Ugly(86)

When my body is completely calm, and I feel all the tension disappear. I sit up in bed and turn to the laptop again. The search page has a list of psychologists who are located near work. Some work with children, others with trauma victims. As I scour the pages, trying to find someone, I come across a name of a doctor whose introduction reads, ‘Specializing in women who have suffered domestic abuse.’ The listing itself is simple, and on the third page of the search engine. I click on the link, and see a picture of her. Her name is Dr. Katherine Scott, and it says she’s the only one in her practice. For some unknown reason, her picture and her page tell me she’s the person who can help me. I open up my email, copy her email address and type out an email to her.

I sit and look at the words I’ve typed, and delete them. I write something different, a shorter introduction, and again I delete it. It takes me over an hour of writing and deleting before I glare at the words I finally do write: “I need help.” The words are brutal, but also simple and to the point. I get up off the bed, and I pace back and forth in my room, stopping to stare at the three little words which have the potential to change my life. This is stupid, Lily. You’re an idiot.

Going into the guest bathroom, I brush my teeth, and just to be sure, I brush them again. When I go back into my room, I look at the words and hope I’ve magically written something else. Something more profound, maybe something which will make Katherine want to help me.

I sit on the bed, close the laptop and continue listening to some music. All the while the words haunt me, and keep me coming back to what I’ve written.

Do it, Lily. Take control.

Opening the laptop, I see the words I’ve typed. They mock me, sitting there teasing me, silently saying I don’t need help, I’m strong enough to get past this on my own. Dad and Trent’s constant belittling creeps back in. “You’re so stupid,” they’d say. “You’re so ugly.” The taunts were always there. “No one will ever want you.”

The mouse cursor continues to hover over the ‘send’ button. I want to send it, but what if she just laughs at me and says I really don’t have problems? What if she dismisses me? What if she’s right, and I can handle this on my own? “You’re the dumbest person I know.” Trent and Dad’s words whirl around in my mind. I feel like screaming as loud as I can, and pulling my hair out in frustration.

As the turbulence spins in my head, a moment of absolute clarity occurs right as I’m feeling the most lost and vulnerable. The music changes track and for only a few seconds there’s no sound at all coming from the radio. The anguished torment roiling in my mind, becomes silent. Not a single sound can be heard. Not from the radio, not from the laptop, not even in my mind.

And it’s then I realize this is one of the most important moments in my life.

I may fall, I may stumble, I may even ask for help. But I am not weak. I am the strongest I’ve ever been.





It’s my first day in my new role at work and Peter hasn’t left his desk the entire day. Candace is on her last week, and she’s been showing me everything I need to do in order to keep up with him. Peter also oversees another five stores in the district, but works out of this office. He’s barely spoken to me, but Candace assured me, this is just how he is.

He came out a few times or buzzed through what he needed, and Candace stepped me through everything, giving me a complete run down on what happens on a Monday. I’ve been taking avid notes, because she also did say every day there’s something else that needs doing.

By the time lunch comes around, I’m starving, but I also need to go get myself a new cell phone. I forgo sitting at the café for lunch, and head straight to the convenience store four blocks down to get a pre-paid phone.

I grab a coat I’ve borrowed from Shayne, and start toward the store. It’s cold outside, and I make a mental note I need to go buy a coat. Liam took me to Target on Saturday and I bought some clothes, but Shayne insisted she had a spare coat and not to buy one because the prices are so high, and to wait for end of the season when they’re on sale.

As I walk past the small café near work, I look in and see Max sitting at the counter drinking from a mug. I stop myself from going to get a phone, and instead find myself walking into the café.

I go and sit two seats over from him, and wait, like a cheetah, until he looks at me. I’m smiling to myself, because he’s picked up his mug and sipped from it twice, and he’s still not looked over to me. The young waitress who served Shayne and me last time comes over to me. “How can I help you?” she asks.