Them

The detective awoke with a start at the sound of rustling nearby. “Shhh, it’s just me,” said her wife, Heidi. Lauren could see the pained expression on Heidi’s face in how easily startled she now was. Heidi had always seen her as strong and brave and resilient, but now she had been reduced to a bundle of anxious nerves, thanks to Janelle Stone. She was full of just about every negative emotion there was. She was humiliated, she was depressed, and most of all, she was incredibly angry. Why did sick psychos like this get to roam the world while innocent people were tortured or lost their lives at such young ages? She had been a confident and capable person throughout her life, but now she felt nothing but self-doubt. Even though she knew what happened to her wasn’t her fault, she wanted to kick herself for going out jogging that morning. But then she was smart enough to know that Stone and her hired thugs would have gotten to her sooner or later. “How are you doing, babe?” she asked Heidi, trying to smile and put on a brave face for her sake. Lauren was in pain from having the tattoos removed from her arms and legs and her forehead skin grafted to cover Janelle’s name. This still didn’t mean she wouldn’t be physically scarred for life as well as emotionally. “I’m hanging in there. How’s Timothy?” “He’s just fine.” Heidi took Lauren’s hands, and Lauren gently squeezed them, returning the embrace. “We’re going to get through this, and you’re going to be okay, Lauren.” “I know that,” Lauren said, wishing she could feel as confident as Heidi. “Even if she’s never caught and brought to justice, we’re stronger and tougher than she is, and we’re going to fight this and get through it together. You’ve always been my rock, and that will never change.” A tear slid down Heidi’s face, and even Lauren felt her own cheeks become wet—something that was a rarity for her until now. “How are the counseling sessions going?” “Well, you know how it is. Physically, I’ll be better in no time at all, but emotionally… well, these aren’t memories that are going to be easy to live with. But they should get easier and easier with time.” “There you go,” said Heidi with a smile. “One day you’ll realize it’s been quite some time since you even thought of this.” Lauren had her doubts about that but hoped her wife knew better than she did. Lauren realized, however, that Heidi didn’t know all of what had happened. She knew she hadn’t been sexually assaulted, even though she feared that would happen—and the sexual taunts were bad enough—but Lauren had spared her the embarrassing details. Lauren hadn’t mentioned the diapers and being forced to undress in front of others, including strange men. She didn’t discuss the sexual comments the guys had casually flung at her about her body being slim and toned. She just wasn’t about to come out and say, Well, you know, Heidi, when they told me I looked positively fuckable, I really cringed with shame and embarrassment. Nothing made her cringe with embarrassment and anger more than the thought of Janelle Stone, however. Her one-upping her in such a cruel and heartless manner overrode anything the guys ever saw or said. The question she kept asking herself over and over again was what she was going to do about what had happened to her. She couldn’t change the laws. She couldn’t demand Montenegro hunt her down and send her back to the US for proper punishment. She wasn’t about to go to some strange country to try to take her on herself either. This left her feeling utterly frustrated and powerless. It seemed that all she could do would be to learn to live with what had happened to her and accept it for what it was. But was she strong enough to be able to do this? That’s where real doubt crept into her mind. And then an idea came to her. Maybe there was a way to publish a book about her ordeal. And maybe there was a way to go about it where she could keep some of the more embarrassing details out of it—or at least play them down. Once her body was healed and she was discharged and settled at home, perhaps she could approach the subject with Heidi and see how she felt about it, and then possibly contact an attorney who could help her. It was a long shot, and perhaps it was pointless and even childish in some respects, but the idea was to hope that Stone would eventually read a copy and not be the least bit happy about what she read. She realized this could prompt her to come at her again, but she wasn’t going to let Stone or anyone she hired run her out of her house or have anyone babysit her to keep her safe. She would just make sure she was armed at all times and very aware of her surroundings. She wouldn’t be alone as often either. Also, putting a book together might be a rather therapeutic experience for her, as even her therapist had suggested by way of keeping a journal. Yeah, she decided to herself. She needed more than a journal. She needed a book. Perhaps she could even start a blog at some point. Then another thought hit her. Janelle Stone loved to pour her evil thoughts into a journal. She’d never thought to investigate online to see if she could find any such thing of hers. Maybe it was about time she tried. If the sick twist knew no one could do anything to her anyway, what would stop her from having a public journal?