easily un-disturbing my sleeping roommate, and dragging me out of bed. I couldn't sleep, but now I guess I have no choice to try to.
"Ow!" I yelp as she grabs hold of my hair when she yanks my shoulder. Why is she being so rough?
After sneaking past the guard, Cathy drags me over to the other side of the area where the storage rooms are and shoves me through after one of the guards grants us access.
"Cathy, what's going on?" I ask, panic rising in my chest when the guard follows. They never follow, even if they're involved in illegal prison action.
Something is wrong, Brooklyn, my mind tells me.
When we walk through another set of doors, I widen my eyes when I see all girls, Emily, and Bethany the Drug Dealer/street fighter, and another guard, and the one that followed us.
"Emily?" I question. "Whatâ"
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" She snarls at me in reply, instantly cutting my question short.
"What?" I ask, seriously having no clue what is happening.
"Don't play dumb," she growls, stepping closer. "You know exactly what you did."
"What are you talking about?" I exclaim, my panic getting worse. Oh God, I just pissed off the murderer I befriended. "I didn't do anything!"
"Bullshit!" She yells, and throws her hand at me, hitting my jaw and causing me to fall to the floor, pain immediately commencing. "You think you can steal from me? From your own leader? You think you can go around, talking shit about how we're weak, skimpy, fake gay sluts? Well here's something you little piece of trailer trash, if you want slutting, that's exactly what you'll receive!"
I widen my eyes, fear settling in and I start to thrash against Cathy's hold on me as soon as I dropped. "I-I-I don't know what you're talking about! I never said anything like that about you guys, and I certainly haven't stolen shipments! That's ludicrous and stupid."
Emily laughs coldly, coming up to me and I slam my eyes shut when she bends down and reaches her hand out, expecting another hit but instead her hand touches my cheek, stroking it before running her fingers over my lips.
Oh, gross!
"What's stupid is you thinking I wouldn't find out," she whispers. "Your little friend told me everything, darling, and you're going to pay for your awful service."
"Emily," I plead, "I didn't do anything, I promise!"
"Don't care, Brooklyn. You fucked with my business."
I gulp.
"Now," she murmurs, biting her own lips, making my stomach churn. "Would you like your main course first, or the dessert?"
I don't answer, and instead pull my face away from her slimy hands, trying to move as far away from her as possible.
She laughs again, standing up and backing away after calling the guards over. "Main course it is!"
I didn't notice it before, but now I did.
The two guards are ones I've been told have had sexual encounters with fellow inmates. Without consent.
When I realize what my fate is, I start thrashing, moving my limbs and kicking and screaming for them to stop. No, no, this can't be happening! Not again!
"No! Please, please don't do this, I didn't do anything!" I gasp out as the taller man approaches. Of course, neither are that ugly, but I'm not in any way going to do this without a fight. I'm going to die in here, and I don't want to go down this way.
"Maybe you'll think twice about fucking with me, Brooklyn," Emily growls as she watches in awe and delight as the two men surround me, already unbuckling their belts and ripping my scrubs.
Tears are already pouring out of my eyes as I beg over and over for them to stop.
But neither do.
By the end, I lay half-dead, broken and beaten, naked, and scarred for the rest of my life.
All because of some presumptuous bitch. Who will pay for her wrongdoings and my mentalityâif I don't die first.
FLASHBACK ENDS
"I was raped, beaten afterwards, and left for dead," I whisper as heavy sobs escape my throat. "They took my dignity, my strength, my soul, my virginity... again."
Landon's eyes are wide, staring at me as pure anger and sadness fill his features, making me close my eyes to avoid seeing him look at me with pity.
"Again?" He rasps in horror.
"First time was my first time in prison. It happened the same way, just the girls weren't friends, they were only acquaintances."
"Good God, baby," he murmurs.
