The Therapist

Can this be happening? We are trying to move on and recover from our rapes, and this happens to Jenna. My heart aches for her right now. It is as if we are having a déjà vu moment while riding in this van with Ms. Jasmine. Well, and with Mr. Derek this time as well. Silence and sobs mix as we make our way to the hospital, and this reminds me of the drive back to Hope House when we first met Jenna. That was one of the scariest days of my life. I didn’t know what to expect when we arrived at Hope House. Nakita being hurt was all that played in my mind. But when she walked out in handcuffs, full of blood, my heart became jumbled. Ever since that day, I’ve admired her and looked up to her for her bravery. Unfortunately, this ride doesn’t look like it’ll result in such a happy ending.

When Alonzo phoned Ms. Jasmine, we were having a little after-school barbecue outside with the kids. It was beautiful out and too hot to turn on the stove, so Mr. Derek offered to throw a few things on the grill. Everything was going great, and the calm atmosphere was just what I needed. But it didn’t last long. The screech that came from Ms. Jasmine while she was on the phone stopped everyone in their tracks. The music, laughter, and peace faded away instantly. It was as if the world came to a standstill the moment she screeched, and it was not set in motion until after she shared with us what had happened to Jenna.

Right now, I think if I go inside the actual hospital room where she is being treated, I might lose it. There’s no way I will be able to look at her and not recall each and every time Todd hurt me and not want to strangle every male in the hospital. I have to calm down. It would be better if I kept my anger in the reception area.

“We’re here,” Ms. Jasmine informs us, her voice a little above a whisper, when we arrive at the hospital.

“I’ll stay in the van with the kids,” I say. “You guys go in and give Jenna my best. The kids don’t need to see any of this. Just tell Candice, her little ones is out here with me, so she isn’t worried.”

“Are you sure? I can stay back with the kids while you ladies go inside,” Mr. Derek offers.

“I think Ms. J needs you, Mr. Dee,” I tell him.

A tear slides down Ms. Jasmine’s face at the mention of this.

“Yes, she does.” He cradles her.

“You know what? I think I will stay in the car and give you a hand,” Tracy volunteers.

I stare at her. “A hand with what? Every last one of these kids is knocked out.”

“Well, I’ll keep you company. I don’t think I can handle seeing Jenna like that. If they even let us in the room. Either way, I don’t want to go in there. I’ll fall apart, and that’s so not what she needs right now.”

“That makes two of us,” I say as Ms. Jasmine and Mr. Derek step out of the van and close the van doors.

“I’m aching for Jenna right now, Simone,” Tracy tells me when we are alone with the kids. “She was a virgin, for goodness’ sake. Why would someone take advantage of her like this?”

“At some point, a lot of us had our innocence ripped from us, and we will never understand why these things happen. I think I would try to kill the person if I were to see them. All this has me on ten, and coming down is nowhere in sight.”

“You’re right. Each and every one of us shares the same pain, and it’s the type of suffering that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. On another note, did you talk to Dr. Binet about all this killing and strangling you keep talking about doing? You’re no longer a Nakita clone. You’ve bypassed her rage.”

“Hell, I just picked up where she left off,” I reply with a snicker.

“That’s not funny, Simone. I hope you don’t talk like this around Sage.” Her eyes widen.

“I don’t, because she’s too impressionable right now. You can walk around, trying to mimic everything Candice does, thinking you have the answers to everything, because you’re now following in her footsteps, going to school. She’s not perfect, and neither are you. It’s okay to get upset and not allow people to walk all over you. I am sure that televangelist that you two love so much would agree if you sat down and talked to him. Better yet, if it happened to his wife or daughter.”

“No one ever said it was wrong to get upset and allow people to walk over anyone. You’ve surpassed being upset and have stepped into being enraged at any little thing. Your face is all flushed and tense just from this conversation. I didn’t hurt you, Simone. I would never do anything to hurt you. I love you like the sister I never had.”

“Would you please stop with the one-on-one interventions, Tracy? Please! Jenna was raped! That doesn’t bother you at all? You’re going to sit here and tell me that you’re not the least bit upset? None of this triggered anything in you? You went through the same damn thing. How are you calm? I don’t care how much therapy you’ve undergone or what you’re learning in those textbooks. You’re human. You cannot pretend like it didn’t happen.”

