When I finally told my mother about the dream she took me to a therapist.
"Please sit down Abbigael."
Dr. Jasy said. "It's just Abby." I answered while trying to get comfortable in the too soft office chairs. "Please, Abby, tell me about what's been troubling you." she said. "It started when she was six she said-"
"Mrs. Marilyn I would rather hear it from your daughter."
Dr. Jasy said very sternly interrupting my mother. "Can my mother please leave?" I asked. My mother looked at me like I had shot her, and then left with sad eyes staring into my soul.
"It all started in 5th grade. My first day of middle school. I knew it was going to be rough but I didn't know it was going to be that rough." I told Dr. Jasy. "What happened that day?"
Dr. Jasy asked.
"The bell had just rang. Everyone rushed out the door but me and three other boys and the teacher, Mr. Brady. When I tried getting out the door the three boys blocked the door. When I turned around Mr. Brady was standing there. He asked if I could go to his room with him to talk about one of my papers." I said. "Thinking that we were going to talk about my paper like he said, I walked next to him down the hall to his room. When we got there he asked me to sit down. I did. While he was talking about my paper he got up and walked around his desk. He was standing behind me. He gently started rubbing my shoulder. He said that I looked tense. He started to pull down my shirt. That's when I got up and ran. I started running down the hall and the three boys ran after me. I ran even faster but they caught up to me. They dragged me back to the room and raped me. Mr. Brady walked in and I started screaming and crying. He said 'Boys you've done a good job.' he started rapingg me too."
She just stared at me and said nothing. I could tell that she had no words. Finally...she collapsed and started crying. I started crying also. When she got up she said that she was sorry this ever happened to me. I couldn't understand why she was so upset. She must of heard these kinds of stories everyday.
When we both finally got our shit together, my mom was waiting for us outside. She had tears running down her face. I could tell that she was eavesdropping. "Why didn't you tell me Abby?" she asked. "I was too afraid of what you'd think of me."
The car ride home was quiet. It was a good kind of quiet now. My mother finally knew and I didn't have to explain it to her.
Finally.
