It's Not Who I Am!!

I couldn't help but smile.  "That's funny.  Because what does that mean?  Even if this hadn't been happening to me our ideas of fun still wouldn't be the same.  If this hadn't of happened to me and I still felt more comfortable being at home, being alone, doing quiet things and not being around crowds you would just think I was quiet and shy.  Maybe I would be completely different.  Maybe not.  But I don't have the luxury of knowing that.  And honestly?  I like who I am.  I think I'm a decent person with good values and simple, reasonable, ideas about life.  So bad things happened to me.  Sometimes I'm tortured by it.  Other times, I'm not.  It isn't something that you and I have to let rule us every time we get together."

"It's hard for me to forget."

"I know."   We were both quiet.  "I regret telling you for that reason.  How it makes you feel.  But I will promise you something if you take me for my word and trust me."

"I trust you."

"Good, then know this.  If there is a time that I can't deal with this, that I can not live with this, I'll let you know.  That's a promise I am willing to make with you.  If you will believe it.  I have never gotten to that point before. I don't see it happening.  If I need help I will ask for it."

"I want to believe that."

"Then do.  This isn't a soap opera.  It's my life.  Yes I have down times.  Who doesn't?  I've seen you when you aren't happy.  You don't act any different than when I'm not happy.  You get through it.  I get through it." She was quiet.   "I am so tired.  Just trust me Mary.  I'm not going to tell you about this and drag you into it then to just lie to you."

"I don't think you're lying to me.  I just hope you can recognize when you might need help, because you haven't.  Up until now."

"But that's your opinion.  I think I didn't tell because it would have been harder for me to deal with my parent's pain then it would be to deal with my own."  She shook her head in disbelief.  "I think that's my choice Mary.  I'm dealing with now, and now I am not telling my parents.  Now I'm safe.  I can say no.  I can be safe.  I don't know what I am going to do about this next week or next year.  But for now I have to do it this way."

"It certainly is your choice.  But I don't agree with it."

"You don't have to."

"I know".   She opened the car door and got out.  She leaned in.   "Just remember your promise."

"I will."   She closed the car door and I waited until she went in the front door and closed the door behind her.  I went home.  Mom and dad were in bed.  I turned off the porch light and locked the door behind me.  As quietly as I could I took a shower and went to my room.

The night was very cool and felt wonderfully clean as I opened the my bedroom window to let it in.  I sat in the dark and looked out the window.  Will I ever go through a day when I don't have to deal with this?  A day when I am so wrapped up in work or play that I don't analyze everything I think and feel.  Where everything I think and feel isn't about 'it' or influenced by 'it'.  What kind of day would that be?  When will that day be?  Mary struck a nerve talking about other kids he could be doing this to.  

He wasn't.   He couldn't be.  I was safe for him.  There wasn't a risk of me turning him in.  That had to be obvious to him after the first few times.  I wonder how scared he was?  Or was he at all?  Was he capable of feeling fear?  Or was that part of the excitement for him.  I shook my head as if I could shake the thoughts of him right out of my mind.  If only it were that simple.

It was so dark.  I felt so comfortable here.  Sitting on the floor where no one could see me but I could see out.  Not that there was anything to see.   It was just the idea of sitting here and looking out on this little part of the world and this little part of the world couldn't see me.  I turned my head to look at my room.  It was pretty dark but my eyes were adjusted to it.  Even without lights I knew every corner of it.  The books on the shelves, clothes in the drawers,  CD.s in their cases, the radio station on my alarm clock.  It was all where it needed to be for me.  I knew enough from Mary's mom's books and our talks that this could easily be an attempt at organizing my life in the only areas that I felt any control.  I knew that.  So what.  Whatever the reason, it made me feel better.   And there's no harm in that.

