Font Size:  

It grew louder.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

* * *

“I could feel his heartbeat,” Gina said. “I could feel his heartbeat thumping as he held me.”

“And how did that make you feel?” I asked.

“Warm, at first. Secure in someone’s arms.”

“What else do you remember?”

“I remember the…hardness in his lap. I didn’t know what it was, and I didn’t want to be rude and ask. I didn’t want to anger him because I needed the closeness, and I didn’t want it to go away.”

“I understand.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Is it true that some victims of childhood abuse don’t remember the abuse?”

“In some cases.”

She sighed and closed her eyes. “I think they are the lucky ones.”

I could not fault her observation, but I did have a response. “Whether you think so now or not, Gina, it is better that you remember. Blocking out painful memories comes with its own problems.”

“What kind of problems? It seems to me that ignorance would be bliss.”

“That’s the problem. Ignorance is not bliss. Perhaps a victim doesn’t consciously remember these things, but they are still inside, and they can manifest a thousand different ways, sometimes as personality disorders, sometimes other mental illnesses. Sometimes the victim goes on to abuse another. In the worst cases, the victim might take his own life.”

She shook her head. “I can’t imagine that. I would never do such a thing. He’s not worth dying for.”

“I know you won’t, and I’m very glad of that. But believe me, it’s better that you remember. Even if it’s painful. Then you can get through it. People have gotten through worse.”

“I can’t imagine that anyone ever had any worse,” she said.

“They have, but that’s not what you need to focus on. You need to focus on you. Your life. You’re here now, getting the help you need. It’s a rocky road, I know. But I’m here with you every step of the way.”

“I have trouble sleeping. For a long time, I didn’t. For a long time, I tried to just convince myself I was okay. Sometimes I was successful, others not as much. But now… It all seems so real, and I can’t escape it at night.”

“I can prescribe medication to help you sleep. Everything is easier to deal with when you’re well rested.”

“I…don’t like the idea of medication.”

“Sleep aids on the market today are nonaddictive,” I assured her. “Think of your inability to sleep as a symptom that needs to be relieved. If you have a headache, you take aspirin or ibuprofen, right?”

She nodded.

“So why not take something to relieve the symptom of insomnia?”

“I’ll think about it,” she said. “I don’t want to be scared. I don’t need to be scared anymore. My uncle’s dead.”

“I’m sure that’s a comfort to you. How did he die?”

“I don’t know. My parents just told me he was dead.”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
Articles you may like