Page 8 of One of Our Own

I stared at my words after I’d sent them. The truth was I didn’t know the right thing to say in this moment. So I gave her the only thing I had—my lived experience. I could feel her staring at the words, too. Wondering what she should say. How she should respond. Finally, her text bubbles, then:

Did something happen to you?

My thumbs hovered on the keyboard. I was about to tell a stranger my darkest secret. What was I doing? I shoved the fears down. If I was going to ask her to be brave, then I had to be brave, too.

Can you call me?

A call from another unknown number flashed across my screen immediately.

CHLOE:[awkward and hesitant] Hey…

FELICIA:Hi, uh, thanks for calling. It’s a lot to write out in a text and it’s good to hear your voice.

CHLOE:You sound different.

FELICIA:What do you mean?

CHLOE:You sounded different on the phone last night.

FELICIA:I did?

CHLOE:Mm-hmmm…

FELICIA:Maybe it’s because I was using a headset and I’m on a computer when I’m at the center.

CHLOE:Right. Is that the something bad that happened to you—someone committed suicide? Is that why you work there?

FELICIA:Well—my sister died by suicide, so that’s why I started working there. You’re right about that. But that’s not what I’m talking about. That’s not why I can relate to what you’re going through.

CHLOE:It’s not? What happened to you?

FELICIA:[deep breath] I was assaulted by a boyfriend seventeen years ago, and he almost killed me. It’s not exactly the same situation as you. I get that. Nobody recorded the incident and sent it around to other people. I don’t understand that part, and I know it must add a whole other level of pain to the experience… but I do know what it’s like to have your innocence completely stripped away from you in an instant. To have something so traumatic happen to you that nothing feels real afterward. I know what it’s like to spend all your time wishing for a life you know you’ll never get back. To feel alone and want to die from the shame and embarrassment. But nothing was worse than not feeling safe, and—

CHLOE:YES! I never stop being scared. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t do anything. When I try to sleep, I just have these awful nightmares. I see stuff—what they did to me, them laughing—whenever I close my eyes. It’s like they’re watching me. Still. And I’m just terrified. I’m so tired of being scared. I—I don’t want to feel like this anymore.

FELICIA:I understand. I really do. And I promise it goes away eventually. It does. You learn how to feel safe again. It just takes awhile. Andthe key thing is, you’ve got to have people around you that can love you and support you through it.

CHLOE:So you told people what happened to you?

FELICIA:I did.

CHLOE:I’m such an idiot. I should’ve listened to my mom. I wasn’t supposed to go to that stupid party and I did anyway. That’s what I get.

FELICIA:Oh, honey. Whatever happened wasn’t your fault.

CHLOE:Yes, it was. I wasn’t supposed to be there, and if I’d just done what my parents told me to do, then none of this would be happening. It’s all my fault!

FELICIA:I want you to know that I’m a parent, too, and I’d want my child to tell me if something awful happened to them so that I could help them. Even if they’d done something they weren’t supposed to do. Seriously. I’d just want to be there for them no matter what. I’m sure your parents feel the same way.

CHLOE:You don’t know my parents.

FELICIA:You’re right, I don’t. But it might help just to get it out.

[Long pause]

CHLOE:Well, maybe I could tell you… Do you want to know what happened?

FELICIA:Only if you want to tell me.

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