“I am not pretending anything, Simone.” Her lip quivers.

“Look, I might have anger issues. It has gotten to the point where I actually recall or relive hurting Terianne the night of the funeral. Like I went back there and gave her exactly what she needed. If the police came and arrested me today, I’d probably plead guilty, because you cannot tell me I didn’t carve her like an apple. However, with all that being said, I acknowledge what happened to me. After all this time, not once have you said your abuser’s name or recounted what happened to you. I know I kept pieces locked away because I was hurting, but guess what? I talked about it. You need to talk about it. You’re walking around diagnosing everyone when you’re the one that needs a diagnosis. Did you even talk to Dr. Binet or another therapist about your rape?”

“Stop saying that,” she squeaks, her voice shaky, as she reached for the door handle.

“Where are you going?”

“I can’t sit in here.”

“It’s hot out there.”

“I don’t care,” she says as she climbs out of the van. As she closes the door behind her, I hop out too.

“You have to talk about it eventually, Tracy,” I say as I follow behind her.

“Why? I told Dr. Binet what she needed to hear. I don’t want to keep reliving that time in my life. You already know what Paul and Anthony did to us. What more do you need to hear? Why is it so important to you? Do you want to hear it so you have another reason to become enraged? So you can dream of cutting up another person? Maybe Dr. Binet needs to have you put in inpatient therapy, like they did Nakita. It helped her. It might do you some good. You’re a danger to yourself and Sage, judging by the way you talk.”

“That was cute, what you just did. Now that I think about it, you always do that.”

She looks back at me, her brows knit, then marches back over to the van so that no one sees us having this heated conversation. I follow her. “Do what?” she says.

“You deflect. Anytime the spotlight is on or near you, you spin it in another direction. Well, guess what? It’s not going to work this time. And you might be right. Maybe I do need additional help . . . or maybe I don’t. What I do know is, holding everything in is no longer eating away at me like a flesh-eating virus. I got it out. Now I will get the rest of this anger out, even if it means carving someone up, as you said.”

“That’s not funny, Simone. Stop saying that.”

“If you talk, I’ll stop.”

“Why is this so important to you?” Tracy asks.

“Because you’re important to me, and if something were ever to happen to me, I’d want you to care for Sage the same way Candice does for Adrianna.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to you. Don’t say that.” She dissolves into tears.

“Look, as you can see from what we’ve been through and now with Jenna, anything is possible. I am just being realistic, Tracy. Tomorrow isn’t promised to us, nor is it scripted to be pleasant for us. We’re living witnesses of that one.”

“He was so much bigger than me, Simone. I was helpless. I tried pushing him off each time, but I knew physically I couldn’t stop him. So, I stopped fighting and let him do whatever he wanted to do to me. I let it happen, so it’s my fault. I cannot cry rape when I allowed it to happen. I knew it was wrong. He said I had to look out for him the same way he looked out for me. What was I supposed to do?” She pauses to wipe her tears with the backs of her hands.

After catching her breath, she continues. “Mom would never believe me. She didn’t believe me with the previous boyfriend, who used to touch me. Do you know what she did then, Simone? She beat me instead. So why would I tell her that for a year, when I was between the ages of fourteen and fifteen, her new boyfriend had sex with me? He even went as far as threatening me, saying if I ever got pregnant, I would have to have an abortion. He said if I refused to, he’d beat it out of me, so I ran away. I couldn’t kill an innocent baby when it was my fault that it was here. I went to the ER and told them I’d been raped and was pregnant and I didn’t know who had done it. Neither did I have a place to live. That’s how I ended up at Hope House,” she says, still sobbing.

“Tracy, listen to me and hear me good. You were raped, just like you told them in the ER. He was a grown man. He had no business touching you, period. You didn’t do anything wrong. He was wrong. He raped you. You did not consent to anything. Now, I am going to ask you the question you’re always asking me. Did you tell Dr. Binet any of this?”

“No, because I didn’t want them to say I was a liar.”

“Why in God’s name would you think that? That man messed your head up. He raped you, Tracy. You just said he was too big to fight. That’s rape.”

“Yeah, but I stopped fighting after a while.”

“Did you tell him no? Did you ask for it? No, you did not. That is rape. Did you ever tell your mother?”

