Over, Gone, and Lost

P A R T 4

The first time a man ever put his hands on Caroline, she was eight years old. He was her foster father, and he hit her. At first, she didn't understand what was happening. She thought he was sick or something was wrong. When she grew up, the only thing she found to be wrong was herself.

Never in Caroline's life did someone tell her that what happened to her wasn't her fault. Mainly because she never told anyone, but every now and then, someone saw. Sometimes it was a foster mother, and other times it was a neighbor, but it never mattered who saw because no one ever said anything. Caroline used to keep count of how many times a man put his hands on her. She stopped counting the day her seventh foster father put her in the hospital, claiming she fell.

"So, did you leave a note?" Ben asked.

"What" Caroline whispered, coming out of her thoughts as she looked away from the windows and at Ben.

"You know, like a suicide note, did you leave one?"

"No"

"Why not"

Caroline contemplated ignoring him for a while or lying, but she didn't see any reason not to tell him. "I didn't have anyone to leave one to."

"Oh," Ben said, although he didn't sound sad, more like he understood what she meant. "Well, if you had someone to write it to, what would you say?" he pondered.

Caroline had never been asked that or thought of it. What would she say? Odds are that if she had someone to write to, she probably wouldn't be on her way to kill herself. But if for some reason she did anyway, what would she say?

"I- I don't know. I would probably apologize for not being able to stay alive, for not having enough will or control to keep going," she mumbled, hoping it was the end of the conversation. But alas, it was far from the end because one thing she learned about Ben was that he was a talker.

And this car ride had only just begun. 

Word count: 345