As It Was [Emily Prentiss]

Nine

Trigger warning: PTSD, mentions of sexual abuse, rape, and self-harm.

It was quiet and the air was stale and unmoving. It smelled like dirty carpet and sawdust. I glanced at the clock, seeing the hand tick as each silent second passed.

"How are things going at home?"

My gaze left the clock abruptly, landing on a beautiful dark-skinned woman with long braids twisted into a bun, an angled face, dressed to the nines. To say she was beautiful was an understatement and I'd told her as such during our first session. This was our third, where she sat across from me, one leg crossed over the other, her gray eyes piercing, but kind as she studied my expression.

I inhaled sharply, sighing with a shrug. "It's okay. My roommate and I mostly avoid each other. I think moving in was a bad idea."

"Why is that?"

I looked away from to stare at the worn, dark carpet, spotted with various darker stains.

"Rita?" She spoke gently, drawing my attention back to her. "Why do you feel that it was a bad idea to move in with your friend? You said, she was your best friend, yes?"

I shook my head. "When we were in a high school, yes, sort of..." I trailed off, glancing back at the clock. Two minutes had passed with 43 minutes to go. I looked back at the woman. "But she moved on and I didn't. She acts like nothing has changed, but... everything is different; she's different, I'm different... and it made me feel... used, and I- I'm starting to think that- I mean, even William-"

"William Decatur?"

I could feel my chest tightening as I thought the word but couldn't bring myself to say them. I nodded. "I wasn't his intended victim. It was an accident; a mistake."

"Rita, are you going to put that much stock into a man whose only chance to feel anything with a woman was to kidnap unwilling women and rape them?"

I flinched, the word rape sounded so blunt and made my stomach churn. I didn't like to remember. I didn't like to remember it at all.

"That's all we have time for today." The woman didn't bother smiling as we both rose to our feet. As she opened the door for me, she met my gaze. "Perhaps you should consider talking to your friend, instead of just allowing yourself to assume and making what is probably nothing into something, hmm?"

I stared at her for a long moment but didn't speak as I stepped out of the room and took a big gulp of air, I hadn't realized I was holding. That was the problem though, wasn't it? That I was probably making something out of nothing every time she looked in my direction? Every time she smiled at me. The way my stomach would flip when she kissed me, like it was the first time every time. She asked me to move in with her, as though it was nothing she wouldn't do for a friend in need, but I let it feel like something more. I was foolish. 

Emily lived this fancy life with formal galas, flying across the world in private jets, and she was close to these fancy people, who would never have to worry about making ends meet, and I was just someone from her past, who never strayed too far from home and couldn't even be kidnapped intentionally. I was nobody.

I was a bartender/server at a bar and grill, which was not at all my scene, but the pay was decent. I had not told Emily where I worked, too embarrassed. 

The bar was loud as I stepped in through employee's entrance, the Friday night crowd in full swing. I pulled on the black lap guard apron, tying it behind my back in a haphazard bow, pulled my hair into pigtails, (it brought in bigger tips) greeted the cooks in the back, and got to work. Nothing of significance happened for several hours until I saw a familiar brunette, whose lap held a gorgeous blonde, surrounded by a couple of other familiar faces as well as some... not so familiar, and they were in my section.