Just Like Magic

Chapter 2 Therapy For Me, Sucks

Randalyn's POV

I'm feeling offended by all the questioning that seems to be making me feel even worse about my actions, as if I was doing all this wrong stuff to myself.. When, in fact, we all know I wasn't the one causing this.. or at least I hope they know.. but by them questioning my every motive, maybe they don't know. "Ok... let me ask a few more questions about your father." She says as if this isn't tormenting me enough in so many ways already. I shake my head in protest of that awful idea, then yell at her. "No... no more!" Putting my foot down on this session. I stand up just wanting to run full speed out of this place. But I don't see that happening when I know that the wall of reporters are out there just waiting for me like a flock of vultures for their prey.

Her hands shoot straight up, stopping me from leaving this room. I start to hyperventilate as my eyes go wide and my hands land straight on my chest. "Ok... ok.. calm down. Just take some deep breaths.. come on breathe with me, Randy." I nod as I take her advice by doing multiple breathing exercises and just hoping I don't pass out as a result. I breathe in, letting the air soothe me before letting it out. The wave of serenity that hits me, lets me know it was working... or I'm about ready to pass out.. but either way, I'll be done with this. I do this a couple more times while keeping these routines going, until my heart is starting to finally slow down. I'm feeling slightly better.. but I'm not out of the room yet, so that's not exactly helping.

"I'm sorry I never meant to overwhelm you like this.. But this is something we both need to complete... So I'm sorry to say Randy... but you can't leave until we get these questions properly answered." She almost spats at me, still looking annoyed by my response, making me want to run right out the door.. but she is right, if I don't finish this now then I'll have to come back and do this again. That's the last thing I want to do.

I vigorously nodded at her, showing I would continue. No matter how badly I don't want to... so she nods back as she states. "Well, then what would you like to talk about? Your mother?" She asks me and that subject isn't much better than the last one. I shake my head but I know I have to at some point. So I quickly responded, "I saw her this morning," I replied this under my breath as I slowly sat back down on the uncomfortable little suede couch while she quickly replied. "I heard.. so what happened?"

"Well, if you heard then you should already know what happened." I declared to her with just as much sass as she is giving me. But that answer doesn't satisfy her and I knew that was going to be the case. I feel myself getting frustrated at having to play her little game. I roll my eyes and groan out before giving her the answer she is fishing for.

"The police finally found her hiding in the house trying to pin the murder on me. They asked me to identify her since she was lying, saying she was just a squatter who chose the wrong house... So, since I was still in their custody, at least until they can get it confirmed with blood samples, they had me confirm it was her.. But she did make it difficult for them, since she changed everything about the way she looked.. she cut her hair and dyed it, wore make-up and her clothing style was different for sure. Nothing a squatter really would wear, but she was never the smartest person." I declare, as my body seems to automatically stiffen at the thought of my mother.

I notice her hand quickly moving as she writes down some notes before asking more. "Well, how did you feel after seeing her?" I shrug my shoulders thinking about that. "I don't know how I feel about it right now because I want to feel bad since she has obviously been through a lot by the bruises left on her face... but then I just think about all my wounds she chose to ignore for her husband's abusive sake and that made me not feel even remotely bad for her after that thought. So, when I saw her today, I felt my whole body going into overdrive, being fueled by the anger she incited within me. When we made eye contact, I couldn't help but to let all that anger out by screaming at her. I honestly felt like I wasn't myself, like I had no control over my body." I say to her as her eyes widen, but her pen doesn't stop moving over the paper.

"What did you say to her?" I rolled my eyes at that.. what does she think I said to her? Hey, miss ya mom! How are ya? No, not even close to what I would want to say... It wasn't good to see her, and when I did make eye contact, I let the anger take over, but I'm honestly not ashamed about what I said, I just wish there weren't a million witnesses to my trauma.

"I... I screamed at her, saying... Why didn't she step in when he hit me? Why didn't she protect me as a mother should? How could she let him sexually assault me every night? How could she let him wander off for hours to torment me and not blink an eye? How did she not question what he was doing or his whereabouts? Especially when I tried to tell her what he was doing, but she ignored it. I could feel my heart racing as I thought about the casual look she wore on her face, even as I broke down in front of her." I explained as best as I could without breaking down once again.

"Did she say anything to you in response to all of your inquiries?" she asks me as I feel silent tears falling from my eyes. I wipe away the tears as I respond. "Yes.. she laughed... and said she did do something.. she admitted to killing him in front of everyone," I explain as she hums and writes in her notebook.

