I’m sitting out in the hallway, because I really don’t feel like facing Justin’s shrink this morning. I know I must look like hell, because I only got about an hour of sleep last night, and I know if Madison saw me this way she would start asking me all kinds of questions. It’s not my fault I couldn’t sleep. I felt funny drinking myself to sleep in Justin’s house, with Trace right down the hall. It didn’t feel right…like, I would have felt disrespectful doing it. For the first time in a long time, I tried to get to sleep the old fashioned way. I kept all the lights on, and covered up and closed my eyes. But I should have known that my plan was doomed from the start. I had the damn Saturday morning dream again. It was really intense this time though. Shane was there, and I actually saw him doing stuff to Justin. And Justin, he was crying out, begging for Shane to stop…but Shane wouldn’t stop and I was too frightened to pull him off of Justin. Then I woke up, cold, sweaty, and gasping for air. The numbers on the clock were glowing a bright red 6:45...

And then the phone started to ring.

Trace wouldn’t’ tell me what happened. The whole car ride up here, his gaze was intensely set on the road, and his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, turning his knuckles a sort of reddish-white color. I tried to get something out of him though. I didn’t like being totally clueless as to why we had to rush up here so damn early in the morning. When Trace took the exit leading into Orange Valley and stopped at a red light, that’s when he started to talk to me. He told me he didn’t want to tell me everything, because then he wouldn’t’ be able to drive the rest of the way. I told him I would drive, but he shook his head. He said if he didn’t’ drive, he would probably throw up. So I sat back and said it was okay. I told him to tell me whatever he could, even if it didn’t make sense. I think my comment put his mind as ease a little, because after that…he just started to ramble on and on about how fucked up it was that Justin has to go through all of this. He said something happened to Justin in the middle of the night, and that he didn’t know what kind of state we were going to find him in when we got there. Naturally, I got up the guts to ask what happened again, but Trace wouldn’t’ go there. I pretended to understand though, and the rest of the ride was mostly silent.

“Kerri.”

I pick my head up out of my hands, and glance at Madison’s doorway, which has been closed for a good hour now. She and Trace have been in there all this time, talking about whatever happened to Justin last night. I thought I could hear Trace raise his voice a few times, and once I almost got up to go inside and see what was wrong, but of course I chickened out.

Madison is standing in the now open door way, clip board in hand…fake look of sympathy spread across her face. I roll my eyes. She’s going to try and evaluate me now, just like she did the other day. I groan. I’m not here for that. I will not be evaluated at 9:30 in the morning. “What,” I mutter. “Are you here to antagonize me again?”

She shakes her head and sits down in the chair beside me. “I need to tell you a few things, before I can let you see Justin.”

“Who says I want to see him,” I grunt. “Trace dragged me up here, you know. He’s the one that wants to see him. Just leave me out of it.”

“I know all of this has been very hard for you,” she says, practically ignoring my comment. “And I know you and Justin are going through a very confusing time in your friendship. But please believe me when I say…you are probably the key to his rehabilitation. I need you to stop thinking about the past, and focus on what‘s going on right now. He needs you to be his friend right no.”

I shake my head in annoyance. “I don’t get this,” I snap. “I don’t even know what the hell is going on. Nobody tells me anything. They just drag me out here and expect me to get it, because I was there with him. Now granted, I know that a lot of sick shit happened to Justin, but that doesn’t mean I understand okay? I’m just as confused as Trace is…as his family is. And…then I have to deal with what I went through on top of it.” I rub my face with my hands, and feel my face begin to burn. I’m starting to cry, and I hate it, but I can’t stop myself. “I don’t sleep. I hardly eat. I don’t’ go out. I just…I’m dead okay? They didn’t need to shoot me to make me this way.”

I feel her hand rubbing my back in a circular motion, as I let my emotions out. Siobhan does this to me a lot, especially when I’m really drunk and sobbing like a fool. It feels good, but I don’t want to let her in. Letting her in is letting my guard down. I pull away from her. “Just stop,” I sob. “Stop it.”

I feel her hand leave my back. “Can I please talk to you now?” she asks.

I slowly pick my head up out of my hands. Why tell her no? She’ll only sit here and state the reasons why I should let her talk to me anyway. I shrug. “Talk,” I sniffle, and wipe my nose and eyes with the back of my sleeve.

