Choosing to Trust

*Trigger Warning*
Leah
I sat on the bench next to Ramira for a moment before lowering my head. My heart was hurting for Mister. He wanted to save the people who needed to be saved the most, and here I was willing to throw away the very opportunity that I wanted because I didn’t want to face my past. I didn’t want to be in the same position that Mister was in—not wanting to live simply because I was too afraid of losing someone. I didn’t want to lose anymore. I wanted to learn to live. To love. That definitely sounded much better to me.
“For my mother’s entire pregnancy, my parents were told that I was a boy,” I said softly. “When my mother gave birth to me and they found out that I was a girl, my mother and father’s relationship went downhill. My father started beating on my mother because, somehow, the fact that I was a girl was her fault, as well as mine.”
I closed my eyes. “He never let either of us forget it. Every time she got pregnant, he would beat her so badly that she would lose the baby. My mother was okay with not having any more children. After having me, she gave up. She didn’t want to be alive anymore. She let him control everything about her life—from the clothes she wore to the food she ate. He even controlled when she could use the bathroom. If my father didn’t want her to move, she wouldn’t. She became so petrified of him that she would even pee on herself sometimes, which only earned her another beating.”
A whimper escaped my lips as memories of watching my mother be beaten by my father played through my mind. My fingers tightened around the edge of the bench.
“One day, while he was out trying to have another child with another woman, my mother snuck out to have her tubes clipped and cauterized. She was gone for a week. So was my father. I was only five at the time.”
Ramira gently removed my hand from around the edge of the bench, linking our fingers together. “How did you survive?” She asked me softly.
I lowered my head even more. “I went to my neighbor’s house. He was a member of the cult my parents were involved in. He believed that the younger a girl was, the better a wife she would make. He took care of me for that week, and in return, I had to take care of him, too.”
I fell silent when shame and the feeling of helplessness started choking me. My chest constricted painfully as I remembered the way his sweaty, wrinkled, and hairy penis smelt as he shoved it in my face. I quickly tugged my hand away, jumped up and ran a few feet from where we were seated to hurl. I sank to my knees, vomiting, while hyperventilating a little. Ramira knelt behind me, rubbing my back.
“Take your time,” she murmured to me softly.
I shook my head. “I don’t want to talk about this,” I confided. “I don’t want to unbury this box.”
“Only share what you want to share. We can take a break if you like. I can take you back to Eden and come back in a few days’ time. This is your journey, Phoenix. I’m just a passenger in your vehicle, coming along for the ride. You lead me wherever you need to go.”
I took a deep breath before shifting so that I was lying on the ground on my back, looking up at the sky. “I don’t want to be like Mister,” I admitted. “His life sounds so sad.”
She lay down next to me. “It wasn’t always sad,” she said. “He used to laugh and joke around. He used to enjoy life. When he first met Diadra, he always had a smile on his face. He really is a good guy, Phoenix. He created this world for all of you to heal in a place where you could feel safe.”’
I turned toward her. “So, if he expects us to heal, why doesn’t he allow himself to do the same?”
“Because, Leah, sometimes people don’t think they deserve to heal. They hold onto the pain to keep reminding themselves that they’re still alive. It has no rhyme or reason, but it is what they do.”
“Has anybody ever tried to help him?” I asked.
“I’ve been trying to help him for years. He’s not ready to let her memory go yet.” She took my hand again. “But I have some hope that now he might see that all his misperceived mistakes are what’s keeping him from living and that he can forgive himself.”
“Why now?” I asked curiously.
She squeezed my hand. “Because now, there’s a woman that he looks at like he used to look at her. She might be the only person that can bring him back to life.”
“And how would she do that?” I asked.
She rolled towards me. “She heals. And in doing so, she teaches him to heal as well.”
“Are you referring to me?” I inquired hesitantly.
“Yes, I am, Leah.”
I closed my eyes as a new wave of emotions flowed through my body. I was in complete shock at what she had just told me. She thought I could help Mister heal? I wasn’t as confident about that as she sounded. Before I could help anyone, I had to get better myself.
“I don’t know how to help anyone heal.” I admitted.
“It’s not something you have to know how to do, Leah. It’s something you feel in your heart. But don’t worry about him. For now, focus on yourself.”