"How does that make you feel knowing she did that for you?" I scoffed while shaking my head before thinking about just that. "I don't think she did it for me and I told her that I know she didn't do that for me... I think she did it because of the hatred she had built only for him and me over the years.. and she confirmed just that for me in her reply. She yelled back that she didn't do that for me... That I was just the little c*nt that stole her husband... She said that since the day I was brought home, that he had forgotten about her and only wanted me to give all of his attention to... He did everything with me like he used to do with her apparently.. from the shopping, to working together, to the showers and the nightly visits.. But she was just jealous of me getting the attention she craved for. Not seeing how wrong this whole thing was for me at every angle you look at. And somehow, through all the crying, complaining and attitude from me, she began to hate me for what he chose to do.. She felt jealous of my presence no matter how many times I told her I didn't like what he was doing, and still hated me while wanting to do something about it for herself.. not for me.. she knew what had been happening to me for years and never stopped it.. she was the one that put make-up on my wounds so no one would notice at my school.. she was the one that made me wear long sleeves so nothing would be said.. she was the one that told me to keep my mouth shut or I would get it worse when I get home... she was the one who let this happen and knew about it the entire time and still asked me to say nothing... I don't know if she knew what he did to me sexually, but believe me, I tried to talk to her about it many times and she quickly denied and dismissed anything I had to say." I declare, throwing out all my observations over the years, proving how I knew all of this for sure, without any doubt. Whether she chose to believe me or not.

The concern in her eyes is what really gets to me. She looks terrified as if she never expected any of that answer... But even with the gray hair, she looks young. So maybe she hasn't run into many of these problems around here yet... It is a small town and everyone knows everybody. So maybe she was just shocked they would do this... I don't know.

She clears her throat before saying with no confidence behind her words, "It's ok though, because he is gone, so now is the time to get going on the new path to recovery. We will address these issues over and over again until you start to let them go... you have to remember that it's not you that had a problem, it's just something bad that happened to you.. So you can't let this situation define you and who you are. You can get past this, showing everyone that you won't let this cripple you and finally get to be who you are meant to be." She says this with so much encouragement in her words that I almost believed it.

"Oh, it's just that easy huh? Thanks... But the things I can't forget are the parts of him left behind and embedded in me forever.. like the wounds from him torturing me daily, or the yelling and shame he engraved in my brain every single day with every decision I made. The disgust he made me feel every single day, with not just him but myself... I'm not going to be able to easily get through this as you think.. this is all easier said than done... Especially since the only 'support' I had threw myself under the bus because of her jealousy... but like I have said before, I hate talking about it and I don't think that it will make anything any easier for me." She starts to shake her head to prove to me why I'm wrong. But my hand shoots up to stop her.

"Just wait.. let me explain... For example, do people who come home from war with PTSD and after talking about what happened over and over again, just get over it? No probably not." I spat at her. I know I didn't go through war and killing anyone, but my body would tell a different story.

"They learn to deal with the feelings it brings that help them to get past it.. but no, I don't think they will ever get completely over it, just like you probably won't get completely past it... I'm not trying to offend you, Randy, I'm just trying to show you that you can have a stable life with people and be happy while doing it." She declares to me but this just hurts my heart thinking about that statement.

I don't know if I can do that honestly... I don't even know how I made it this far in life.. This doesn't help, because the idea of being with someone right now sounds repulsive. I want to be happy just like anyone else in this world... but my stepfather ruined any idea of how I should be treated behind closed doors... that I don't know if I would even like to have anyone around, let alone try to have a relationship either.

"I will be fine.. on my own." I declare with pride, but we both know that it will fade away soon enough. "You don't have to do it alone though," she states but seeing the glare that I sent her way after that, she knows that won't work on me. "Ok.. Where will you be staying.. now that you can't go back to your house?" She asks sounding so concerned for me, but I just shrug my shoulders. "I don't know if it matters," I say under my breath to myself, but she hears me and responds anyways. "It matters to me... I need to make sure that you're ok and taken care of... I know the police offered to set you up with a hotel for a little bit but I also heard you turned them down." She nonchalantly says, but I don't trust the police any more than I trusted my family. So I don't care what they offered I'm not accepting it.

"I'll be fine... I have to get going because I have to get changed for work tonight." I said, standing up quickly and she does the same while checking her watch. "But you still have 30 minutes. And Randy I don't think its best to work today." She declared to me as she looked outside, then back to me. "I'm fine thanks.. have a good night." I waved as I headed out of her office. There are multiple people waiting to be seen, but once they see my face, their expressions instantly change to pity-filled ones. I hate that look more than anything. I roll my eyes as I groan out and turn away from everyone to head out the back way.

