“Tell us the truth now, Terra,” another voice said. “If you’re honest, you won’t get in trouble.”
I could no longer argue. What could I possibly say? It seemed that everyone had already gotten my story figured out.
Everyone.
Except me.
NOW
15
JA Admin: Welcome, NightTerra. Remember the rules: no judgments, no swearing, no inappropriate remarks. This is a safe space for honesty and support.
TulipPrincess: The warped part? I blame myself.
RainyDayFever: For your mother’s BS?
TulipPrincess: For letting everything happen to begin with.
CityGirlSal: Do you realize how screwed up that sounds?
TulipPrincess: Screwed up or not, I shouldn’t have been hanging with my mother’s bf. I should’ve said no when he insisted we watch movies together every Tuesday night, then twice a week.
Paylee22: It wasn’t your fault.
TulipPrincess: It was my fault I didn’t trust my instincts. I should’ve suspected he was garbage when he started giving me money to spend on the weekend.
RainyDayFever: Paylee’s right. It wasn’t your fault.
CityGirlSal: My therapist says the victim almost always blames herself.
TulipPrincess: The victims are also the ones who have to relive the trauma over and over again with everyone’s questions and with the consequences of whatever happened.
CityGirlSal: You can pretty much tell what people are thinking just by the questions they ask. “Why didn’t you tell someone?” “Wasn’t there a parent or teacher you could talk to?” #Gross
CityGirlSal: What’s the right answer anyway? “Yes, there was someone, but I was too stupid to think of that”? Or, “Yes, there was someone, but I didn’t go that route so I probably deserved what I got”?
TulipPrincess: On top of everything else, my bf broke up with me because he couldn’t understand why I took that guy’s money, why it didn’t set off warning bells.
TulipPrincess: The thing is, it did, but I took the money anyway. I’m not even sure why.
TulipPrincess: Maybe because I felt like not taking it would’ve hurt his feelings. How messed up is that?
RainyDayFever: It isn’t your fault, Tulip!!
Paylee22: Def not!
NightTerra: I’m really sorry.
NightTerra: But I’m also really thankful for everything you’re sharing. It’s helpful to know I’m not the only one feeling stupid for her choices.
TulipPrincess: You’re def not the only one.
TulipPrincess: But you shouldn’t feel stupid. None of us should. We’ve all been through enough crap.
TulipPrincess: Notice I can say that clearly, but feeling it is something else entirely. #SelfBlameIsABitch
JA Admin: Remember the rules. Please, no swearing.
TulipPrincess: Sorry! #pottymouth
TulipPrincess: I need to get some sleep.
TulipPrincess: Thanks for listening, everyone.
NightTerra: Thank you!
CityGirlSal: We’re here for you, Tulip!
RainyDayFever: Always here!
Paylee22: Always willing to listen!
TulipPrincess: Thank you, thank you, thank you.
TulipPrincess: G’night.
NightTerra: Good night, TulipPrincess.
Paylee22: Sweet dreams.
TulipPrincess has left the chat room.
Instead of logging out, I send Peyton a direct message: Exit to private chat?
She replies: YES! I’ll send you a link.
When the link pops up for the private room, I click it, excited to tell her I watched an episode of Summer’s Story.
Paylee22 has left the chat room.
NightTerra has left the chat room.
There are currently 4 people in the chat room.
THEN
16
A couple of weeks after I got home from the well, Aunt Dessa took me to the grocery store. Despite her obsession with all things healthy, she told me to pick out whatever snacks I wanted, and led me down aisle after aisle, pointing out chips, chocolate, and cartons of ice cream.
As we headed for the checkout, I spotted Jessie’s car pulling into the lot and parking by the entrance. A gaggle of Emo girls burst out the back, laughing at something funny. Jessie lagged behind, pulling on her jacket, trying her best to keep up. I hadn’t seen her since I’d gotten back from the well, but we’d exchanged a few texts just days before:
Omg, Terra!?! I can’t believe what happened!
Is it true? Everything I’m hearing???
Everyone’s talking about it, asking me questions, like if I’ve talked to you and what I saw.
Do you think it was that guy you were talking to at the party?
Omg, you totally should’ve crashed with me at the Theta house.
I’m pretty sure it wasn’t him. He was already questioned.
So was I!!! Which made me feel guilty, even though I wasn’t.
Totally freaky!!!
How are you, btw? People are asking.
Is there anything I can do?
Maybe you could come visit.
Definitely. Just tell me when.
Friday?
Sounds good.
It did sound good. But Jessie never came. And I never called to ask her why. And so, days later, at the grocery store with my aunt, when I spotted Jessie’s car pull into the parking lot, I was looking forward to seeing her.
But the group of Emo girls spotted me first through the window glass.
“Are those friends of yours?” Aunt Dessa asked.
I shook my head because, aside from Jessie, they honestly weren’t. I’d had classes with a couple of them, had gone to group therapy with a few more … But none had been girls I’d spent any real time with.
“Are you sure?” Aunt Dessa persisted. “That dark-haired girl looks a little familiar.”
Hannah Cahill. She blew me kisses.
Juanita, class dancer, came right up to the glass, smooshing her nose against it.
As soon as we stepped outside, the gaggle of girls swarmed me like flies to roadkill. Jessie fought her way to the forefront, wrapping her arms around me. “Hey, friend! I’ve missed you,” she said. “I’m so glad to see you.”
They stood all around me, trembling, teary-eyed, and clutching one another. It took me a beat to realize their tears were for me.
“I’m so relieved you’re okay,” one of them said.
I turned toward the voice, not knowing where to look.
Asia from English class reached out to touch my shoulder.
Juanita couldn’t stop crying.
Betsy from bio held out her potato chips: therapy in a bag.
Their voices competed, talking over one another, mixing together, and stirring