Crap.  I climbed up on my bed and carefully got under the covers.  There was no reason why I had to feel angry and frustrated.  So why did I?  The day with Shaun, Tim and Mary seemed so far away already.  The talk with Mary was pulsing in my head.  Or rather, the feeling from that talk.  WHy do I have to be responsible for what Doug does?  And why in the hell do I have to tell the world what happened to me?  Mary would love to see me go into a support group and tell my story a hundred times and listen to a thousand other stories.  That wasn't for me.  If ever I was to talk to anyone it would be one on one.  I couldn't stand the looks from people, the pity, the curiosity, the sadness.  No matter what Mary said, it would all be there.  I know.  I've done it myself when I hear of something terrible happening.  All the questions that go through your head.  I can completely imagine details, or pull them from my own memory.  But the questions still flash through people's heads.  No one can tell me different.

But the worst part.  I don't want anyone comparing me to everyone else.  There is not a "group" that I would belong to.  Because this happened to me, I am not like others who this happened to.  It's not a membership.  No one can know me because of this that happened to me.  It's not who I am!

Damnit Mary.  Why do you keep pushing this?  I felt my arms so tense by my sides.  Fists clenched.  Forehead drawn tight.  Slowly I made every effort to relax.  Loosen my hands.  Soften the death grip my forehead had on my eyebrows.  Again, like hundreds of times before I saw my parents as they discovered this.  I could see mom's face and dad's hands.  After yesterday I couldn't help but picture grandma too.  Mostly how I pictured their reactions depended on whether I was feeling secure or not in my life.  At least with mom and dad.  For some reason with grandma I always picture her protecting Doug.  Which made me think maybe she had some sordid secret of her own.  That wasn't fair of me, but still, I couldn't help but wonder.

With grandpa it was different.  I always imagined his reaction as the same.  But it was different than grandma's.  I pictured him getting mad, at Doug.  No fear or pity from grandpa.  Just anger.  One thing I quickly learned after Doug started...... it never happened at grandpa's house.  Even when I was younger and Doug still lived there and I was visiting.  Not once did he do anything there.  I don't think it had any thing to do with grandma.  I always figured it was because he was terrified of grandpa.  That's an image I created very young and hung on to all of these years.  Grandpa was not an intimidating man.  He was tall, lean, non-threatening physically.  At least to me.  Maybe it had something to do with grandpa saving Doug from his own family.  Who knows.  Who cares.

My neck was hurting.  I regretted not asking mom to check in to one of those neck pillows.  I need to do that.  Tomorrow.  What else do I have to do?  Put some money in the bank.  Did Mary say she wanted to do anything?  I couldn't remember.  I just want to sleep.  I don't want to think about what Mary said.  I closed my eyes.  Where did today go?  I only spent the last hour of it talking with Mary about this again.  So why don't the other eight hours stick out?  Shaun's party.  Shaun.  Encouraging me with looks and little nods of his head.  Like he was a coach.  Why did he feel he needed to do that.  I wonder if Mary told him.  He just acted like he knew something.  Why is it I can lie here and think about Doug without even trying to and I don't want to.

When I would rather think about, maybe Shaun, and I can't have one thought about him unless I drag it through all of this other muck.

I was tired of fighting the thoughts, tired of thinking.  Finally I slept.  

It's My Choice, Right or Wrong

"I think so."  She wasn't very chatty.  She leaned back in the seat.  "I wish I had more feelings for Tim."

She was quiet for a few seconds.   "I just think he's so nice.  And you know that word is very underrated in my book.  I can talk to him and I'm comfortable around him.  I just don't have strong feelings like he does."

"You can't help that Mary."

"I know, but that doesn't help.  I want to feel something for him.  I couldn't find anyone who is more perfect.  He treats me with....dignity.  You know how he is.  I don't ever feel bad when I'm with him.  Except for the guilt for not feeling the same way he does."

"You were honest with him.  You shouldn't feel guilty about that.  And you aren't using him.  That would be worse. I don't think you're someone  who is so insecure that you need to stay with someone just so you won't be alone.  You have to do what you think is right.  IF you didn't, both of you might miss out on something incredible down the road."  I felt bad for being upset with her.   She genuinely cares for Tim but can't fake feelings that are not there.   She's being honest.

"Yeah....but what if Tim is my incredible?  What if I am looking for something that won't happen, feelings that aren't real, that are just part of movies and bad books.  And then I miss this.  What if the real is that someone treats you decent, would do anything for you, someone you can be comfortable around just being your regular old self.  What if that is my incredible and I miss it?"