"I was hospitalized for over a week," I trail off. "I came back with a broken arm and black eye. My first thought for my return was to confront the girl who ruined my life. When I found her, I just beat her to a pulp, to the point that... well, that was my third week there and I needed to stay an extra two weeks because of my violence, but let's just say that for the additional three weeks after the storage room incident, she never came back."
"Did you..." Landon trails, and I already know what he's asking so I cut him short.
"Close," I mutter. "Last I checked with one of the better friends I made there, she told me that Marissa, the girl I beat, didn't come back to the ward until a week after I got out. She had fractured ribs, a broken nose, a severe concussion, and I broke three of her fingers. She lived, but apparently she had small spiderweb fractures to the skull after I pounded it into the floor a few times. My friend said if I didn't stop, I would have shattered it."
"Wow," he breathes. "I didn't peg you for violence."
I chuckle forcefully, opening my eyes. I scan his face, seeing some lightheartedness in his eyes but still having a sad undertone. "I guess this story changed your perspective?" I ask nervously.
Landon immediately shakes his head. "No, not at all," he whispers reassuringly. "I see you as only stronger," he says. "You did what you thought you had to do to survive. There's nothing wrong with that."
"But you must be disgusted by me. Having done the deed twice? I'm dirtâ"
"No." He interrupts. "You're not, so don't say that again. You didn't ask for it, it isn't your fault. You're anything but dirty, Brooklyn, and I'll spend the rest of your life showing you how clean and pure you are."
I shake my head, touched by his words and shaken at how much care and love he is showing me. "It still haunts me," I blubber. "That's the main reason I'm still on antidepressants, and why I have nightmares. The nights of my days weren't too bad until that one time. It changed me and made me feel dirty and slutty and disgusting. I know I said was a virgin and that, but that was beforeâ"
"I know baby," Landon whispers, trailing a delicate finger down my cheek. "I understand why now."
"I'm sorry about Taylor, too," I add, knowing it's still a touchy subject and that he was anything but happy about the fact I went to him right after our breakup. "I shouldn't have done that to you, especially what happened."
"I know," he repeats. "I also know that you weren't in the right state of mind at all, either, so that helps me not think of killing the kid. I'm also very sorry. I shouldn't have put you on the spot like that and dumped you. It was stupid of me, I was scared; it was completely uncalled for and unethical."
I shake my head. "Don't worry about it."
"I'm still going to worry about it," he chuckles deeply.
I let out a hoarse laugh. "I'd take it back if I could. I'd choose you."
He smiles softly. "I know that too, but I also know that even after how wrongly I treated you, you still chose me."
"And I wouldn't have it any other way," I assure him, leaning in to press a deep kiss onto his lips. "I love you."
He pulls back before he kisses me again. "I love you," he mutters. "Thank you for telling me. I know how hard it must have been retelling that."
I nod. "I wanted you to know."
He nods, letting a silence pass over us while he traces circles and random lines down my back, making shivers run through my spine like a strong electric current. He turns his head sideways and sighs. "You should go to bed, Blue," he whispers. "It's nearly 3:00 in the morning."
I shrug. "Late practice."
He chuckles. "Seriously, baby, get some rest. You must be sore and drained from that story."
I nod instead of replying, knowing he's right. I'm definitely drained from retelling him my past in prison, but I'm glad I've finally gotten it all out. It feels good to know there's no secrets from my end of the line, and I know that there's still more to learn about Landon and such, but we're going to go one step at a time, which I am definitely okay with. I've done the rushing into things thing and to say it's not a favourite of mine would be a huge understatement; I mean look where it got me.
Sure it got me here in the end, which I'm happy for, but the shit I had to go through just to get to this moment is cracking.
I'm definitely sore as well; we kept going for a while once I got comfortable and to say that I was more flexible than expected would be spot on.
Landon pulls me closer to him, finally giving me the contact I've desperately craved since pulling away from him and positions me so my whole body is connected to his: head on chest, legs intertwined, arms wrapped together.
All in a naked sprawl and I wouldn't have it any other way.