Little Tastes of Red Mire

(5) Saving Nila: Innocent

Before y'all read this chapter, please know that I don't know anything about the kind of help a person would need in the case that they went through a situation even similar. This is fiction and Nila's problems are ones I wanted to deal with in a certain manner -- this was my way of helping a character cope. If you, or anyone you may know, has been harmed or is being harmed, please contact professional help. 

xKay

Nila 

Month One & Two 

Startling yellow eyes met mine in a no bullshit manner, meticulously styled eyebrows furrowed in an unbelieving slope in my direction. My hands were clenched together painfully in my lap, back ramrod stiff as I stared unblinkingly back at the vile creature in my wake, secretly hating every inch of her impeccably dressed body, from her Jimmy Choos to her Armani sack dress. Dr. Susan Taylor was the biggest bitch I'd ever met and despite the fact that I'd rather eat nails than admit this outloud, I knew she was going to save my life. 

We met twice a week, at least, and each time I was not allowed to bring in Cammie, instead had to swallow every bit of paralyzing fear and allow her to sit out in the waiting room in the arms of the man who'd encouraged me to come meet the miracle worker his mother had suggested. While the pair of them waited on me, I sat fighting every instinct I had, haltingly allowing small truths to slip off my tongue. Month one had been the hardest for me, especially with Dr. Taylor being as aggressive as she was -- I had briefly read up on dealing with sexual assault victims and all forums pointed to patience, gaining trust, honesty and openness -- except this was the exact opposite of what she had done. She pushed, took no half -assed answers, and somehow I knew it was exactly what I needed. According to her, I was aware of the problem I had but was unwilling to admit it to anyone but myself, even though holding it back was slowly killing me. We approached my problem head on. 

The first step had been admitting it -- to her. 

My throat had seized, air caught as I opened my mouth to speak. The words didn't want to come out even as I willed my tongue to move. Clammy hands gripped at the edge of my shirt, tugging the soft fabric anxiously as my heart throbbed in my chest. I could feel the need to suck in air, the urge to run making my legs tingle with anticipation. I didn't want to say it, but I knew I needed to. Those three words stuck in my chest, they were slowly dousing the flame within and soon it would be gone -- old Nila, strong Nila, she'd be gone forever. But admitting those words to someone else made them so much more real. The act, the memories, the pain. Was I ready for that? I already suffered from paralyzing nightmares that made me not want to sleep for days on end, made me want to scream as I woke. 

It had been as I was about to chicken out that she spoke again, her tone so soft I was fearful it had just been a hallucination. 

"This isn't just for you, Nila. It's for Cammie, too."  Cammie, my precious baby, who I could've harmed due to my resistance to sleep. Because of nightmares. Because of them and what they'd done. 

The dam had broken with that statement. Tears, snot, hiccups, and finally, finally the words that needed to be said. 

"They raped me." 

Month Three & Four 

"You're glaring at me again, Nila." Dr. Taylor said, eyeing me with an unreadable emotion in those demon yellow eyes. Of course I was glaring at her. I could hear my child crying out in the hall making every one of my mommy instincts go haywire and the devil in front of me wouldn't allow me to leave. I knew it wasn't dire, I knew my child's cries, this was just her being generally fussy, but that combined with not wanting to be stuck in this room with my therapist was enough to make my anger spike. Fear masquerading as anger, that is. Today was the day she wanted to push me a little more -- admitting it had been one thing, talking about the incident had been another. I still hadn't warmed up to the idea in the weeks that she'd been warning me to prepare myself.