We were quiet, thinking about missing the incredible.  "I don't know for sure what you need to hear right now.  But I think you have to trust yourself.  If you don't feel this is the right thing, the incredible thing, then trust that.  And personally?  I think Tim will be fine.  He did okay tonight.  I think he can accept that you don't feel the same way he does.  Besides, I think we all have years to discover our 'incredible'."

She smiled.  "I don't know.  I think maybe you found yours."

"Shaun?"  I'm not sure what an octave is but I think my voice went up a couple of them.  "I've seen him twice. Once by chance and tonight.  I don't think that maps out my future."

"Maybe not, but you won't know if you don't let this have a chance.  Don't hide from it."  

I didn't want to get mad.  But her constant advising and counseling was aggravating as hell.   "Mary?  Let's not go there.  My entire future does not have to revolve around what happened to me.  And it doesn't have to be mapped out tonight."

She turned in her seat to look at my while I drove.   "Nicky I am not going anywhere.  This is a fact of your life.  And I can't help it if I 'go there'.  I worry about you and you know it.  I only worry so much because I  know what this can do to a person.  And you are denying that it is affecting you.  And yes, your entire future does revolve around what happened to you."

"I don't think I'm denying anything.  I can't forget what happened.  It's there and always will be.  But I am trying to get past it.  I don't need to remind myself of it.  And I know what it's done to me.  But I don't have to let it do anything more to me.  And when I do finally get a moment where it isn't screaming in my head at me? You bring it up."

"I don't think you are 'letting' it do anything to you.  There isn't an 'it' Nicky.  There is a person.  A cruel and sick person who is always going to be in and out of your life and you will pretend nothing is wrong.  You'll ignore it.  And you won't let those who should know.  So your world will always be affected by him.    And I bring it up, because it's there."

"I know what you're getting at.  But I don't see the point in telling my parents or grandparents.  It's over.  They can't change it.  The pain it would cause them would be senseless."

"What about you?  Where do you fit in?  You know your parents would support you. They wouldn't allow the bastard anywhere near you.  They would press charges.  Which is what should be done.  Who else has he done this to?  And what about your grandparents?  You can't stand going there because of the way they uphold his behavior.  Do you think they would support him over what he did to you?"

"Yes, grandma would.  And I don't think he's done this to anyone else."

"Oh Nicky".  She laid her head back in the seat and closed her eyes.  "Pardon the big words but that is disillusional on your part.  Why would you think he wouldn't do to someone else what he did to you for years?  And who is he hurting now, now that you've scared him?  Do you think he went away and is suddenly living a celibate, respectable life?  His sole purpose in life was only to do this to you?  This was all for him.  What he did he did for himself.  He didn't give a damn who it was.  Whatever his reasons he did this to satisfy himself and in the process control and control and control something.  It happened to be you.  But now that it's not you....it's somebody."

I wanted to scream....and every ounce of me was, inside.  "Don't you think I've thought of that?  I have.  Okay?   I have.  But I can't destroy my family I can't do this to my parents.  Do you have any idea what this would do to them?  The guilt they would feel?  The anguish they would live with for the rest of their lives?  I can NOT do that to them!"  I slammed my hand on the steering wheel.  "And don't tell me what I have to, or should, do.  This is ME."

She didn't respond immediately.   I wanted to look at her but didn't.  "Nicky I can't imagine what you're going through.  And I don't want you to think I'm preaching.  I just think that you ask yourself the same questions and you have some of the same thoughts I do.  And if this is what you are going through, and always will, what other little girl's life is now being destroyed?"  She hesitated.   "And I think you've decided your parents and grandparents can't handle this, unfairly.   They were, and still are, the adults."

"If I could do something Mary, I would."  I pictured a little girl, another little girl.  I didn't want to think of it because if I thought of it and agreed with Mary then aren't I as responsible for that little girl?  Then I pictured mom and dad.  I pictured telling them.  Like I had pictured telling them thousands of times over the years.  But I couldn't imagine their reaction.  Sometimes it was them coming to my rescue.  Sometimes it was them defending Doug.  Sometimes it was me being sent somewhere for 'help'.  Sometimes it was them not believing.  Sometimes there was nothing because I just couldn't conjure up this image.  I could not tell them.  I couldn't pretend it and I couldn't do it.  Some of the things I imagined bothered me more than not telling.  So I didn't tell.