"Did you need an umbrella? Money for food or anything? You should probably just go out front. There is a police vehicle ready to escort you to where you need to go... which should probably be the police station to make sure you have everything you need for tonight." She instructs me, as I shake my head and wave, showing her I won't be doing any such things. "Well, I do have to call them and let them know that you're done with me." She states to me but I don't care what she does. So I gave her a thumbs up while making my way towards the back door, trying to ignore the stares from everyone. Especially the people who look like they want to talk to me about it.. That's the last thing I want to do with another stranger.. I just wish they would leave me alone.

I sneak outside hoping I won't get any attention brought back to me since, their sights are set on the front door. It's crazy how fast bad news travels in this place. What's even more mindblowing is the waves of people with cameras waiting to be able to insult me to my face while prying into my horrid life. There is no way I'm dealing with that hoard of reporters when I was just interrogated like a criminal.. I don't need to be kicked anymore while I'm down.

I sneak through the muddy alleyway, getting away faster than I expected until I'm just jogging, not trying to make too much noise but wanting to get as far away as I can before I'm seen. I looked around every corner before I see the secretary of the therapist's building. She is talking with the big crowd of people. Once she is done talking, I can see that people are looking around and reporters are now dispersing from the building. They must've been told that I had already left. I can see from across the way that some people are looking around and waiting because they obviously don't believe them.. But I watch as others start to really look around. That's my queue to keep going before I'm spotted. I keep going until I get a dark corner where I can stop for a moment to get a breath of fresh air and enjoy this rain.

I lean against the wooden fence as I keep my face angled up to face the sky, letting the raindrops caress my face as they calm me down without missing a beat. I run my hands through my wet hair, just loving this feeling. At least there is something to help ease my mind before I have to get this show back on the road to my work. I am soaked to the bone by all this hard rain and I'm supposed to work tonight, but not being able to access any of my things at the moment, since my house is a crime scene, is making the situation very difficult. Especially since I can't access my room out of all places, because it holds all of my stepfather's DNA, so this makes it so I can't even get a change of clothes.

I don't even want to go to work tonight, so it will be tough... But I guess I'll just have to wing it for tonight just so I can get some money to take me somewhere.. maybe I could leave town... sneak on a plane in the cargo area to take me out of here.. Whatever to help me get out of this place. But the first step to the rest of my life is getting money.. Then the rest will come.

I huff out as I look up and down the quiet streets, feeling more alone than I ever have... Yes, my home sucked, but it was still a home.. So knowing I have nowhere to go makes me feel so empty. It's scary and something I don't know if I can deal with. But I guess there is only one way to find out. My cell phone rings in my pocket so I quickly grab it out to see it's my boss calling. "Yes, Sandra.. what can I do for you?" I ask her trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Randy?! I heard what happened on the news! Are you ok? Do you need money, a place to stay? Anything?" she asks, making me feel so embarrassed like I'm the biggest burden because of my pathetic life that was broadcast for everyone to see. This is big news. This doesn't happen in our tiny little town or even this area. So they are not wasting any time when it comes to reporting the suspenseful drama. I feel pathetic and ashamed knowing everyone in this town knows about this now.. That thought alone makes me want to run for the hills and leave this place forever.

"I'm fine.. don't worry about me," I say trying to act as if I'm not even remotely phased by this. I don't want to look any more pathetic and weak than I already do, so I quickly respond. "I will be in soon.. don't worry."

"No way! Are you kidding me?! You were raped and attacked by your stepfather and left for dead as your mother killed him in the house.. no way are you coming in here and working... you need time to recover Randy!" she states in my defense, which I greatly appreciate, but I am craving distraction. "I'm fine! I'm fine.. stop babying me." I yell not at her, but just about the situation. I'm stressed and don't know where to go from here.. I have been violated and tormented for so many years that it's almost normal for me but still new to everyone else.

"You're not fine.. take a couple of weeks off! You need time to get through this." She states making it sound like I haven't been trying to take care of this already. "No, I need money so I can get into a place to even try to take care of myself.. Please I need to work tonight Sandra," I beg of her and she notices this so quickly she agrees. "As long as you think you will be fine... I don't want you to stress yourself out and if you need to go, you tell me and we will take care of it... But the only way I will let you stay, is if you seem ok.. if there are any problems you will be sent home ok?" I sit there thinking about it for a long moment. "Ok, that's fine."

"Ok deal then.. see you soon." She declares hanging up the phone call.