Her. Part 29

"How do you know?" I asked.

"He's not coming back to hurt us. He's taking a plea deal. He's admitted to his wrong, so he's going to jail and staying there."

"I won't have to see him again?"

"No," she said, relieved that I was talking to her. "Nick and I are going to have to go to court, but it's just to give testimony and for Jack's sentencing. You won't have to be there." She seemed excited while telling me this. "We will be all right, Kristen. I need you to help us. We are going to move out of this place, and we are going to get a new everything. It will be a new beginning for us. Okay?"

I nodded, trusting her. I thought that maybe I could just let it go. That maybe it would be easy.

"Okay, Mom," I said as she reached her arms out to me. "A new beginning." I fell into her arms, where I knew it was safe.

Dr. Pelchat stared at my mother as she finished explaining Jack's sentencing and Nick's testimony.

When she was finished, he asked, "So, Kristen did not get to give her testimony about what she had seen? I mean, after all, she was the one who'd walked in on your ex-husband abusing your son."

Mom shook her head and said, "Because of Jack admitting his wrongdoing, we did not need Kristen getting involved. I wanted to keep her out of it."

"Why?" Dr. Pelchat asked. "Wouldn't it have been good for Kristen to be able to talk to someone about what she had seen?"

"I thought I was doing right by her. I didn't want her to get involved if she didn't need to. She was just a child. The toll it was taking on Nick, all the pressure, and the attorney's questioning. The judge and courts, it would have all taken such a toll on her. I wanted to avoid putting any more stress on the rest of my family if I could help it."

Dr. Pelchat didn't look as though he was satisfied with that answer. He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. Sighing, I could see him trying to hold back judgment.

He finally said, "You see that the pain that Kristen is going through now is a result of your neglect. She should have been allowed to talk to someone. Maybe not the judge, because he had all the evidence and confessions needed to convict and sentence your ex-husband, but Kristen should have been allowed to see a counselor, just like your son did. In fact, all of you - the entire family - should have seen a counselor together, as well as individually."

Mom sat in silence. She looked at me as I sobbed in the chair. I glanced at her, and she rolled her eyes coldly at me. She turned back to Dr. Pelchat.

"How's your son?" he asked Mom. "Does he show any signs of depression, or has he had any suicide attempts?"

Defensively Mom immediately replied, "No! He would never do anything like this girl did!"

The way she said "this girl" made me flinch, as though she had raised her hand to hit me in the head with a blunt object. Mom was upset and getting defensive. Dr. Pelchat must have sensed an argument approaching.

"That's good to hear," he told her. "And now we have to make sure that Kristen gets through this and doesn't do anything like this again."

"I hope so," she said, turning to me again. "We can't go through this again." Her eyes pierced me fiercely.

Dr. Pelchat leaned towards me with a box of tissues. I grabbed them, blew my nose, and cleaned up my face. Dr. Pelchat looked as if he couldn't let something go.

He finally asked Mom, "I'm going to go ahead and take a shot in the dark and ask if you have any idea what may have made Kristen go as far as she did?"

"You mean when she tried to-"

"Yes," Dr. Pelchat responded immediately.

Mom looked at me. Her stern and piercing eyes dared me to speak. She knew what I knew, and she was not going to say it.

She shook her head and said, "It just had to be a lot of things built up inside of her. I'm just glad that she is alive, and now she is getting the helps she needs."

She was still staring at me, piercing me with her eyes. Her act was so good. I knew the truth behind it. She didn't tell him, and she didn't want me to tell him.

Why, Mom? Why?

He opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly his phone rang. He answered, "Dr. Pelchat."

Whoever was on the other end was giving him an earful, because he didn't say a word. He just nodded and sighed. He looked at me and uncrossed his legs impatiently.

Finally, he said, "All right. No worries. See you then." He hung up the phone. He looked at Mom and said, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to say that our time is up for the day."

Mom stood up and started gathering her belongings to leave. Dr. Pelchat a.s.sured her that this would not be our last meeting. He said that, before I was discharged, a final family meeting was required.

Mom seemed relieved to be leaving. Before Dr. Pelchat opened the door, she asked if she could be left alone with me for a moment. Dr. Pelchat looked at me to make sure that I would be all right. I wiped the last of my tears away and nodded at him.