"Mary I know this disappoints you.  But I can't tell them.  I can't.  I would like to think that this will go away.  I know you don't think it will.  But you can't tell me anything or preach anything to me that I haven't already told myself and beat myself up about.  I would like to think that I'm the only one he has done this to.  Part of me does believe that.  I have lived with this for my forever and I don't want to live with it anymore.  How am I ever going to get away from it if I tell my parents?  How will I ever live with the way they look at me and the way they feel?  How can I ruin their lives and then go about living?"

"How can you not tell them and live a lie?"

"I haven't lied to them.  I have protected them."

"It's not your job to protect them."  This time she slammed her hand down on the dashboard.  "It's their job to protect you!"

Her anger seemed wrong to me.  This was my anger.  "It's too late for that Mary and I can't change that.  They can't protect me now from what's already happened."  I pulled up in front of Mary's house.  I saw her mom look out the door, see it was us, wave and disappeared in to the house.  "God how did we get on this again?"

"Because it's never resolved."

I turned to her quickly.  "Resolved?  What kind of resolution do you want Mary?  I am glad, relieved, that Doug is gone.  It is OVER for me.  That is my resolution.  Do you want him hunted down and brought back so he can be confronted?  By who?  Me?  So I can relive it in all it's detail for my parents to hear?  For the world to hear?  So EVERYONE knows this about me?   The resolution you're talking about is to satisfy what YOU think would be resolved.   When I think it's MY decision."

Mary didn't budge.  She spoke quietly.  Without anger.  "Yes Nicky, that is what I want.  This isn't your shame.  It's his.  You should be free to be happy.  You shouldn't be carrying his guilt.  It's his.  All his.  I have known you my entire life.  I know what you've missed out on.  Maybe I didn't always know why or understand it.  But now I do.  It isn't right.  It's weird but all of our lives I always thought you seemed so old.  Older than me.  Older than our parents.  Maybe 'old' isn't even a good way to describe it.  But while the rest of us could laugh and be silly and enjoy the crazy in our lives you cringed at it.  You were apart from it.  And that's what is wrong here.  You are always going to be apart from us.  You will never let yourself belong because you feel that this is who you are.  Well, it isn't.  It is what was done to you."  Even softer.  "And yes, I do think everyone should hear what he did.  Because he should have to face the world looking at him, for what he did.  So you stop thinking the world is looking at you because of what was done."

Equally quiet, from me.   "All that may be true.  But right now this is how I am.  You aren't telling me anything I don't already know about myself.  There is no one who will ever be able to dissect every feeling I have better than I can myself.  But this is my comfort zone right now.  Do you remember in psychology when we talked about boundaries?   Personal boundaries?"

"Yep."

"Well I am very aware of my boundaries and they are right where I need them to be.  It's a comfort to discover things that help me realize what I am feeling and dealing with are normal.  Normal for what happened in my life.  You can not expect me to deal with this the way YOU feel is right for me.  Maybe someday I will talk to someone.  And maybe not.  But that is for me to decide and not you or anyone else."

She was very quiet.  We had locked on to each other's eyes.  Neither of us wanted to 'give'.  "I don't want to decide anything for you.  I am not that comfortable with this either.  I don't like not telling my mom, and I feel guilty knowing this when your parents don't.  I just want you to be happy Nicky."

Party To Sleep

"What time is it?"  We all looked at our watches.  New watches.

"Five fifteen."  In the morning?  I couldn't believe it.  I am very much off my schedule.  And I feel great.  Tired but relaxed.

"We can leave at six can't we?"  Mary wasn't having as much fun.  Or she felt bad about her and Tim.  

"I think so.  Do you guys want to go out to breakfast?"  Tim looked eagerly at all of us.  

Before I could answer Mary did.  "I am so tired you guys.  I want to go to bed."  She looked apologetic but...

