12. Delilah
DELILAH
The ride back to Kingston Prep was filled with anxiety and prolonged silences.
My mother opted to drive me, having taken the morning off work at the local bank to do it, and I reluctantly got in the car as she dragged me back to the place that haunted my dreams. My father left before sunrise, needing to make up his lost time at the plant. I didn’t miss seeing him.
All night, I tried and failed to get to sleep.
But every time I closed my eyes, I saw him .
Pastor John. It was bad enough that my body felt sore and bruised, but the knowledge that I would be right back where I was assaulted— where my abuser still lurked, had me dry heaving.
I didn’t even eat breakfast and I had no appetite.
My stomach felt like it was twisted into a knot, and under my skin felt like it was vibrating.
How was I supposed to get through the day? And sit in his class? And breathe the same air as him?
I wanted to reach for the door handle and hurl my body out of the moving vehicle. The thought crossed my mind several times, but ending myself would only let them win. Somehow, I had to get through this. Even if it took every bit of strength I had, I would escape this place and never look back.
I pulled at my skirt, noting the bruises and scrapes that dotted my legs.
Each one a physical reminder of what I endured.
I kept hoping that this was some horrific, terrible nightmare, and that I’d wake up.
But unfortunately, I was as awake as could be, and there was no mistake.
This was really my life, and this shit had really happened to me.
As my mother put the car in park, I stared up at the imposing building.
My heart was beating so hard I could barely hear her start to pray for me.
It was probably best that I tuned it out because I didn’t feel like getting into a fight with her right now.
I was running on zero sleep and hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday morning.
I didn’t have the strength to tell her to go shove it.
Maybe it was stupid of me to return to school in such a weakened state, but I didn’t have much of a choice.
I opened the car door and willed my feet to carry me into this place of horrors. Reluctantly, they obeyed. My mom didn’t even wait until I was inside before pulling away and leaving me behind to face my fate. Nice. Love you too, Mom, I thought bitterly.
The secretary was waiting for me with a look of pity on her pinched face.
She had bright pink lipstick that was smeared on her front two teeth, and she had a number two pencil sticking out of her messy brunette bun.
Her cardigan that hung about her shoulders askew matched the shade of her lipstick almost perfectly.
“Delilah, good to see you back here so soon.” She opened the door with a wide smile that showed all of her stained teeth, reminding me of a piranha, and I nodded at her, unable to respond.
My hands were clamming up on me and my knees felt like they were wobbling with every step I took.
The moment the door closed behind me I felt like I was going to pass out.
“We’ve set you up with the school counselor for a special session this afternoon?—”
“Is there a way I can go there now? I’m not really feeling up to class yet,” I said, interrupting her.
A risk, since interrupting an adult was seen as a punishable offense, but it was a chance I was willing to take.
I felt seconds away from either passing out or vomiting all over this lady’s Pepto Bismol inspired outfit .
She pursed her lips, clearly annoyed, but then she must have registered the look on my face because she said, “I’ll see if they’re available.”
“Thank you,” I breathed out, grateful for a small win.
I’d never been in the counselor’s office before.
It was covered in wood paneling and smelled of burnt toast and strawberry jam.
There was an orange and brown plaid couch that looked as if the Hulk had sat in it, rendering the middle concave.
The fabric was peeling off in several spots and there was a suspicious brown stain on one of the flattened cushions.
Not exactly comforting, but at least it wasn’t Pastor John’s classroom.
I stood examining the window, wishing I could shimmy out of the small opening and make a break for it while I waited for the counselor to arrive.
There was no way my hips could fit through it.
Outside the room, I could hear the passing period starting up. I’d been waiting for a whole class period, but that suited me fine. It gave me time to prepare for the inevitable ridicule I would be subjected to once my fellow classmates saw me.
Especially Lauren, Bethany, and Abigail.
“Hello, hello. So sorry to keep you waiting, I wasn’t expecting you until later. Please take a seat,” an older gentleman with a gray goatee, bald head, and round spectacles that sat in the middle of his curved nose said. He extended his hand out to me.
Tentatively, I reached out and shook it, wishing I could crawl inside my own skin instead. His hands were damp and the sensation churned my stomach. Being alone with him had my already frayed nerves on edge, but I knew refusing would only land me in a world of punishment.
“Now, let’s see here,” he said, dropping into his chair behind the desk that was littered with folders and papers. He picked up a folder with my name on it and my eyes snagged on the one beneath. In large black letters, I read Cain’s name and swallowed hard.
There’d been no update about where he’d been taken or what they were doing with him. I hoped he was able to prove his innocence. I’d testify to it. They couldn’t put him away for good without my statement, right?
I wasn’t sure.
The way that everyone had acted as if it couldn’t have been anyone but him was alarming. Not one adult would listen to me, so I didn’t have any hope that the justice system would either.
“Delilah, would you like to discuss how you’re feeling?”
Would I like to discuss how I was feeling? I didn’t even know where to begin. And if I’d learned anything over the last twenty-four hours, it was that my voice and thoughts weren’t of value here.
“Or maybe perhaps it would bring you comfort to know Cain has been arraigned without bail.”
That had my attention. My eyes slid over to his round spectacles, watching as he pushed them up the bridge of his nose. No bail. On top of getting arrested.
“Already?”
He nodded, hardly sparing me a glance. “Small town. Not a lot of cases.”
“Is there a way I can testify?”
He looked at me from over his glasses in a way that spoke of annoyance. “I’m sure they would have told you if you needed to do that.”
The dismissal curled around my middle and crawled up my throat.
Why I thought that the counselor might be interested in what I had to say, was beyond me.
These adults in places of power seemed to fail me at every turn.
They weren’t interested in my words, my thoughts, or my desires.
They were only interested in my obedience.
“Okay, well if that’s all, I think I’d like to head to class now,” I said, gathering my things in a hurry. I wasn’t about to let one more adult make me feel invalidated by what I went through.
“Nice to meet you, Dana,” he said.
I didn’t even stop to correct him.
Instead, I made a beeline for the bathrooms, thankful to avoid any monitors that enforced the strict bathroom hours and heaved into the toilet.
The bile burned the back of my throat and filled my mouth with a sick, acidic taste.
Grabbing a wad of toilet paper, I wiped my mouth and let out a shudder.
This place. These people. The unfairness of it all pressed down onto my sternum and made me want to scream.
But even if I did, it wouldn’t make any difference. This was my life and I was powerless to change it.