erratically and I needed to get off the phone. It became hard for me to speak as a choking sensation locked down on me.
“Thanks, Mom. I’ll call you when I get the email of the houses.”
Reluctantly, my mom let me off the line. My eyes rested on my dresser. The anti-anxiety medicine was close by, but I hadn’t touched it in weeks. It wasn’t a mystery why I was beginning to rely on it less. Gradually, I’d been letting go, believing I could be normal again. I had become the director of a romantic screenplay starring Blake and myself. It had been playing on a loop in my head, but I should’ve known my past was inescapable.
“Fuck,” I cursed and slammed my hand against the wall. My palm burned and I shook it out to relieve the pain. I told my mother Lexi would be home soon, but the truth was she had left for the weekend after dinner. She was visiting Finn’s family for the first time. It was unfortunate timing, because in all honesty, I could’ve used a friend at that moment. I was ready to tell her everything. I hated the burden of keeping all of my emotions bottled up.
I liked Casey, but we weren’t close enough to exchange confidences. We talked about the ups and downs with her boyfriend and how hard it was to be in a long-distance relationship. We also had a few laughs when we dissected episodes of The Bachelor or exchanged celebrity gossip. But that was as deep as it got.
I dialed Blake and hung up once his voicemail picked up. I wasn’t going to tell him about Mr. Bridges, but I wanted to see what his plans were for the night. I’d be willing to spend hours getting lost in video games with him and Darien as long as it provided a distraction.
I tried not to think about it, but I began to wonder what it would be like for Mr. Bridges to be free and live a normal life again. Would his family welcome him back? Teaching was out of the question, but would he find another job and start over? Maybe there would be another girl like me. Another girl who would think she was the one in control, the one who held all the power over him. Then he would rip the floor out from under her and she’d be left broken in irreparable ways.
I cried for hours, sobbing until my head ached and my tear ducts were emptied out. I was mourning the loss of the Autumn who would never be. The one who didn’t always have to run and could stand her ground. Because as nice as it was for my mom to offer up a shore house for the summer, it was just another exit strategy for me.
After plunging the room into absolute darkness, I curled up in my bed. Although I could hear the sounds of everyone in the dorm through the walls, I felt alone. I had fooled myself into believing college would heal the scars. No one could truly completely start over. Even if I moved across the world, hearing the name Thomas Bridges would still revert me to a sobbing heap on the floor.
I called the stronger part of my personality forward—the part of me that took control when the weight of my pain was more than I could take. Could I do anything to change the parole board’s mind? Maybe I should’ve been an active part of getting Mr. Bridges to pay for his crimes, but I’d been shielded for most of the process. Neither my parents nor I had wanted to go through a messy trial and a plea bargain deal had been reached. Five years had sounded like enough at the time. But did a couple of years erase the horror I felt every time I closed my eyes and saw his sharp features looming above me?
I drifted in and out of sleep until a sharp knock at the door made me sit up in bed. I debated whether or not to answer, knowing who it was without having to look through the peephole. I thought about ignoring Blake, but I had been the one to call him. However, it was after two in the morning and Blake wasn’t at my room to cheer me up. He was here to crash after another night of debauchery. By Blake’s regular schedule of heavy drinking, I was thinking how wrong I’d been to
“Thanks, Mom. I’ll call you when I get the email of the houses.”
Reluctantly, my mom let me off the line. My eyes rested on my dresser. The anti-anxiety medicine was close by, but I hadn’t touched it in weeks. It wasn’t a mystery why I was beginning to rely on it less. Gradually, I’d been letting go, believing I could be normal again. I had become the director of a romantic screenplay starring Blake and myself. It had been playing on a loop in my head, but I should’ve known my past was inescapable.
“Fuck,” I cursed and slammed my hand against the wall. My palm burned and I shook it out to relieve the pain. I told my mother Lexi would be home soon, but the truth was she had left for the weekend after dinner. She was visiting Finn’s family for the first time. It was unfortunate timing, because in all honesty, I could’ve used a friend at that moment. I was ready to tell her everything. I hated the burden of keeping all of my emotions bottled up.
I liked Casey, but we weren’t close enough to exchange confidences. We talked about the ups and downs with her boyfriend and how hard it was to be in a long-distance relationship. We also had a few laughs when we dissected episodes of The Bachelor or exchanged celebrity gossip. But that was as deep as it got.
I dialed Blake and hung up once his voicemail picked up. I wasn’t going to tell him about Mr. Bridges, but I wanted to see what his plans were for the night. I’d be willing to spend hours getting lost in video games with him and Darien as long as it provided a distraction.
I tried not to think about it, but I began to wonder what it would be like for Mr. Bridges to be free and live a normal life again. Would his family welcome him back? Teaching was out of the question, but would he find another job and start over? Maybe there would be another girl like me. Another girl who would think she was the one in control, the one who held all the power over him. Then he would rip the floor out from under her and she’d be left broken in irreparable ways.
I cried for hours, sobbing until my head ached and my tear ducts were emptied out. I was mourning the loss of the Autumn who would never be. The one who didn’t always have to run and could stand her ground. Because as nice as it was for my mom to offer up a shore house for the summer, it was just another exit strategy for me.
After plunging the room into absolute darkness, I curled up in my bed. Although I could hear the sounds of everyone in the dorm through the walls, I felt alone. I had fooled myself into believing college would heal the scars. No one could truly completely start over. Even if I moved across the world, hearing the name Thomas Bridges would still revert me to a sobbing heap on the floor.
I called the stronger part of my personality forward—the part of me that took control when the weight of my pain was more than I could take. Could I do anything to change the parole board’s mind? Maybe I should’ve been an active part of getting Mr. Bridges to pay for his crimes, but I’d been shielded for most of the process. Neither my parents nor I had wanted to go through a messy trial and a plea bargain deal had been reached. Five years had sounded like enough at the time. But did a couple of years erase the horror I felt every time I closed my eyes and saw his sharp features looming above me?
I drifted in and out of sleep until a sharp knock at the door made me sit up in bed. I debated whether or not to answer, knowing who it was without having to look through the peephole. I thought about ignoring Blake, but I had been the one to call him. However, it was after two in the morning and Blake wasn’t at my room to cheer me up. He was here to crash after another night of debauchery. By Blake’s regular schedule of heavy drinking, I was thinking how wrong I’d been to
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