“I‘m telling you this in confidence, Kerri. Trace is listed as one of Justin's Lifelines, meaning he has the right to speak for Justin when he can’t speak for himself, and he has given me his permission to share this with you. We both feel that you are key to Justin's recovery, and it‘s vital that you know all of the details.” She stares at me for a brief moment, but when I don’t say anything, she continues on. “I want you to understand though, that the patient/doctor privilege is a sacred thing. I would hope you wouldn’t be compelled to tell anybody what I’m about to tell you.”

I blink. “If it’s a secret maybe you should just keep your mouth shut,” I whisper. I feel my skin start to crawl, and I wrap my arms around myself protectively. Deep down, I know what she’s about to tell me. I don’t want her to tell me.

She doesn‘t hesitate. “Justin was raped.”

I don’t say anything. I can’t. If I open my mouth, I might end up vomiting all over this nice shiny floor. It’s true. I could deny it before, but I can’t anymore. It’s really true, and there’s nothing I can do to change that fact. “Why?,” I hear myself ask, stupidly. “It wasn’t enough that he beat the shit out of him? He had to take his dignity too?” I start to cry openly, loudly. She pulls me close to her, and normally I would push her away. But I’m too overcome with emotion to care right now. I’m numb. I feel responsible. We were fighting in the basement…and I screamed at him, and then Shane put me in that shed. That’s when it happened; Shane raped him while I was locked up. The intensity of it all overwhelms me, and I feel nauseated. I realize that Madison is still holding me, and I pull away from her. “Bathroom?,” I sob. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Right there,” she murmurs, and points to a doorway across the hall.

I shoot out of my chair, and rush inside the bathroom. I pause at the first sink I come in contact with, and lean over it. I glance at myself in the mirror, and hate the person staring back at me. She’s a mixture of fatigue, fear, and sadness. She doesn’t know what to do for her friend. What can she do? How can she ever understand what it was like for him…being forced to have intercourse with the same sex? I look down into the sink and ask myself the same questions. What can I do? How can I understand? Hell, will he even allow me to understand? I think…I try to focus…I close my eyes.

I open my eyes. It all makes sense now. The way he cowered in the corner of the basement. How he told me not to touch him anymore. “Oh god,“ I whimper. A sharp pain shoots through my stomach, and I brace myself against the sink.

Then breakfast comes back to greet me.

*************

The color of the door is a dark rustic brown. The door to the basement was almost the same color, but the paint was chipping and there were dent marks where somebody had probably kicked it in. I remember it clearly. I remember the sound it made when it was being opened. That hollow creaking sound, like the hinges hadn’t been oiled in years. I remember the sharp clicking sound the lock made when it was being opened. I remember those stairs. Made of stone…dirty and grimy, like the rest of that little cellar. I remember the mattress, and the itchy wool blanket, provided for comfort. Comfort. There was no comfort in that place. Only when I was in the safety of Justin’s strong arms, could I even begin to feel protected.

I long to be in them again.

Justin is on the other side of that door. Trace and Madison walked me down here, but when I asked them to go inside with me Madison said no. I felt like I was being abandoned, but Madison’s explanation was that Justin wasn’t ready to deal with all three of us at the same time. She said that Trace would have his time later, but that right now I was the only person he needed. Then Trace sort of nodded, and said “Go ahead.” I was sure he was going to break down in front of me, so I turned my back.

And when I turned around again I was alone.

It’s been a good half hour since then, and I still can’t bring myself to go in there. Hell, I can’t even touch the door. I’m so scared. I don’t know what will happen if I go in there. I’m not prepared to face Justin, in his torn apart state of mind. Madison told me the reason he’s so messed up today. Apparently his roommate decided he wanted to try Justin out for himself, and he tried to rape him. He would have succeeded too if he hadn’t beaten the hell out of him. Fucking sick. This place is fucking sick. How could they put Justin in the same room with a molester, a pervert? God, he must be a wreck, so confused, so scared…like the day we got out of that fucking house. Nobody can really understand how he feels, because they weren’t there with him…

But I was there with him.