"Sure" nice.  Uncomfortable pause.  "But I am hungry.  I'll be back."

"I'll go with you."  Shaun went with Tim.

"Are you mad about something Mary?"

She tried to look fake surprised.   "Me?"

"Yes.  You.   What's wrong?"

She slumped on to the table and talked in to the table cloth.  "I am just very tired and want to go to bed."  If she didn't want to tell me I wasn't going to demand her to.    "I just feel uncomfortable."   Still, to the table cloth.

"About what?"

"With Tim and everything."  We aren't really seeing each other now."

"So I heard."

"From who?"  She turned her head so she was looking up, with the side of her head on the table.

"Tim."

"I just don't want him to think this is serious.  I'd rather tell him now and not just go along with it so I don't hurt his feelings."

"He really likes you Mary.  His feelings will hurt."

"I know that.  And I like him.  But that's all.  Like...nothing more.  I don't want to hurt him Nicky.  That's what makes this worse. If he got mad or I didn't like him because he was a jerk or something.  But he isn't.  He is so ...gentle, sweet."   She left her head lying on the table.   Looking at me.

"Then let him be okay with this.  Don't be miserable about it.  He'll be okay.  You can be friends.  It isn't like you've been serious."

"I haven't but I think he was."

"Well...yeah, but I mean you haven't .... you know"   I really don't want to know this "done anything."

She closed her eyes.  "No.  Nicky.  We haven't."

"It'll be alright Mary.  We do you have to be uncomfortable around him.  That would make it worse on him."

"I know.  Maybe after I get some sleep I'll be alright."

Tim and Shaun came back to the table carrying a load of donuts and bagels.  We gorged.  Even Mary ate.  Mary wasn't the only one getting tired.  There were heads lying on tables and hanging back all over the room. The music in the corner was still playing.  But it was soft.  Slow music.  There were some die hards still dancing.

"Anybody have any big plans today?"  I felt like talking, even with my mouth full.

"Bed."  Mary had only one focus.

"Dinner with my grandparents."

"My family is having a graduation party for me.  You are guys are all welcome to come over."  Shaun was looking right at me.  

"Another party?"   I was liking the idea of bed.

"Sure, how often do you graduate from high school?"

"Don't you have to sleep?"

"I promised mom and dad I would come right home from here and go to sleep.  They really put a lot of work in to this so I figured I better let them..  Would you come over?"

Mary and Tim were both trying to make it look like they weren't watching me.  "Yes.  I would.  But I can't promise.  What time?"

"Since it's Sunday it's an early party.  We're starting about three."

"I'll try."  It felt good that Shaun looked pleased.   Maybe even excited.  But it felt scary too.  We sat quietly looking at everyone else around the gym.  It didn't look like anyone had left early.  And though I was tired and this was suppose to be the end of my high school experience I felt as if it was the first high school experience I had.  

Why is it, tonight, that I feel young.   For so long I didn't know what young felt like.   It feels like this?  It feels good.

There was a quietness, a hush, over all of us.  Everyone seemed to be aware of what this was.  It would be the last time that this group of people would ever be together like this.  Young.  Excited.  With unknown and undreamed of lives in front of us.

There was a group of girls on the dance floor in a big hug.  They were crying.  They were familiar faces.  But unknown people, to me.  Could I have been one of them?  I watched them.  I looked at others who watched them and I could see sad faces.  Faces that smiled.  Either because they looked silly out there sobbing or because they felt something kindred to those girls.  I glanced at Mary who's face was propped up on her hands, but she was looking at everyone else also.  Tim was looking at Mary.  Shaun was looking around the gym.

The song ended and the DJ announced he was playing the last song.  Of course it was "Auld Lang Syne."  Many couples got up to dance.  Many turned their chairs to watch, listen, sing under their breaths.  Mary got up and took Tim's hand and they went to dance.  I didn't want to dance.  Not to this.  It didn't feel right.  Shaun either didn't want to dance either or got a good feeling from me that I didn't want to.  He slid his chair right next to me and rested his elbows on his knees and his face in hands.  Watching.  Part of me wanted to reach out and caress the hair just touching the nape of his neck.  Part of me squirmed at the thought of doing such a thing.

