Hey Punk, Keep This a Secret

Shower Thoughts (Part 3): Devin Milan

 I can't sleep. I'm so scared about tomorrow. I'm certain I'm going to get triggered during the trial. I mean Jesus Christ, I could barely make it through being interrogated before I started crying. Let alone the court case itself! Interrogation is like the tutorial and court is like the final boss. And I'm not even Chance! I can't possibly imagine how he feels.

Well I guess that since I'm already here I should finish my story from last entry. It'll explain why I'm so worried about being triggered that I can't sleep. So here it is:

Landon called off work that day to make sure I would be okay. I remember him telling me something along the lines of, "I had to convince my wife to let me take care of it myself. She always wants to do everything for everybody but I know she can't. Besides, I figure you'd rather stay here with me since you know me a little better." And I'll be honest he was completely right about the last part.

When we got upstairs, he insisted that I eat. But here's the thing: what Damien did to me caused me so much panic that I couldn't eat. Even the thought of eating (or just putting anything in my mouth in general) made me feel sick. Everything, even my empty mouth, had the taste of Damien's... you know... on it. How do I know what it tastes like? Because he made the choice to put it in my mouth at one point.

I obviously couldn't tell him what was happening. So I had to just keep shaking my head. But he wasn't taking no for an answer. He refused to let me go hungry. So I gave up. I let him make the food.

While I waited, he gave me a cup of orange juice. He said "If you're not going to eat the food I make that's okay, but at least try drinking this." I managed to force some of it down, but not very much. Not anywhere near enough to keep me well the whole day.

When the food was done, he set a small plate of it in front of me. He said I didn't have to eat it, but that I should at least try.

I wanted to try. Believe me. But the moment the food was in front of me, I started to feel this pressure. Like I had to eat it. I could swear I heard my mom calling me names. "Ungrateful" was always her favorite one. It was always so stressful when she would say those things. It was just as stressful then too. And it made everything taste so much worse. It made me sick. Then I threw up.

I threw up all over the food. And the table. And the carpet. And myself. It was bright orange, like the orange juice. It was fucking disgusting.

Landon looked at me and I couldn't tell whether he was worried or pissed off. And I cried because I didn't know. It's not like I could have told him I was sorry. So I just cried, and hoped he got the message. I'm pretty sure he did but it was still really scary.

And that's why I'm terrified about tomorrow. The last thing I want to do tomorrow is throw up in front of everyone. Even just going mute would be a disaster. I'm supposed to be a witness. That means I'll need to be able to talk so I can say what I saw or whatever. I would be a pretty useless witness if I couldn't even do that.

I guess it doesn't help that I'm not even trying to rest. Maybe I should do that now, so that I don't screw the whole thing up tomorrow.