I lean my back against the wall, and stare up at the ceiling. My bottom lip quivers. I’m trying to make a good decision. I guess I need to go in there and try to help him, because I‘m the one that can relate to him the most right now. But will Justin even want me there? Hell, I don’t know. It could be bad…I could end up filling his head with all of those horrible memories, and that’s the last thing he needs. If that happens, he’ll start to yell at me and blame me for fucking with his head. Then I’ll break down, I know I will, and then Justin will go into a deeper depression. But I can’t go back to Madison’s office empty handed. Trace will be there, and he’d be so disappointed in me. I know he’s counting on me to do this…for the both of us. Suck it up, Kerri. I take a deep breath. In and out…out and in. I smooth my hair back, and make sure my blouse is neat and tidy. I want to look presentable right now, but I don’t know why. I guess I’m doing it for him. I want him to have confidence in me. I want him to trust me again.

I put my hand on the doorknob, and after a minute or ten, I manage to turn it and push the door open. My stomach is in knots, and I can practically feel the vomit making its way out of my stomach and up towards my throat. I know I could probably run out of here and puke all over again, but then I see him. Justin is curled in a ball on the bed, his arms drawn protectively to his chest. His eyes are open, but I don’t think he knows I‘m here. He looks very distant, very deep in thought. I begin to chew my bottom lip furiously. I don’t know what to do or what to say. Maybe there are no words. Maybe I should just stand here and stare like a fucking idiot…

“So, I guess you know.”

I nearly die of shock when I hear his voice. His tone is raspy, and hollow. It’s almost like he has no voice at all. It’s so strange to see him this way. Justin used to be the most confident person I knew. Nothing could bring him down, nothing and nobody. If he wanted something, he got it. If he wanted to do something, he did it. It didn’t matter what people thought, because he was confident in himself, and his sexuality. But now, that person is gone. This is Justin now…torn apart, confused…and dying inside. The tears begin to roll down my face. For the first time, in a long time, I would give anything in the world to be able to rid him of his pain. What happened between us doesn’t seem to matter right now. The only thing that matters is that Justin was taken advantage of…Shane raped him, and he needs somebody to tell him it’s not his fault.

Somebody like me.

“It’s not your fault,” I finally say. I feel bad admitting that I know about the rape. I’m sure Justin didn’t want me to find out this way, but I hope he understands why Madison told me. I mean, I’m sure he does, because he talks to her a lot more than I ever will. Still though, he must be humiliated. I can’t even begin to imagine what he must have felt like when Shane was doing all that to him. Was he conscious? I know he must have been. If he wasn’t, I’m sure it wouldn’t have effected him quite so badly. But then, how did Shane get him to cooperate? Did he tie Justin up? Did he point that gun in his face? Did he hold him down…twist his arm behind his back? Did he hit him?

I sit down on the edge of his bed. Thinking about what he was forced to do, makes me want to wrap my arms around him and hold him, but I won’t. Just like I wouldn’t comfort him that first night in the basement. I was scared of what kind of emotions would arise between us, and I feel the same way now. I’m still scared of him, even though I shouldn’t be. It’s ridiculous, crazy even, but I can’t make myself give him any sort of physical comfort right now.

He draws in a long, raspy breath, but he still won’t look at me. He curls himself into a smaller ball, and sucks his bottom lip in. “Kerri,” he says after a few moments, his voice barely audible. “Do you think I’m a freak?”

I shake my head. “No,” I say softly. “I don’t think that you’re a freak.”

He finally looks at me. His eyes are glossy, bloodshot, and there are dark circles underneath them. Those circles…I always get them, but I cover it up with make up. It’s obvious that doesn’t sleep well, if he even sleeps at all. I guess now I can say I have something in common with him again. Yeah, great. “God, Kerri…” he sits up quickly, and rubs his eyes, which were starting to tear up. “You shouldn’t see me this way, okay? I’m fine, so just go back to the house.” He backs up against the wall, and hugs his knees to his chest. Then he starts to rock himself.

I rock myself a lot, late at night when I can’t sleep and I’m all alone. It makes me feel better. I feel protected. Sometimes I pretend that Justin is the one holding me, instead of myself. But that’s crazy. I shouldn’t ever think of him that way. I doubt he’ll ever want to touch me, or anybody else again. “I’m not going to just leave you here alone,” I tell him. “I…I guess you need me. That’s what Madison seems to think.”

