To: Rachel Helms
From: Romona Hicks
You aren’t allowed to ever be sorry for not being able to come hang with me. You’ve done so much for me. I’m not brave or strong, but whatever I am is because of you. I love you. Study hard.
She typed the message out on her phone and then closed her eyes, thinking of something “special” she could do today. Emery put her phone down and grabbed her brand new journal from the bedside table. She’d run out of the pages in the last one and had placed it with her others in the top of her walk-in closet. Taking the pen out from in between the pages, she started writing.
I
Noah,
It’s been almost four years since I was raped for the last time. That’s 1423 hash marks. I’ve made 1423 marks saying I wasn’t touched that day. In a way, I have healed. You helped me heal and see that there were people out there that I could trust, who could love me. I’m helping kids, which I always wanted to do, but I can’t help the one that I’ve wanted to all these years because I’m scared. I haven’t healed in many ways. I have a constant reminder of what he did to me. I see it every morning and it reminds me who I am. My name could be Emily, Emma, Erin, Elizabeth, but deep down I will always be Emery. I will always be the girl who was raped for three years and ran from it all, leaving my baby sister behind. I will never heal the fact that I don’t like people to touch me. I’ll never change the fact that I have to sit here by myself so I don’t get too involved with someone and then have to move. I haven’t
She turned her leather cuff around and stared at the words, wishing she was strong and brave. A loud crash made her put her pen down and run out of her apartment. The noise sounded like it had come from Ms. Carter’s apartment. She ran down the stairs and started knocking frantically on the door.
“Ms. Carter!”
Emery was still in a tank top and tiny boy shorts, but she burst through the door to run to the window in the front. Before she reached the bottom step, she realized she didn’t have a way to get back in and grabbed the door, shoving a rock under it to hold it open. Shielding her eyes, she peered through the window, but she couldn’t see anyone. Then she saw Dixie, Ms. Carter’s dog, run through the den and start barking, so she knew Ms. Carter was there; she didn’t go anywhere without that dog.
“Shit,” she cursed under her breath. She knocked on the window, which only led to Dixie jumping and barking at her.
Emery jogged back into the house and then up the stairs, looking for her phone. Emery didn’t want to be anywhere near cops, but what if that sweet old lady was hurt? She called 911.
“Um, yes. I’m concerned my downstairs neighbor is hurt or unconscious.” Emery took the phone with her and gave her address as she ran back down the stairs. “No, I heard a really loud crash and I’ve been knocking on her door. I can’t see her, but I know she’s there. She doesn’t go anywhere without her dog.”
The operator made her give a description of the house and Ms. Carter and then said they would send EMS.
Emery sighed in relief when she saw an ambulance screech down the street a few minutes later. It was only when two men exited the vehicle that she realized she didn’t have on real clothes or a bra. Embarrassed, she covered herself the best she could and answered their questions.
One of the EMS workers called someone about the need to get into the house. “Police are on their way.” He smiled at Emery as he informed his partner.
“Okay, well…can I go now?”
“Oh, sure. We’ll take it from here. We have your phone number in case we need something,” the other man looked down at his notepad, “Emma.”
“Thanks.” She put her head down and walked upstairs. She couldn’t stay to see what happened. She hoped Ms. Carter was okay, but she needed to stay clear of any law enforcement. As she reached the door, Emery made a quick decision about what she would do for her birthday.
Emery raised her head from where she lay on her towel close to the shoreline on Hilton Head Island. It only took a little over an hour to get to the beaches on the island from Savannah. She’d never been, but had overheard people at work talking about how nice it was “on the island,” so she’d hurriedly packed lunch and a towel and googled the route on her phone. Her skin was already a little pink from the sun. Sighing, she pushed herself up to a sitting position and pulled her phone out of her bag. She’d been there for over three hours already.
She opened the cooler and spread her birthday lunch out on her towel. She had pimento cheese and crackers, Purple Haze beer, and a piece of red velvet cake. Mindlessly, she scooped out the pimento cheese with her cracker and ate while she watched the other people on the beach. It was a perfect beach day, around eighty degrees, and the beach was packed with families, friends, and couples. She was the only one alone.