Purified - Bennoda

Chapter Six

Mike came back late that night and apologized for his dead phone, not being able to see my calls. He simply asked if I was alright, I didn't hesitate to say I was fine and was thankful when he didn't press further. I asked how his night was and he told me about all the art he saw, specifically his favorites and a few Joe thought were unique. I enjoyed listening to him talk about something he was so passionate about, especially because my depression causes me to lack interest in things I love. Hearing Mike express his passion reminds me of what I'm missing. Music fills that hole for me, but only really when I'm preforming and distracted by thousands of people.

I put myself in a dark place when I write my songs. They typically start with poetry and then I share them with Mike and occasionally Brad and we build off that together. Mike claims I have a way with expression, though sadness is really all I know. I suppose it's been such a huge part of my life that it's more normal to me than happiness. I've had a lot of personal experience with pain and so have many others, it draws them to our music.

We went to bed, but I couldn't sleep straightaway. Wishing I had weed to subdue the nightmares, I remember how disappointed Mike seemed when he found out I smoked last time. He understands it helps, except he'd rather talk. I wasn't ready to open up to him yet, I'm not even sure I could say the words without choking up and bawling. It still felt impossible revealing my secrets, but I promised I'd open up someday. Unsure if I'll ever be ready for that day, I fall asleep.

Charlie was neighbors with a couple struggling with domestic abuse. The old man who must've been in his fifties would constantly beat his wife, we always heard the yells and saw the cop car lights shining into Charlie's bedroom window, but we never witnessed it first-hand. The yells felt normal to me, in the situation I was in, so I hadn't really given it much thought and wasn't against Charlie when he said we were going to help the wife with some chores for a little money.

We were helping with outside work, so we didn't encounter her husband until after, when she told us to ask him for the money. She claimed she had errands out of town and he had five dollars for us. She left as we approached her place and knocked on the door. A low voice told us to come in, Charlie opened the door and we stepped inside.

The old man's lower half was exposed and he was sitting in a chair directly ahead of us. Charlie didn't seem phased and explained the situation. The man grabbed his wallet from the table next to him and took out a five dollar bill, setting it near his privates and told us we had to grab it if we wanted the money.

I stumbled when Charlie pushed me towards the old man, but immediately stepped back to where I was, angry. Charlie must've figured I wasn't going to grab the money and grabbed my wrist, yanking me out of the house as the old man stood, appearing pissed. He basically chased us out the door and chucked the money out after us, as if he thought it would keep us from exposing him as a child molester. Charlie was extremely mad and took me to his place to take it out on me.

I wake up with a start, seeing I barely slept. The nightmare was short, but it was enough to disturb me. It was an insane situation, I must've been six or seven at the time, and I happened to end up in a room with my sexual abuser and a child molester. My childhood was anything except normal. I accept the fact that I'm not going to sleep anymore and stare up at the ceiling, losing myself in thoughts of the past. Unable to control my thoughts, they repeatedly jump back to what I'm trying to push down.

Hours pass before Mike wakes up and asks me how I slept. I respond with a simple fine, he doesn't ask further. He's groggy as we get ready for the day, there was a concert tonight so we had plenty to do. The day flashes by like a breeze and I enjoy all the distractions leading up to the show. After a small soundcheck, we get ready for the meet and greet. I happily greet fans and listen to their stories, it's normal until a girl walks up to us, probably in her twenties.

"I really relate and love your music," She started, before starting to choke up. "Um... I was - I was sexually abused by a girl, my best friend, when I was a kid for years. It's still really hard to accept at times, but your music makes it so much easier. I felt so confused about the way I was feeling, I didn't think it was normal, you helped me open my eyes. I'm sorry, I just wanted to say thank you."

"It's okay," I pull the now sobbing girl into my arms, trying to make her feel better as my brain felt numb. This girl told me her darkest secret upon meeting me and I somehow can't manage to do that for Mike, someone I praise. She had gone through the same thing, but made it seem so easy to say even if she ended up sobbing. I started to believe maybe I could open up to Mike, maybe it's not as hard as I've been telling myself.

"I'm sorry," She apologizes, probably for crying, but to me it's for no reason. I see a reflection of myself in this fan. I rub her back before pulling away, giving her a soft smile.

"Don't be sorry, you've done nothing wrong. I should be thanking you for opening up to me about something so hard, I really admire your courage," I honestly say and it seems to make her feel better. She has no idea of my past or how much it relates to hers, but she felt it was important to tell me. I believe fate is knocking on my door, pleading with me to reveal my secret.

I begin to wonder how many fans are sexual abuse victims. Statistically, there are many and perhaps if I revealed my struggles to not only Mike, but also the fans, our music will take on a whole new meaning and people will be more aware of this dangerous, prominent problem in our society. I have the ability to reassure everyone affected by sexual abuse that they are not alone. I believe it'd be almost selfish of me not to share.

The rest of the meet and greet goes normally, as well does the concert. I feel almost high off the happiness after the concert is over, my heart racing from excitement and not anxiety. It had been awhile since our last show, so the thrill I was feeling was amazing. I may have been tired from not getting enough sleep due to the nightmares, but my adrenaline was high. I tightly embrace one of the rare moments I felt happy.