“In the beginning, yes, I told him no. I knew Mom wouldn’t believe me. She said I never wanted her to be happy. When I told her about her other boyfriend, she confronted him, and he put us out of his house. Mom blamed me. Things between us were never the same after that. She hated me. She’d say, ‘As soon as you’re of age, I can live my life. We have to live here with my sister because your fast ass wants everything I have.’ Why would I tell her anything after that?” Tracy took a deep breath to collect herself.

She went on. “She was happy when she met Calvin. At first, he was cool, almost like a big brother at times or even a father to me. Now that I think about it, it was a setup. He had a hidden agenda. Mom moved him in after three weeks of dating. Calvin jumped to my defense when mom was enforcing her law. He had a way of getting Mom to do whatever he said. When my friends would come over, Calvin would sneak alcohol to us. We loved him. We thought he was the most relaxed adult ever known. Everything changed when he pretended to work the night shift and sneaked back into the house through my window.

“It started on the weekends, when my best friend, Monica, would sleep over. Her mom did doubles on the weekends, which included overnights. She was never home. Of course, Calvin talked Mom into letting Monica stay with us on the weekends, since we were always at one another’s house anyway. He’d come fully loaded with food and alcohol. As soon as we started feeling the alcohol hit us, he’d invite us to play spin the bottle. In this game, well, his game, with every turn, an article of clothes had to be removed. He’d touch himself while we removed our clothes. Later on, he graduated to feeling a part of our bodies with each spin. Eventually, he, of course, initiated physical contact. The first time he had sex with us, he made us hold hands while he took turns with us. It was the most humiliating and scariest time in both of our lives. After that, Monica stopped coming over and talking to me. She . . .”

“What, Tracy?”

“She hurt herself. It’s all my fault. If I had said something, she’d still be here. She kicked and screamed, but he covered her mouth. When she tried to run while he was on me, he hit her so hard that she passed out. I thought she was dead. After that, whenever he’d come through my window, I’d just lie there. I was so scared, Simone.” Tracy looks like she is going to vomit.

“I am so sorry, Tracy.”

“This is something you should have shared with me, Tracy,” a familiar voice says behind me.

I turn around. “Oh my goodness. Dr. Binet.” A rush of adrenaline consumes me as the blood drains from my face.

Standing behind us, as if she had appeared from nowhere, she scolds, “That’s the problem. Anyone could have been here listening to you two and taken full advantage of both of you. I have been standing on the side of this van since you two stepped out of it. Neither of you had any idea I was here. Simone, you are in no place or condition to be talking about any of this or trying to help Tracy. You’re in dire need of help yourself.”

“I was being a friend,” I retort.

“Neither of you need friends right now. You need therapy. You might need more than that, because something isn’t working for you. I do my job one hundred percent. So it has to be you.”

“That was cruel, Dr. Binet. I know what we need. However, I was what Tracy needed right now. If you were doing your job right, you would have known all this already. You’re just salty because, without any training or a license, I did your job better than—”

Dr. Binet raises her hand and brings it down hard on my face. My cheek is on fire from the slap.

The sound of the slap echoes in my ears, and I lose it. “How dare you hit me!” I charge her.

“Stop it. Please stop it,” Tracy pleads.

Simone, get off her! What in the world is going on!” I hear Candice scream as Mr. Derek yanks me off Dr. Binet. I didn’t see them approaching.

“What the heck is going on? Where are the kids?” Ms. Jasmine asks, clearly upset by the scene that just unfolded.

“They’re in the van, asleep.” Tracy looks over her shoulder. “Well, they were sleep. Dylan and Darren are up now.”

“Dear God, hopefully, they didn’t see this fiasco.” Ms. Jasmine rushes over to open one of the van’s back doors. “Dr. Binet, you should be ashamed of yourself,” she says as she jumps in the van. She pokes her head out. “I am not sure what’s going on out here, and right now neither do I want to know. Jenna is in there, hurt. She needs us to be here for her, all of us. And you’re out here carrying on like a bunch of animals.”

“She attacked me. Don’t you dare call me an animal, Ms. Jasmine. I am a highly decorated therapist. All you people need help,” Dr. Binet replies, indignant.

“You people.” I rush toward her again.

“Mommy, please stop it,” Sage whines through the window, stopping me in my tracks.