Billie Girl

Chapter Forty Four

Over the next four months I have gotten to know New York City. No, I was not forced to go back to school. Connie and Frank didn't feel the need to push me to do anything that I didn't want to do under the circumstances. I have a room of my own. It is much smaller than the room I grew up in. We live on Twelfth Street and Second Avenue. It is a two-story walk up. My room faces the front and there is school across the street. Every morning, I wake to the sound of children playing. Sometimes it sounds to me like breaking waves on the shore, then at noon, I hear the same shrieks and laughter again.

They have a concrete playground. When I was little, I went to grade school where we had a whole park as our playground, but we weren't allowed to run too far. In the winter, we used to get in sleds and inner tubes and go down a substantial hill.

I just kind of wander around during the afternoons. I love to hang around Thompson Square Park and sing along with the street troubadours or drink really good coffee in a coffee shop on Avenue A.

There are some disadvantage's living in Downtown New York City. Guys are constantly trying "pick up" lines on me, a lot of older guys mainly. It is like being a celebrity walking around downtown. I have heard everything from:

"Have you ever considered modeling?"

"Here's my card, let me know if you'd like to meet for sushi."

And some pretty outrageous offerings:

"I have two tickets to see La Boheme at the Met tonight. Want to go?"
"How about sharing a bottle of wine with me in SoHo?

But I don't answer them. I don't speak a word. I am petrified.

I can't trust anybody. If they say they are Wall Street investors, I don't believe them. If they say they are Club owners, Dog walkers, Independent Film producers, Restaurnnteers, or Owners of a French Bistro. Not matter what, I don't believe them. They can only be one thing and one thing only: killers, rapists, freaks, psychos, maniacs, monsters....

It's a shame, because if I could only get past this one little phobia, maybe I could enjoy this city a bit more. I have a therapist on Fifth Avenue that I have discussed this with. He is really quite old, and I don't see how he could possibly understand the sufferings of a beautiful girl who has been raped. And as for the loss of my mother and my sister, he says nothing, he just listens. I have no idea what good this does me. Plenty of old men stare at me in the park. What is the difference?

Basically I just spend my time writing in coffee shops. It is important to get everything down. I have this fear that I won't live very long and this is all that will remain of me and my family, these words I have written, the record of what has happened.

After Connie and Frank brought me to New York there were some spectacular snow storms. People were all up an arms about how the city did not deal with it very well. But I thought the snow was a cool thing; it united everyone. You could not see the sidewalk, just never-ending snow, and all the cool people were out taking shots of it with their cell phones and laughing.

I don't think I have laughed for three months, and doubt if I ever will laugh again. At night I dream. But I have yet to dream about my mother or my sister. I still only dream of my dad, and that seems pretty unfair of me. I must be a cruel girl deep underneath it all.

There was a memorial in Grand Rapids, but nobody thought I should attend. It was sponsored by the city and took place at Grace Church right by my old house.

Blake disconnected his cell phone, and I have stopped calling his parents. Everything and everybody that mattered to me has been erased from my life. I fear that one day I will be erased as well. Sooner or later I know I will be.

When summer comes, I am thinking that maybe I will consider getting my GED and applying to some schools. I think it would be interesting to major in English and creative writing, and maybe one day get my Master in Fine arts. Being around Connie and Frank, I am forgetting about the renegade girl I once was. And they have been so kind to me, although they will never replace my mother, but they have done the nicest thing for me...