The song ended.  Everyone stood or sat completely still for a brief moment.  Then someone flipped on the over head lights and nearly blinded us all.   Then everyone cheered.  We were now ready to be adults.  Or the so the world told us.  First, I think most of us wanted to go to bed.

Mary and TIm returned.  We all gathered our pictures, jackets, ties, purses.   Everyone made their way out to the cool air of the morning.  Tables were set up to hand back our car keys by alphabet.  Find your last name letter, get your keys back.  There were also little gift bags for each of us with mementos emblemazed with our school mascot, our year of graduation.  Nice.

Shaun walked us to my car.  "I hope you can come to my party."

Tim and Mary quickly got in my car.  They were so obvious.  "I'll try Shaun.  But I'm not sure what my parents have planned."

He hung his head a little and stared at his shoe, or mine.  "I'm glad I finally got to talk to you Nicky."

"Me too."  What do I say!  For crying out loud why can't I say something.....smart!  He stood there and stared at me.  A little unnerving I must say.  

"Well....okay.  Maybe I'll see you at my house then."  It was a statement not a question.  I smiled.  He smiled.  He backed away from the car.  I got in and he closed my door.  As we pulled away Mary and Tim started singing "kiss the girl" from "The Little Mermaid" and then Mary moaned.  Then Tim moaned.  

"What is wrong with you two?"

"Nicky that poor guy wanted to kiss you and you just blew him off."   Mary shook her head.

"He did not."  I looked at Tim in the rearview mirror for confirmation of this.  He shook his head yes.  "Yeah, he did."  I stared at Tim like he was a traitor.  "Sorry" and he shrugged his shoulders.  I was not going there with them.  Not right now.  I was too tired.  We chatted aimlessly until we dropped Tim off.  Then Mary tried to talk about Shaun, and I wanted to talk about Tim, but we were both too tired to really talk about either.  We agreed we really didn't need to talk right now at all.  Maybe later.  I dropped Mary off and went home.  Took a shower.  Went to bed.  I knew mom or dad, or both, were awake in their room.  But I was too tired and they didn't come out to ask so I didn't go in to tell them about the night.  It would also wait.

I lie in my bed with my covers neatly around me.  I stared at my familiar ceiling.  This night.  What have I done with my life?  Why did I wait until tonight to let something make me feel good?  I thought over the entire evening.  I felt comfortable with people I did not know very well.  How was this possible when I am not even comfortable with people I know?  I thought of the hug I gave Tim and Emmit.  WHere did that come from?  I don't even like hugging my parents.  All of the faces and the stories from the night swam through my head while I slept.

I think I slept.   

What Am I?

"I guess I have been kind of a hermit lately, but I've been working on a lot of stuff lately."  I can't believe they can't see!  I hope they can't see.  I looked across the street so I wasn't looking at them, I was afraid they would see.   I was trying to look at them, to see if they were looking at me.  Didn't I look different?

"What do you get to do on the paper this year?  You never did say."  Mom seemed kind of quiet, just sitting there with a funny look-looking at me.  Was she scrutinizing me like I was scrutinizing them?  I want to go to my room.  Close the door.  Be alone.   Forever.

It's safer.

But I had to exist with this.   "One of the assistant editors from last year got student editor this year, but I'm the assistant editor for this year."

"The assistant?  That's pretty good isn't it?"  Dad was always one to feel proud about accomplishments.  I couldn't help but give him a real smile.

"That is pretty good dad.  But it would have been better if I wasn't the only one who wanted it.  Doesn't make  for a great victory if there are no opponents."

He laughed but pointed out that taking on more responsibility is a great accomplishment.  His positive nature was contagious. It did feel good.  Mom even let go of that silly look on her face.  We sat quietly, which seemed to fit mine and mom's mood.  Not that I knew what her mood was.  I just knew something was not quite right with her.  Dad always seemed content with what ever he was doing.  I kind of envied that.  I don't know that I would know what content felt like.  I had the glider moving slow and steady.  Mom and dad were swinging just as slow.  For such a nice evening it sure was crappy.  I looked down the street.  It seemed like a tunnel.  Just going.