“I blacked out,” he mutters. “And I asked where you were. I just…I didn’t see the room here, all I could see was that fucking hell hole. I was fucked up, you know? I was trying to stay awake, but then I must have fallen asleep, and then Shane came…and when I woke up this guy they room me with was on top of me. I mean…his hands were just all over me…” he pauses, and looks down at his lap. Then he begins to cry. Softly at first, but then his cries grow louder. He presses his face into his knees, and he just…he just cries. He can’t seem to stop. His entire body is shaking, and he seems to small, so fragile. I’m convinced if somebody came and pushed him off the bed, he would shatter into a thousand pieces.

And I have no idea what I’m supposed to do for him.

“I didn’t want Shane to do what he did,” he chokes out, in between his sobbing. “Okay?”

“Shh.” I don’t know how I ended up beside him, all I know is I am now. Without another moment of hesitation, my hand goes to his face, and I gently wipe the hot tears off of his cheeks. I’m touching him, and I’m still afraid, but my gut instinct is telling me that everything is okay, and that I’m doing the right thing. “Justin, I know you didn’t. It wasn’t your fault or anything. Shane was evil.”

He calms down a little bit, and meets my gaze after a moment. His expression is full of confusion and fear. I don’t think he knows what to say to me. But that doesn’t matter. He’s talking to me, and that in itself is a major step for him. “I didn’t want to do it Kerri. But Shane told me he would kill you if I didn’t behave,” he sobs. “And I didn’t know what else to do. I…I couldn’t let you die, Kerri. Not like that.”

I cover my mouth with my hand, and the tears start to crawl down my face before I have the chance to stop them. What he’s just told me is sinking in quickly, and I’m surprised I haven’t hit the floor yet. Shane dangled me in front of Justin…like a little toy. Justin let Shane rape him, because of me. It’s entirely my fault. If I hadn’t been there, Justin would have fought back, I’m sure of it. If only I had refused to go with Justin to pick up the cake…maybe none of this would have ever happened. Justin would be fine, unstable of course, but he would still have his dignity. He certainly wouldn’t have started to cut himself, and he certainly wouldn’t have wound up in this place.

It’s. All. My. Fault

It’s all your fault. It’s the first time in a long time that I’ve heard Nathan’s voice in the back of my mind, and I’m terrified. This has only happened twice before. Once after I‘d had a fight with my mother, and another time when I was really fucking trashed. I guess it could be the stress taking it’s toll on me, but right now it seems so real I don’t know what to think

“Stop,” I whimper. I close my eyes and I cover my ears. “Stop it, Nathan.” I can’t be sure if Justin’s heard me, but I pray that’s not the case. I really don’t’ want to freak him out anymore. But the voice…it’s just so real, and I need it to stop before I wind up in this place too.

A warmness surrounds me, and I feel safe for the first time in a long, long time. I grab onto the feeling with my hands, and lean into it. I accept it. I love it.

“I got you.”

I hear his voice and I open my eyes.

“I won’t let them hurt you anymore, Kerri,” he says sternly. “I’ll do whatever I have to do.”

It’s his arms that are surrounding me. He’s embracing me. He’s keeping me safe from Shane, Nathan and the rest of my nightmares, and I find that I can’t pull away from him. “It’s my fault,” I croak. “I’m so sorry, Justin. I’m so sorry that I did this to you.”

He lips land lightly on my forehead, but I can feel his body shudder as they make contact with my skin. I wish he wouldn’t do that. We’re not ready to be this close, but it seems to be the only solution to our problems at the moment. We both need to feel safe. But at the same time we need to be around people that can understand us. But nobody can really understand us, or what happened…

And I realize the only people we have to rely on are each other.

“I won’t let them hurt you anymore, either,” I promise him. I lean back against his broad chest, and breath him in. He smells like…clean. Like clean and cheap aftershave, but I love it. It’s a safe smell, a kind smell, and all I want to do is lie here in his arms forever.

“Don’t go home,” he pleads. “Okay?”

I look up at him, suddenly realizing that I’m supposed to leave tomorrow afternoon. If I don’t leave tomorrow, I’ll miss my interview. But I don’t tell him this. I’m too enveloped in him to let him down right now. “I‘m…I can work something out,” I nod.

And he smiles genuinely.

“Stay,” he says softly, tightening his embrace around me. “I want you to.”

And I know I will.

Clean Slate