With her gone, the room felt empty. She hadn’t talked too much, mostly just letting me be in my own thoughts. She didn’t questionwhen the tears came, nor did she want to see what I was doodling in the notebook.
One page had some sort of design on it, my hand moving the pencil in zigzags and circles, creating some sort of weird thing. Mostly, it just helped me to center my thoughts, since there were too many and not all at once.
Sighing, I looked around the room, finding nothing to hold my attention. I had gotten so used to sleeping during the day, or at least resting somewhat, just so my body could be used during the late-night hours. Sitting now, feeling more rested than I had in a very long time, I didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t like there was much of anything to do while in a hospital.
By the time I walked to the window, pulling the blinds to try to see out more, there was a knock on the door, saving me from boredom. I turned halfway, waiting to see who it was.
A few heartbeats passed before the door was pushed open. “Koda?” Sarah entered, carrying a bag in one hand. The smell of whatever she brought filled the room, causing my stomach to growl.
“Fries and some chicken nuggets.” She sat it on the bed, then backed away slowly. “Figured you could use some food while we talked.”
I could always use food, I thought. But I also knew not to stuff it all in my mouth too quickly.
I nodded my thanks, walking back to the bed and taking a seat before pulling out the food. The first fry burnt my mouth, but it was so worth it.
“I checked on you before I left this morning,” Sarah started. “You were napping and I didn’t want to wake you. But that social worker will not be working on your case. Depending on what you choose, you’ll have a different one that will work with your best well-being. Now,” she paused, taking a seat in the chair. “Option one, go move in with Dawn. Option two, go to a mental ward, where in fact, you will get all the therapy you need in one place with a great team of doctors to help you recover. Option three, go into foster care. Which, I’ve noticed you’ve already been there off and on since you were six. Which isn’t right at all. Not when you have family members out there that do care.”
I shrugged, biting into a nugget. I was just a kid. It wasn’t like at that age I knew any family members, or what my options were. And if I had, they would most likely not even be heard. Adults tended to look at little kids like we didn’t matter.
“Either option one or three, there will still be counseling, doctor appointments to checkyour eyes, teeth and overall health. Therapy will be needed either way, too. You’ve been through a lot, and there are professional people who can and will help with what you’ve been through.”
I didn’t need that help. So, I just lifted a shoulder.
“I know,” Sarah sighed. “Not everyone likes the idea of talking to a stranger. Even for those that don’t talk, it still can be a scary thought.” She paused, letting the words sink in as I finished off the fries. I gave the carton a sad look, almost wishing I could make more appear. “You’ll also have to be registered for school.”
I made a face at that, which caused Sarah to bark out a laugh. I definitely wanted to be done with school. I didn’t need it. it wasn’t like I’d learn anything to live in the world by being stuck with a bunch of nosey kids.
“Sorry, kiddo. You will have to be in some sort of school. Fourteen-year-olds don’t just drop out, and I’m pretty sure Dawn would agree. But there’s options for that too. Homeschool instead of public.”
Turning back to the food, I ignored what she said. I knew she was right, but it didn’t mean I wanted to do either option.I’d gone this long without any learning. I could read, so what was the point of going?
“That’ll be something you’ll get to once you start a plan for healing, not just physically, but mentally. And something your caregiver and a therapist will work together to figure out more options.”
Blah. More options. I made a face. I was starting to not like that word.
“I know. Being free gives too many options to find yourself. Such a first world tragedy.”
Was that meant as a joke?I looked up, tilting my head.
“So, I’ve laid the options out for you,” she went on. “Whichever one you go with, the outcome will most likely be the same, hopefully. The entire goal is for you to have a safe place where no harm will come to you. And with it, there will be other challenges that will come up. Like, telling your story so a therapist can help. Even if it’s to write it down.”
My gaze shot to the notebook. Has that been the idea of it all along? For me to write out my past so someone could understand?
“I promise, I just want the best for you, as does Dawn. Whichever way you go.”
I was already leaning towards one option, but was it the right one? Well, technically two, but I was smart enough to know that running off wouldn’t work out too well just yet. That’d stay as my back up plan. I never wanted to land back in the hands of menwho only wanted one thing from me. Heck, I didn’t ever want to be with a man in the same room again to begin with.
After a few seconds of debating with myself, I slowly reached for the notebook and pen. I flipped to the second page, seeing where the marks had bled through already from my doodling.
Sarah waited patiently as I wrote one thing, crossed it off, and rewrote something else. I wasn’t going to say much of anything, but for some reason, knowing someone did care, at least a tiny little bit, helped push me forever.
Dawn. No men. Men hurt.
I showed Sarah, letting her read the short words before I slapped it upside down. There could have easily been a million things to say, but the words wouldn’t come. Not in a way that could possibly make sense to someone who was all but a stranger.
“Thank you. I’ll do everything I can to make sure no man is alone with you.” She sounded like she meant it, too. “I can easily assume how men have hurt you for years on end. It makes sense now why Dan and you didn’t mix.” Oh, that must have been the social worker’s name. “But Dawn had told me what she overheard anyhow and he won’t be having his job anymore. No one should have talked toyou like that. Not with the evidence that shows how abused you’ve been.”
I lifted a shoulder with a sniff. I was used to it.
