Trials and Tribulations - [Bensler EO]

Part Seven - Self Pity

She was pitying herself. The thought occurred to her as she listened to the loud clanking of the MRI machine. It was snapping photos, carefully mapping every millimeter of tissue in her body that wasn't meant to be there. Foreign and unwelcomed. 

Nothing but a scrap of cotton covering her body under the imaging. Her badge and gun were locked up at home, which was something she despised the idea of getting used to. Her signature golden-plated 'fearless' necklace away in some small locker outside the radiology room. Removing the chain from her neck felt like removing a piece of her body. Each day that passed, it became harder to accept how vulnerable she felt without the items that made her feel safe.

Self-pity, she didn't do that often. It wasn't her favorite game, and it certainly wasn't her favorite card to have in the hand that she was playing.

Beaten and nearly raped in the dirty basement of Sealview Correctional Facility and she still never pitied herself. Growing up with a drunk and abusive mother, no pity. Discovering that her father was a violent rapist, still no pity. Poisoned with nerve gas. Pointing a gun at a serial rapist, knowing she could kill her partner and best friend in the process. Watching a colleague blowing her brains out on the ceiling in front of her. Having her throat nearly slit in the middle of the GW bus terminal. 

No self-pity.

How was this any different? 

She used those moments to further her own grief.

Why was this different?

The machine let out another roar from within, but returned no response to her countless internal questions. 

Why wasn't she being strong? Any logical person around her would vehemently try to convince her that she is being strong. The better question that remained was why didn't she feel strong? She had survived so much worse. 

Well, the worst part of this hadn't even started yet. 

Still, not an ounce of self-pity in those horrific, life-changing experiences. 

Maybe nothing was different. Nothing at all. Maybe all of those horrid situations had broken her, slowly and over time. Was this just the final indignity that the events of her past had been lying upon? The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. She was so goddamn sick and tired of being sick and tired. Maybe that was it; maybe she just snapped. Not in anger, not in rage, but with the newfound ability to see the fact that she was suffering; and then to feel something about it. She was tired of not feeling anymore, now she had to face the idea of feeling everything. 

Was that so wrong? Wasn't she entitled to just an ounce of self-pity?

Clank.

The MRI machine still didn't answer her. 

That was her own fault though. She was looking for answers in all of the wrong places. What sort of answer was she supposed to find while laying paralyzingly still in the center of an industrial tube? Well, not any answer she'd want to hear anyway. All the damn thing could do was ruin her life further.