Five Minutes

Automatic Flowers

She could just turn and dart in the opposite direction. It wasn't too late for that. But she was obligated to face her demons, or she'd struggle to suppress for months, or years.

She stood behind the door for a few moments, purposely showing up late. It was unlike her, though she concluded the later she arrived the longer she could delay her admissions.

The door was closed. She rested her back against the wall, applying that common saying to this circumstance. It was like ripping off a bandaid. The faster she did it, the sooner she would feel alleviated and sense relief from the inevitable pending pain.

The walls of the building were a dreary off white, the hallways almost never ending. Though she may have only perceived them that way knowing she where was going to end up.

The group was one she'd found an ad for online, indecisive about initially joining because what if it was some kind of scam? Could she really trust a group of women she didn't even know?

Refusing to succumb to her own paranoia, she'd driven down for her first session.

She peaked through the square glass on the door, seeing a group of women of various ages exposing their own vulnerabilities. With a deep breath, she turned the door of the knob and strolled in, hoping to be as quiet as possible.

Obviously, having been late, it was impossible for her to remain unnoticed. The women all turned to stare at her as she made her entrance l. She felt like she did as a teenager when she'd arrive to class late and accidentally disrupted the start of a lecture.

"Hi," she said, standing awkwardly in place a few feet away from the group. "I'm sorry I'm late."

"It's all right," a women said, who Veronica quickly pegged as the counsellor. She looked to be in her early to mid thirties, slender framed with sleek shoulder length blonde hair. She was wearing a blue long sleeved shirt and midi skirt that oddly diminished any potential intimidation Veronica may have felt prior to entering the room.

"Why don't you have a seat and introduce yourself?" the counsellor asked.

Veronica stalled a moment before walking over to the closest empty chair. She planted her feet firmly on the ground, placing her hands on her lap. Her muscles felt very stiff.

"It's okay if you're nervous," the counsellor said, clearly detecting her nervousness. "But remember this is a judge free zone."

"I'm Veronica," she started. "And I was assaulted a few months ago and, um... yeah."

The counsellor looked at her like she was waiting for Veronica to proceed with the rest of her story, straightening up when she appeared to realize there was no continuation. "Okay, Veronica," she said. "I'm Linda and I'm glad you've decided to join us today. It might be difficult at first but please know... we're all here to support you."

Veronica strained a smile, her muscles remaining too tense.

For the next hour she heard stories of women in different stages of recuperating from their own assaults and it was gut wrenching, horrifying to listen to.

One of the girls, who was in college, named Shayna, had her arms tight around herself. She didn't look anyone directly in the eyes when she spoke, keeping them lowered the entire time. "My boyfriend broke up with me recently. He thought I was lying about it and accused me of cheating on him. He called me a slut."

Veronica occasionally glanced at Linda as stories were shared. She looked constantly grieved and concerned. Veronica noticed how intently she listened, how alert she was. She never interrupted.

"He blocked me after that, from his phone and everywhere else. He never let me explain anything." Shayna loosened the grip she had on her arms and began twiddling her thumbs. "He told all his friends I cheated on him too and they started attacking me. They all thought I was some kind of whore." She paused and finally looked up. "I thought he'd be by me no matter what. I guess I was wrong. It's stuff like this that makes you realize who actually gives a shit about you. Definitely not him."

Veronica had her back against the chair, eyeing Shayna as she relayed her experience to the group.

"And my rapist... he doesn't actually go to my campus but I'm always on edge, worried he'll show up wherever I am."

Veronica straightened up in her seat.

"I hardly ever leave my dorm anymore. It feels safer. I thought something was wrong with me cause even when I did go out I had to pretend that I was having fun."

"There is nothing wrong with you, Shayna. Everyone processes traumatic events differently. And that was your way," Linda assured her.

Veronica almost smirked at that response. Was that supposed to be some form of consolation? She didn't see any of that. It was just empty hope.

Was this what they were obligated to endure? A bunch of adults incapable of steering a conversation in the direction that they dreaded? Of letting their accused control their fate?

Eventually it was going to be her turn. And what was she going to say? For some reason she grew nervous whenever anyone wanted to speak with her. Put her on the spot. Couldn't she fade into obscurity like those irrelevant celebrities?

"Thank you," Shayna said. Her smile was full of sadness and it tore cruelly into Veronica's heart.

She sat and listened to the other stories, arms still crossed like she were shielding herself from the group. She seldom spoke up, and was relieved when the meeting was over.

Veronica quickly shot up and almost sprinted out. She would have managed to do this successfully that Linda not stopped her.

"Veronica," she called out.

Veronica pretended not to hear it the first time. Once the name was repeated, she stopped, deciding the behaviour would be cruel. She turned around to give Linda her attention.

"I noticed that you were a bit... withdrawn and quiet this session," Linda started. "I hope that doesn't deter you from our future meetings. I understand it's difficult to open to strangers but... we're all here to stand by you a hundred percent."

This only made Veronica feel guilty. Her primary intention was not to return but if she didn't, who else did she have? A few friends, yes, but could they fathom what she was obligated to overcome firsthand?

"You won't be pressured into sharing your story before you're ready," Linda assured her.

There was such a warmth and sincerity to her voice that Veronica couldn't stop herself from smiling. "Thanks," she said. "I'll definitely be coming back."

And, surprisingly, she meant it.