I can't believe I didn't say those three words years ago.

It was getting dark, and kind of cold.  But it felt good...not good.  I don't know how it felt.

Without speaking mom and dad got up and went inside, they both caressed my cheek as they went by.  Not that I didn't want them to touch me, but it didn't give me comfort either.  I waited a few minutes and went in to join them in front of the TV.  I was only sitting a minute before I remembered my homework.  "I need to go up and do my homework.  I didn't finish it yet."   Because it was expected of me I went and kissed them each on the cheek.  Told them goodnight.

Upstairs in my room I only turned on the desk lamp.  I liked the dark.  I worked on my homework.  And it was work to try and stay focused when I felt so out of focus.  Nothing seemed clear, my head felt foggy, and I didn't want to have to think about or do anything.  There was no desire to do anything.  But I had things I had to do.  And the things I had to do always had to be done.   Like homework.  School.  Be with people.

Think.   The worst thing of all.

When I finished everything I packed all of my books in to my backpack and put it by the door.  I opened one of my windows a crack to let some of the cold air in.  I put my nose right to the window and felt the tingle of the air in my nose.  Once changed in to my pajamas I set the alarm, turned off the light and sat by the window.  Looking out, but not seeing anything.

All this time, all this crap.  I pulled my knees up to my chin and wrapped my arms around my legs.  Who would ever want a used up something like me?  What was I anyway?  What boy would ever believe I was young, innocent and scared.  Who would ever believe that I didn't even know how to kiss a boy?  That I don't know what it feels like to have someone hold me and love me.  I wouldn't have a clue as to what I could possibly have to say to anyone who would ever be interested in me.  And just why would anyone?

Today.  My life changed.  And no one knows.

Without wanting to, and without being able to stop myself, I replayed what he had done to me.  Moments.  Pictures.  Flashes.  All of the fear thumped, pounded, in my heart as if it was right now.  How could I ever tell someone about these things and expect them to think of me as....

As what?

This Is A Story. The Characters are Fictional. The Facts Are Not.

"Can you help me at my new apartment?"  I kept my back to him as he sat with my parents at the kitchen table. I kept washing the dishes and pretended that I didn't hear him.  Mom and I had a pretty good schedule going with who did dishes and who did dinner.  I liked helping at home, especially since mom went back to work and I reaped some of the rewards of a two income household.  And most times our home was very comfortable and happy.  This was not one of those times.  Sometimes I wondered how mom and dad couldn't perceive my discomfort, my anxiety.  I guess we can all act pretty normal when we want to protect someone, and I sure didn't want my mom and dad to know.

"Nicky, Doug is talking to you."  I could feel her smile at my dad as she said behind me "sometimes she just zones right out".  Dad would be smiling back at her, they always seemed so pleased with one another.  I don't mean smirkey pleased, but quietly, pleasantly pleased with each other, with life, with me.  I didn't ever want to destroy that.  I turned my head and grinned quickly at them.  I barely glanced at Doug.  I had promised myself that I would not put myself in "that" position again.  I had always succumbed to his requests.  Requests usually made in front of mom and dad so as to to seem innocent.

"I'm sorry mom.   What?"  I twisted just enough, keeping my hands in the hot and soapy water, to look at mom.

"Doug was asking if you could go and help set up his new apartment."

I kept my hands in the water, washing an already clean plate.  "I can't mom.  I promised Mary I would help her with her research paper.  I have to work on my own paper and the year book, and the school paper.  We're working  every day on final drafts for the first issue."  Doug never said a word, I knew by now his little tricks.  He would plant the suggestion then let them talk me in to it.  In some pathetically twisted way, this made it even better for him.   "Sorry mom I can't."  I turned back to the dishes and finished them.

"That's okay, I guess being a bachelor means I need to do these things for myself."  I kept my back to him and could feel them looking at me.  Expecting me to say something.  I put the plate in the other side of the sink, rinsed all the dishes there with the hose.  I took my time.  Dried my hands.  I turned to walk out of the kitchen and looked at them as I walked out.

