Page 27 of The Road Less Traveled By

Ralph has taken so much from me—my safety, sanity, control, but the worst thing he took was my ability to just exist. I was twenty when he did what he did, still a girl trying to figure out who she wanted to be, but he made that choice for me. I will always be a victim. I will always be the thing that happened to me. That’s why I refuse to talk about it online. People can speculate all they want, but it’s my story to tell, and I’ll tell it when I want to. That day may never come, but it’s my choice to share it, and nobody is taking that away from me.

He has already taken so much. He doesn't get to sharemystory with the world. He’s just the man who hurt me, but I will always be theterrorized girl who watched him walk into my house with a gun at his side.

I’ve never been a big relationship girl before, but now, I can’t see myself ever having any type of relationship with someone like everyone else can. I don't see myself ever experiencing that feeling of choosing to be with someone despite it all, of growing alongside someone else as you age and experience life together. That will never be in the cards for me because if Ralph gets caught, someone else could just as easily take his place.

I’m never going to be safe again, and nobody would ever choose this life over a quieter and more peaceful one.

As my brain starts to spiral, I dial my therapist. She picks up almost immediately. “Hi, Bree. It’s wonderful to hear from you.”

I scoff at that. “As if I didn't call you yesterday.”

“You call me every single day, but it’s always good to hear your voice. How are you feeling today?”

The question seems so simple, but it has a thousand different answers to it. “I’m here, I think.”

Anna always makes me say that when I can feel myself wanting to slip into a safer reality—whether in my head, in books, music, or anything else. It’s my coping mechanism, according to her. When I feel unsafe and scared, I bolt to another place that will make me feel safe.

“That’s good to hear. Is there anything specific you wanted to talk about? Anything on your mind today?”

Anna’s a very question-led therapist. She likes to get me talking, even if none of what I’m saying is making sense. She understands that my brain and my thoughts can often get overwhelming, and this helps me to just speak and not have time to lie or keep it hidden. I learned the hard way that if you try to bury everything, it doesn't end well.

“I’m feeling scared, a bit guilty. Same old shit, just a different day.”

“That’s part of the process, Bree. Remember what I told you on our first session?”

“That my mind is like a pot of boiling water. Sometimes, the temperature is high and everything overflows, and other times, it’ll be on a low simmer, and those are the days I feel okay.”

“Good. Today feels like an overflow day, so what’s on your mind?”

“I’ve been thinking about this one conversation I had with Teagen two weeks ago.” Anna is very familiar with Teags. She thinks it's good that I have someone like her, and I always agree. Even though Teags isn't a big emotional person, she’s always there when I need her.

“And what did you two talk about?” I can hear her scratching something down on her notepad over the phone, and I let the words flow out.

“She told me how she thinks about running away sometimes, just the two of us. And I told her I think about that too, but I wasn't honest with her.”

“Why?”

“I didn't tell her that what I think about is running away so the people I love aren't in danger, how I want to run away and have Ralph follow me and stay away from them.” I’d do it in a heartbeat if I was brave enough, but the selfish part of me wants to stay surrounded by the people I love, even if it means Ralph could go after them to get to me.

“That’s perfectly normal to feel, Bree, especially with everything you have going on, but remember what I told you. The people you’re surrounded by, even though they might not understand what you’re going through, are your lines. You’re the kite flowing in the wind, whipping around and feeling like chaos, and they are the lines that anchor you back to reality. You have to have a support system while you heal.”

Tears stream down my face. “But what do I do if one of them gets hurt because of me? How do I deal with knowing I was the reason?”

“Bree, these people have chosen you. They know all about your situation, and they stayed. They stayed by your side because they love you. If they didn't, they wouldn't be here—like your parents. They don't deserve to feel your love, but your sister and Teags do.”

“Butwhat happens if it gets to be too much? What happens if they leave, if nobody stays?”

“Don't let the what-ifs cloud your brain, Bree. Come back to right now with me, okay?”

I take a few steadying breaths before I feel my mind start to clear. Sometimes, I hate my mind. Scratch that—I always hate it. My anxiety and PTSD feel like this gigantic invisible thing in front of me, but I can't physically fight it because it’s all coming from my own mind. All of these thoughts and feelings are just me. None of these feelings exist outside of my body, and nothing that I do will ever change that.

I am my own worst enemy. Every single day, I’m fighting a war within myself, and I can't get it to stop. I can only turn the burner off until something knocks into it again and my water starts to overflow.

“Did I lose you?”

I sniffle before I wipe some tears from my face. “No. I’m still here.”

“Let’s turn the stove off, okay? Do you have cold water near you?”

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