He looked at Mom and said, "I will be right outside the door." He opened the door, and when he stepped out, he shut it behind him.

Mom turned to me and smiled. She said, "You feel better?"

Not knowing how to respond, I just nodded silently.

This frustrated her. She hated when I was not vocal in my responses to her. She moved in closer to me and raised her hand. I flinched, not knowing what to expect.

She laughed. "Relax," she said. She touched my sorry attempt at making a neat ponytail. "You need to use your hair brush." She twiddled my hair and tried to fix the dead ponytail. "Do you need me to bring you anything else when I come back?"

I shook my head, still refusing to speak. It wasn't because I was trying to vex her, because I wasn't. I was just ashamed and felt terrible. She was trying to help me, and she worked so hard, alone, and I only made it harder for her.

"Well, I have to go, Kristen. I have to go and take care of Alison and Nicholas. They need me. You know," she said, with a smile that I didn't quite understand, "in less than a month, you will be eighteen. You will be all grown up, and you will have to be able to take care of yourself."

It somehow felt like she was letting go of me, but I didn't know for sure. She was getting at something. My heart began to race in antic.i.p.ation of what she was going to say.

"Kristen," she said kindly. "It's nothing to be afraid of. You have to grow up. You have to turn eighteen. When you get out of here, you will be fine. I believe that Dr. Pelchat is here to help you, and he said that you are doing well. I know you will be just fine. Just concentrate on getting better and getting out of here. Finish your homework and get those last few lessons out of the way so that you can graduate from home school and you can move on with your life. That's what we want, right? We want a new and better life. It will be a new beginning for you when you are out of here."

She looked at me with so much hope. I couldn't let her down.

I nodded and said, "I'm sorry, Mom."

She smiled and closed her eyes. She spread her arms out and let me fall into them. That was where I felt safe.

"You'll make it up to me. Just get better and get out of here so that we can have you home. Get whatever it is out of your system, now that you have the chance. Lingering over things will just make you sicker. Be strong and be a good example to Nicholas and Alison."

I pulled away and looked at her. She put my face between her hands by placing a palm on each cheek. She said, with that confusing smile, "You don't want to be the example of what they learn what not to do from. You want to be a good, big sister. Okay?"

"Yes," I said. It was true. I did want to be a good, big sister.

She gently pushed me away. Her smile was warm and less confusing now. She was satisfied. Or so I thought. I started to open the door, but she stopped me. She looked into my eyes.

"Kristen," she said. "One last thing. Do you want to tell me why you did this to yourself?" She gestured to my wrists.

Didn't she know? I thought she knew. "I want to tell you," I said. I felt the tears begin to well up again.

"Then tell me," she said warmly and trustingly.

I took a deep breath and thought back to when I'd swallowed the pills and when I'd picked up the knife. I shook my head. Mr. Sharp wanted me to stop. He wanted to grab me and cover my mouth, but I pushed him away as hard as I could.

"Jack's letter," I pushed out.

Mom gasped. She shook her head in disbelief. "No," she said.

"I read it," I admitted.

"Kristen, that has nothing to do with you."

"What about Nick? Mom? Are you going to be there for Jack? I know that he wants you there."

Mom's smile was nowhere to be found. Her eyes were big and her mouth was open.

"I knew it. I knew you had read it. Kristen, is this why? Is this why you are putting us through this c.r.a.p? You should know me better than this. Why would I even..." she took a deep breath to calm herself. "You should have come to me so we could have talked about it."

"Why didn't you tell me about the hearing, Mom?" I asked.

She was stunned in disbelief. "How dare you? I was trying to protect you. Is this the way you treat me? I don't appreciate your tone, either. I have been here for you every single day. I have come here and I have taken care of you. I could just go and not come back until it's time for you to get out of here. Or, if they decide to leave you in here until you are eighteen, then I won't have to come back. Maybe that would make it easier. How would you feel if I did that?"

Fear grew inside me. I shouldn't have spoken up. I should have just nodded my head and agreed with her. It would make it easier on her if they did leave me here or send me to a long-term hospital.

Afraid that was what she was going to let happen, I pleaded, "I'm sorry, Mom. I am sorry. I won't say anything about it to Dr. Pelchat. That's not why I did it. I don't know why I did it. I was scared, or I was just not thinking. I am so sorry. I will make it up to you. I promise."

