Trusting Milo

XV

I N D I G O

The next morning I wasn't entirely sure how to feel. I mean, some of the weight has been lifted since I told Milo the truth about my at home life. But I'm still broken. I'm still lost.

Have you ever opened your eyes and just stared at the ceiling for what seems like a few minutes, but turns out to be three hours? That's where I'm at. Everyone had fallen asleep a little past midnight, but I didn't want to sleep. The problem with going into a coma is the fact that it's a deep sleep; one you can't wake yourself up from, no matter how badly you pray to... which happens to be my biggest fear. 

Ever read A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens? You know, how Ebeneezer Scrooge was visited by three ghosts; past, present, and yet to come? It's a classic that I know many people watch around the holiday. However, for me, it was different. I wasn't watching from the side lines or behind the scenes-- no, I was forced to relive it during my week of sleep. My past came first; Jim's volatile abuse and the agonizing pain felt real... I was nine, hiding under the cupboard in the kitchen. Jim was extremely upset because I had burnt the pizza and this made him late for a meeting. When he found me, he yanked me out by my wrists, picked up my tiny body and took me up to his bedroom, grabbing the rolling pin off the counter on the way out. He had chunked me to the ground and began to pummel me with it. This was the first of many memories.

Then came the present and Milo was there, as well as the rest of the gang. It was good for a little bit but then it all shifted and became distorted... Milo was the first to strike me which nearly broke my heart. Ever heard that saying about how you're screaming at the top of your lungs, but nobody can hear you? Yeah well, I found out, it's actually a real thing. I cried out for him, but I knew he couldn't hear me-- instead he told me about how Ms. Rodriguez paired us for a project and how we would do it together when I woke up. More memories flooded my mind; the man from the camper and the brown haired boy from the party, touching and groping me, laughing maniacally when I yelled for them to stop, back handing me when I didn't comply. 

And finally, for what was yet to come... Jim and everyone else in my life were surrounding me in a circle. They were shouting obscenities at me, telling me how useless I was, how I would never be good enough, how I was weak minded and a disgrace, how I would never have a family to love me, how I would die alone, how my existence didn't matter. They all took turns kicking and punching me, spitting on me while I begged for mercy, Jim used a crowbar while Milo used a bat. At the end of my 'visits' from the three ghosts, I died. Everything went white and I felt pure bliss, I felt acceptance, I felt loved. But when I opened my eyes again, I was in what seemed to be a hospital room-- not heaven.

So now I'm sitting on the couch in Milo's living room, watching reruns of Always Sunny in Philadelphia while everyone else is still comfortably sleeping in the safety of their own rooms. I heard the stairs creak and whipped my head around to see Gio.

"Can't sleep?," he asked in a calm, yet raspy voice.

I shook my head while getting up to join him in the kitchen. He pulled out a bag of Cap'n Crunch and two bowls before grabbing the milk.

"Wanna talk about it?," he asked, this time sounding a little more awake.

I nodded my head but couldn't seem to find the words.

"Take your time," he said softly while placing his hand on mine.

After arguing with myself about if and what I should censor, I finally decided to just speak freely.

"Wh-While I was... in the coma... I heard everyone. I could hear what they were saying to me or to others in my room... I tried to wake up, to talk, to move... but I-I couldn't," I paused to take a few deep breaths to calm the anxiety rising up.

"Everything Jim had done to me... I had to see and feel it again... l-l-like as if it were real... I-I couldn't make them s-stop...," by this time I'm uncontrollably weeping as the images flood my mind again. I was damn near hyperventilating at this point.

"Hey now, calm down. Deep breaths. In. Out," he instructed while rubbing my back.

I focused on his words and evened out my breathing after a few minutes.

"I-I just felt alone and s-scared... I don't want to go back to sleep... I-I don't want to see them again," I said, trying to shove the memories down deeper.

"Look, pumpkin I could never begin to imagine what you have gone through, and I don't even want to. But what I can tell you, is that you've been through a lot. Even though it may seem frightening to accept that you have been abused, it's an important step and there is support right here when you need it. If you can't sleep, you have seven people to choose from in this house to wake up and I can guarantee you that nobody would be upset with you. But that doesn't mean I condone you pulling all nighters either. Your body and mind still need rest honey. With that being said, lets do some brainstorming on how to stop these nightmares," he said.

I looked up at him to see so much care in his eyes and I couldn't stop the flood gates from opening. This must be what it feels like to have a father figure... someone who helps you instead of tearing you down. After a few more minutes of calming myself I explained to him about the medication I took for it, but that it was no longer working properly.

"I see... Well believe it or not, when I was a kid I had them too. Only they were more along the lines of night terrors," he said nonchalantly.

My eyes widened at this new fact. To be truthful, Gio was a strikingly intimidating man if you didn't know him. His eyes and body language held a lot of power and authority in them. So, hearing him say that meant he had subconscious fears as well at one point in his life.

"What did you do?," I asked curiously. If he could make his go away, maybe he could teach me how to make mine go away too...

"Hm, well, I took a shot in the dark," he stated while attempting to recall his methods.

"What do you mean?," I asked, not fully understanding.

"You see, most of the time you don't realize you are having a nightmare. So, I tried to recognize it while it was happening. It wasn't easy at first, but I got the hang of it after a few tries. And then, I simply reminded myself to do this before I fell asleep each night until they just went away altogether," he said.

I just shook my head. "I never thought to do that," I whispered out, not meaning to actually say it out loud. "Neither did I. My mom was the one who told me I had to confront my fears head on," he chuckled out.

"The thing is Indie, once you stop the nightmares, you can change the ending of your nightmare; turn what is terrible into something beautiful. You might have to wake up to create a new ending, but you will sleep better when you rewrite your dream," he said while placing our bowls in the sink.

I didn't even think about my next choice because it felt right. I wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him tightly, staining his pajama shirt with my tears. "Thank you so much, Gio," I muttered. He pet my head and let me continue to quietly cry.

"You know, you've brought a lot of happiness to my kids in the little time you have been here. Cora and I already love you like our own. And I can promise you that everyone else feels the same way. Lets not forget my son, who seems to have fallen for you rather quickly," he stated, which pulled me out of my sob fest, heat rising to my cheeks at his comment.

"Remember to give yourself credit for that. You are a good girl, Indie. I think it's time you deserve a real family. And we have plenty of room in ours," he said with a warm smile.

Queue the water works.

A U T H O R S • N O T E

  An abusive relationship can include many types of behaviors, sustained over a period of time and often escalating. If you or someone you care about is experiencing this and you want to talk to someone about your concerns, REACH's hotline is available 24/7/365. Call 1-800-899-4000 to speak with a trained advocate who will listen without judgment.