I took a deep breath. “My neighbor made me give him oral sex and handjobs. When I didn’t want to touch him, he would hit me. There were times when I thought he was going to kill me. When my parents got back from their individual activities, they actually thanked him for watching over me. For starting my training. They started sending me to him every time I got into trouble. When my mother got back, she started treating me differently. She would weigh me weekly and would take a sharpie to circle all the parts of my body that weren’t perfect in her eyes. When I was 13, it got really bad. My father started joining her in judging my body. I wasn't sure how it was possible, but he was even more cruel in his observations than my mother was. He started teaching me how to be a ‘good wife.’ I wasn’t allowed to speak unless spoken to first. I wasn’t allowed to eat unless he told me that I could. I slept when he said I could; I took care of the house and I cooked.”
I stopped for a moment to try to calm my anxiety before continuing. “When I was 15, I accidentally walked in on my mother whipping herself. Before then, I didn’t understand where all her injuries were coming from. When I asked her why she did it, she simply said that she had burned dinner.”
I closed my eyes even tighter. “She said, ‘Leah, your husband won’t always be around to punish you when you mess up. Sometimes it will lessen the punishment you will receive from your husband if you show that you are aware of your wrongdoings by extracting your own punishment.’ That is why I punish myself sometimes. She was right. The more I punished myself, the less my husband hit me. Well, maybe not the number of times he hit me, but it definitely lessened the harshness of his beatings.”
“My husband, Will, was very controlling. He was a member of the cult I was in. My father sold me to him as soon as I came of age. For the longest time, I didn’t fight back. I just submitted to everything that Will wanted me to do. I probably would have stayed and let him continue to treat me like a piece of gum stuck on the bottom of his shoes had he not brought Darcy home. I would tell him that I didn’t know how to please a man, but I did. I just didn’t enjoy it. There was no passion in it for me. A passion that I didn’t know existed until I read a book snippet of a woman so in love with her man that she would have done anything for him.”
I paused as my face heated. “It described the many ways a male could please his woman. It left very little to the imagination as to how it felt to have an orgasm. I want that kind of love. I want that kind of passion. I don’t want to be the brainwashed, terrified, submissive girl I was before I came here. I want to wake up and know that, at some point in my day, passion will reign.”
Ramira chuckled beside me. “Passion is definitely a great thing to have, and you will have it. As you move through your healing journey, you will gain confidence. You will begin to stand up for yourself. Eden is a great place to start that journey. It is safe, and nobody will harm you here. Every person here stood in your shoes at some time or another. They have found themselves, their peace, and tranquility, and the lucky ones have even found love. You’ll see that the journey isn’t as hard as you think it might be. You will do very well here. Just stick with it.”
I opened my eyes to stare at the sky again. “I’m definitely going to try.”
“It won’t be perfect. But whatever you do, just don’t give up.”
“Okay. I think I’m ready to go back now. For not doing anything, I am overly tired.”
“Emotions are often harder to deal with than physical tasks are,” she told me as she pulled me to my feet. “I’m very proud of you for facing your past. I’m not going to force you to meet with me again, but if you feel like you need to talk, just tell R.H.M. and he will contact me.”
“Thank you.”
As we walked back to the gate, she made small talk about Eden and told me stories of her childhood, making me giggle at the antics of her and her siblings. Whenever she spoke about R.H.M., I listened intently. When we got back to Mister’s office, I gave her a hug.
“Thank you for coming to speak to me. I’m sorry about my freaking out earlier,” I whispered.
“It’s okay, Phoenix. Have a good evening.”
I nodded at Dale before rushing back toward my house. I wanted to shower, collapse into bed, and cry while I held my Sugar girl. Hours after I had crawled into bed, clinging to Sugar, long after I stopped crying, I still couldn’t fall asleep. The story Ramira told me about Diadra and Mister kept playing in my mind on repeat. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I raised my wrist to my face, deploying the button on my monitor.
“R.H.M.?”
“Yes, Phoenix?”
I took a deep breath before quickly saying what I wanted to, so I didn’t have time to chicken out. “I’m not sure if this is against the rules, but I really don’t want to be alone tonight. Can you come over and sleep next to me?”