"Yes, you will," she said to me. She seemed to calm down after my apology. "Just get out of here so that you can come home. Do what you have to do in your groups, take your test, and take your medicine. And, if you do have a Borderline Personality Disorder thing he was talking about, just get through it. Be strong."

"Yes, Mom. I will never do this again and wind up in here again," I told her.

"I know you won't, Kristen," she said. "Because next time you will only have yourself to deal with."

CHAPTER 35.

I knew that there was something inside of me that I wanted to let go of and let die, so that I could move on with my life. I wanted my mother to see that I was not going to cause any more problems, and that I was going to be a good example for Nick and Alison. I had my mind set to do everything I had to do to get out of Bent Creek and not let my family down.

During Morning Group the next day, I volunteered to speak first.

"My name is Kristen. I am in Group Two. Ms. Mosley is our group leader. Our group goal for the day is to respect our peers' opinions in Groups today. And my personal goal for today is to talk more in my Groups."

Dr. Finch looked amazed. He smiled and thanked me for volunteering to speak first.

"It seems like you are doing very well so far with your personal goal."

I smiled, proud of myself. I knew I was doing what I had to do.

Daniel spoke next. "I'm Daniel. I'm in the same group as Kristen, so we have the same group goal. We have to respect each other's opinions. My personal goal is to try to have a good family session today. This is the second try, so I really hope it goes well."

I smiled at him, silently wishing him good luck. He smiled and winked at me before looking down at his shoelaces, but not touching them like he used to. I wished I knew how to wink back. But, if I had tried, Daniel probably would have thought I had gotten something caught in my eye.

I looked over at Janine. Dr. Finch wanted her to speak next. She was in our group, too, so she stated our group goal. Her personal goal was to find out what had happened to Dr. Cuvo. No one commented on that. Dr. Finch seemed as if he wanted to say something to her, but he saw that she was angry and not like her usual self. He moved on to a more interesting piece of work.

"What do I have to say again?" Mena slouched back in her seat with her arms folded across her chest.

Her camouflage, hooded sweater was zipped up, and the hood was pulled over her head.

"Tell us your name, your group goal, and your personal goal for the day," Dr. Finch told her patiently.

She sighed heavily. She seemed sad. "I'm Mena." She looked up at Dr. Finch.

"Now, tell us your goals please, Mena," he requested.

"Daniel already said our group goal, and I don't have a personal goal."

She rolled her eyes away from us. We were all staring at her because she was talking. She must not have liked everyone looking at her so intently.

"That is unacceptable," Dr. Finch said. "Why don't you sit there and think about how you can help improve your situation here. While you think about it, try to figure out what you need to do to accomplish it. Then you will have yourself a personal goal. Just remember, you don't have to try to do it all in one day. You can take it step by step, and day by day. That is why we have personal goals every single day. This is to build us up and get us closer to accomplishing that bigger goal."

"Yeah, the bigger goal. Getting the h.e.l.l out of here," Tai commented.

Everyone laughed, including Dr. Finch. Mena sat still with no expression on her face. She didn't even look annoyed.

When we were finished laughing, Dr. Finch said, "We will come back to you, Mena."

"Whatever," she said.

Dr. Finch's patience had apparently run out with Mena. He pointed towards the door and said, "Go to Ms. Mosley, right now."

"For what?"

"Mena, get out!" he yelled at her.

Mena got up angrily. She shoved her chair back and made it hit the wall behind her. This caused a loud bang that made my ears ring. Janine and I shuddered. Dr. Finch seemed like a calm man, but Mena seemed to have pushed his b.u.t.tons. She stormed out of the room, muttering curses at Dr. Finch.

I already didn't like her.

After breakfast, Dr. Pelchat called me to his office. I sat down with a smile on my face. I was going to keep this up for as long as I could until I got out of here. I could lay it on as thick as believing could make it. He smiled back at me. He was buying it. His cherry, Santa-like cheeks squished under his tiny, blue eyes.

"Are you feeling better today?" he asked me.

I nodded. "Yes. Yesterday was kind of weird. But after that talk we had with my mother, I really feel like things are going to be okay."

"I'm glad you feel that way," he said. "You did very well."