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All I can do is nod my head. I want to be able to tell her something but I’m also so grateful that I don’tremember what happened. It sounds so fucking terrifying. Just like so much of my past, this is going to be another piece of my life that gets locked away in an attempt to keep me safe. The only thing that’s ever kept me safe is my own mind.
Sarah comes back a few hours later, I don’t have anything new to tell her, and there’s no reason for me to stay in the hospital any longer. There’s nothing they can do for me. No one can help me. Nevertheless, she gives me a card to a psychiatrist that specializes in helping rape victims.
Rape victim.
How can I be a rape victim? The thought is almost impossible to believe. I don’t want to believe it, and even though I can’t remember the actual moment it happened, I know it’s true. I get dressed in a pair of sweats, a t-shirt, and flip flops that Sarah bought for me herself. I took one look at the dress I came here wearing and had to run to the bathroom to throw up. Since the dress had already been processed for DNA, it promptly went into the trash, and I gladly accepted the clothes Sarah gave me. She also denied any mention of repayment. I think she might very well be an angel. I take the card with the promise to call, and I hug Sarah, thanking her for everything she’s done for me.
“The type of genuine kindness you have isn’t common,” I say, as I hug her tightly. “Never lose it.”
“I promise I won’t as long as you promise to take care of yourself.”
She pulls back, holding me at arms-length, staring at me expectantly, with a hint of demand. I manage to give her a small smile and nod my head but I can’t bring myself to make a verbal promise. I know she doesn’t miss that little fact but she doesn’t press me. She just nods again and watches me as I walk out of the hospital and back into my life.
I stand in the outer entryway of the hospital taking in the world around me. Nothing has changed and yet everything has changed. The sun is shining and the heat immediately settles into my skin, but the warmth doesn’t seem to penetrate deep enough. I shiver and I know it has nothing to do with the change in temperature from inside the hospital to outside.
How can life just go on spinning as if nothing happened? No one around me knows me. No one knows what happened. But as people pass by me, walking in and out of the hospital, I feel their eyes on me. It feels like theycansee the shame radiating off me, the embarrassment, and the pain. I feel like they can see all of my deepest, darkest secrets as if I was wearing them proudly like a tiara and sash. I know it’s absolutely ridiculous, I know they can’tactuallyknow what happened to me, but the feeling is real nonetheless and makes me want to curl in on myself.
I walk toward the line of waiting cabs. One man is leaning against the hood of his car. “Do you need a ride?” He asks, gesturing to the cab. The idea of getting into a car, with an unknown man, alone, has my heart racing and my fear practically immobilizing me. I manage to push through the crippling fear and shake my head as I practically run away from him.
I see a woman sitting in a cab a few cars down and I hurry over to her. Her passenger window is cracked, and I lean down, looking at her through the window.
“Are you free?” My voice sounds foreign to me. It’s hollow and weak. Scared. The voice of a victim.
“Hop in,” she says blandly, barely even glancing at me before she starts the car.
I climb into the back seat, still stiff and tense with caution. And fear. Even though she’s a woman, she’s still a stranger, and I have no idea what she is and isn’t capable of. I’m wary of everyone now and the ball of nerves and fear is tight and heavy inside of my chest. I feel it where my heart should be, but I think my heart was cut out of my chest last night, and all that’s left are these emotions and a big fucking scar.
“Where ya headed?” She asks as she starts the meter and pulls off the curb.
“43rdand Marble.”
As we get out of the hospital parking lot, I realize where we are. I’m clear across town, not at the hospital closest to where I live. The hospital close to where I live is known for being extremely busy and always understaffed. This hospital though, is known to be the best in the city. I definitely didn’t get here on my own. How the hell did I get here? Was it the blue-eyed stranger after all? Is he real? My gut is telling me that he’s real but I have no way to find him. Hell, I don’t even remember what he looks like other than his intense eyes. How will I ever find him?
You won’t.
I sigh and slowly start to settle in the backseat as we make our way through the impossible traffic of New York City. Even though I obviously slept in the hospital, a sudden heavy exhaustion takes over my body and all I want to do is get inside the comfort and safety of my tiny apartment, climb into my bed, and sleep for weeks.
That’s exactly what I do.
I shut the rest of the world out. I basically cocoon myself inside of my tiny apartment and survive, barely, off canned and junk food. And not even halfway decent canned food that requires heating, like corn or green beans. No, I eat fruit cocktail, applesauce, vienna sausages, tuna, peanut butter, chips, cereal out of the box, crackers and, of course, you can never have enough cookies.
So, basically, I’m just slowly poisoning my body with crap, but I just can’t bring myself to care about a fucking thing. I feel like a zombie. Like my body is nothing more than a shell of the person I used to be. I don’t know who I am anymore. My life was taken from me the night my choice was forcefully ripped from me. I still can’t remember what happened that night. It’s like something inside of my brain just snapped. Disconnected. Internet connection not found. And I don’t know whether to be grateful that I can’t remember or mad. Maybe, if I could remember, I would be able to connect with the woman I used to be. Maybe, if I could remember, I could face it head on and start to heal and then perhaps, there could be some semblance of moving on.
But I can’t.
I can’t remember.
I can’t find myself.
I can’t heal.
I can’t move on.
I’m lost. I’m so fucking lost. And all that comes to me is darkness, fear, pain, blood, tears, the feeling of being invisible, and then…a riotous ocean storm. Blue eyes, so deep and fathomless, so cold and dangerous, and yet the memory of those eyes is the only sense of warmth and comfort I have. Day and night, awake or dreaming, I’m tormented by feelings, pieces of memories, sensations, and utter hopelessness.
Except when I remember those ocean eyes.
I’ve never been so drawn to anything, to anyone, before in my life. But those eyes have seared into my mind, into my skin, and into my soul. Every second of every day, they continue to save me from myself, from my past, from my pain, from the void trying to pull me in and devour me.