"I guess so."  was all I threw back at them as I escaped through the door.  I couldn't wait to go outside because I didn't want to feel trapped in the house.  I walked out of the house.  I walked down the street until I got to Mary's house and I sat on the steps.  Mary was the only one who knew.  And I had only told her in the past few months.  It was while talking to Mary that I had decided I would not let it happen again.

I'm sure I left mom and dad kind of befuddled.  I never denied Doug anything before.  If he requested some kind of 'help' from me, I did it.  If he wanted to take me out to dinner or a movie, I said okay.  No, I didn't want to, but I felt I had to.  I didn't want to upset mom or dad.  Doug had been a part of their lives for a very long time.  Mostly dad's.  Doug had a rough life growing up, and dad's family felt sorry for him.  He was almost always included in their family plans because his own family didn't include him in anything.  At one point Dough's family situation got worse.  My grandpa had a meeting with Doug's family and somehow Doug ended up living with my dad's family.  So they were kind of raised as brothers.  I actually called him 'uncle' until about two years ago.  But I felt like that made him as good as my real uncles.  When I stopped calling him 'uncle' my parents couldn't understand it.  Doug told them it was no big deal.  

Even though I had promised myself I wouldn't let it happen again, this was the first time I had just not "let" it happen and I was very scared.  My whole insides trembled.  This was not my norm, protecting myself.  I waited a few minutes then got up and knocked on the front door.  Mary came racing to the door, and got there right before her fifteen year old brother.

She opened the door and called him a 'dork'.  He halfheartedly punched her in the shoulder and walked away.  There was a time when they would have pummeled each other, but like their parents said ... "they are growing up".  Probably none too soon.  They could get pretty vicious.  At least in my eyes.  Not having any siblings I didn't completely understand these physical assaults.  Sometimes I envied them.  Sometimes I went home eternally grateful my parents stopped at one, me.

Mary reached out the now open door and grabbed my wrist and pulled me in.  I followed her upstairs to her room.  Once inside she closed, slammed, the door.

"I'm sorry Nicky.  I tried to get out when I saw his car down there but mom wouldn't let me out until I cleaned my room.  I tried to get it clean!"  I looked around and was surprised at the near cleanliness of her room.   "But I couldn't get it done fast enough."

She sat on her bed and I sat on the floor.  "Don't worry Mary, nothing happened."  She eyed me suspiciously.  Even though I had told her, she knew I didn't always tell her everything.  "I swear Mary.".  She relaxed a little.  When I told her she had wanted to tell my parents, then her parents, and it was very difficult for her to not tell her parents.  Her mom is a counselor and she felt her mom could help.  But help meant telling mom and dad.

Mary and I had made this deal.  Whenever she saw his car at our house she would call or show up and see if we couldn't thwart his plans.

"Did he try anything?"  Mary wasn't in to sordid details she was in to protecting me.  It was her nature.

"Yeah he asked if I would go to his new apartment and help him set it up."

"You're kidding!  What a prick!"

"The worst of it?  I would have really helped him clean it and set it up and then...."  We were both very quiet. For the obvious reason, reality, that made us both mad and thoughtful.

Quickly Mary smiled to cover her watery eyes.   "But Nicky!  You did it!"

I knew what she was talking about.  I didn't just 'let it happen'.  I said no.  I left.  I protected myself.  Why didn't I feel better?  I liked that I was here instead of in his car, on the way to hell.  I felt guilty but I couldn't tell Mary that.  I felt nauseous.  I laid back on the floor with my knees in the air, it felt like there was very little air.  Mary laid back on her bed in the same position.  We were very quiet.  I needed quiet.  Mary could tell.  My heart felt like it was on the war path.  My ears were ringing.  My hands were quivery.  I didn't really like talking about this.  Sometimes I was relieved somebody else knew.  Other times I wished I had never said a word.  It meant sharing something.  Something that I didn't want let alone want to share.  Sometimes that just made it twice as bad.  Other times though, like now, the sharing almost seemed to lighten the load.  Mary knew, but she didn't pry.  She didn't push me.  She was quiet when I needed quiet.  Like now.   This was new to her and she wasn't sure how to tread.  It was not new to me and I didn't know how to tread.   The sharing was new.   And the sharing was scary.