Tired of Running

(sexual abuse)

“Whatever or fine” Cassie’s standard answers anytime she’s asked an uncomfortable question. Uncomfortable for her could be, how’s your day going? She’s always been secretive, it’s one of her many traits that is not desirable for friends, lovers or new acquaintances. Many people mistake her avoidance for being aloof, a little mysterious, and for some, she’s a challenge. For those young men who meet her challenge and try to get close to her, find themselves beaten and by nothing else but by her own fear. Fear can be powerful, it will lead you down dark paths, it will force you to make the wrong decisions, and it can make a person hide or run.  Cassie chose running.

She was twelve the first time. Her mother had to work two jobs to feed the family. Her family was comprIsed of herself, her two little sisters, seven and nine years old, her mother and an extra mouth, her mother’s current live-in boyfriend, who of course was unemployed. The arrangement, according to her mother, was that he was only there to babysit while she worked. In Cassie’s twelve-year-old mind, she thought, It would’ve been nice if her mother could stay with them and he worked. Of all her mother’s live-ins, that was how Cassie referred to them in her mind, this was the grungiest and most pathetic human she’d ever seen; that’s how she remembered him in later years.

Cassie bloomed early. Her physical traits were compared to a model’s by most people. She was young, but all the impending beauty was making itself known and the current “live-in” noticed. He would watch her as she got ready for school or did her homework, she would feel his eyes on her, but did her best to ignore it. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling, at such a young age her feelings were not clear, but one thing was, it felt wrong the way he looked at her.

“Mama” she thought she would confess to her mother what she felt.

“Cass? Did you need something”? Her mother looked tired. Her own beauty was still apparent and it was easy to see that Cassie inherited all her physical attributes from her mother.

“I feel strange when he’s in the house,” she blurted out how she felt and wondered if maybe her mother would understand and have a reasonable explanation for her. 

“Like what?”

“I feel weird, like he’s watching me. Do we really need him here?” Cassie hoped her mother would say, I’ll get rid of him.

“He helps me watch all my girls and he’s an okay guy,” with that she grabbed her sweater and left to one of her jobs, but not before turning and saying, “has he done anything to you?” She waited for an answer.

“No,” Cassie said, she didn’t want to lie.

“Okay, bye” and she left.

That was maybe the conversation that sealed her fate for then next three years. The “live-in” over heard the conversation. The first time he tricked her into the bathroom, he said, “if you don’t do what I want I’ll try your sisters, they won’t turn me away”. She hoped that every time would be the last time, but it never was. And the worst part was that her mother wasn’t listening to her, he always managed to sweet talk her, said he would get a job and that he loved her. 

She would tell Cassie, “I think you’re imagining all this, maybe you should work on making friends”. It was very clear to Cassie that her mother needed friends if she believed this live-in loved her.

When Cassie turned 15, she decided he would never touch her again. Behind their house was a huge vacant lot. It had trees, brush, plants and lots of land. While Cassie was exploring the area, she discovered a massive hollow in the earth. It looked as if someone tried to dig a hole to bury something large, a small car, a couch, maybe a body? This area was located on the other side of the fence…far enough away so no one could hear you scream. 

The next morning, Cassie felt as if she was in a trance, she was not herself, something took over her hands and her mind. She climbed the fence into the abandoned area and continued digging the whole, deeper and deeper. She used a shovel, her hands, and metal buckets, anything that would help her in her quest for freedom. Cassie’s goal was to feel safe again and she wanted to be happy in her home; another reason, was that she recently noticed the live-in looking at her younger sister. The thought of him noticing her, made Cassie work more furiously.

Cassie remembered an old live-in of her mother’s who, after watching a crime drama, was explaining to her the difference between first and second degree murder.

He said, “First degree is when the murder is intentional, you know planned; second degree is when it isn’t planned, it happens in the spur of the moment or is an accident”.

In Cassie’s innocence, she asked, “what’s third degree?”

In his machine-gun wit, he answered, “it’s when you get away with it,” and they both laughed. She remembered that conversation, it just wasn’t funny anymore. 

All night Cassie conjured up a plan. She would lure the live-in over the fence, she would say they could have more privacy. There was a large boulder near the hole, she would ask him to sit down. When she pointed out the vastness of the area and he turned to look, she would use the gun her mother kept in her bedroom drawer and end the terror.

The plan went as smoothly as it had in Cassie’s head that morning. She just didn’t realize how heavy a lifeless body could be. She thought she would only have to push him over and he would fall into the waiting and newly dug grave behind him. It was a little more work than she’d anticipated, but with her new found freedom surging through her body, she found the strength. She then began to shovel dirt back into the hole, at first she looked away and blindly shoveled to avoid his body, his face, then it got easier when his body disappeared. Cassie strew branches, leaves and any other of nature’s beautiful  contributions she could find across the large oval circle that still looked as if it was freshly filled in. She hoped time would change that. Before she left, she reached into her pocket and retrieved a handful of citrus seeds she’d found in the kitchen drawer. She tossed them onto the grave and doused them with water from her water bottle. Who knows? She thought, maybe his life won’t be completely worthless and he’ll give the world some delicious citrus fruit. 

Her mother did notice he was missing later that day. She asked her children, she asked neighbors, she wondered if she should call the police, but she never did. Just as Cassie assumed, no one missed him and some were happy he no longer existed. Eventually any trace of him in their home was removed.

                                                                        * * * * *

“Cassie, we’ve been dating for a few weeks now, but I don’t feel I know you much better now than I did on our first date? Why won’t you let me in?” Jack looked confused and thought by addressing his feelings he and Cassie could be closer.

She heard the question, it wasn’t the first time someone tried to know her. She usually escaped her relationships when feelings began to envelop her. Her life was on repeat, all her relationships followed the same formula: meet, date, sex, feelings, run. And is there any such thing as third degree murder, you might get away with it, but can you run from yourself?

“What do you want to know?” The beginning the end, she could feel it.

“Everything.”

He said it so simply, as if  he was asking her what 2 + 2 was. “I can’t, now now. Can you give me time?” For the first time she hoped that someone could break down the wall, but she wasn’t ready. “Just a little time.”

“Is there someone else? Do you have a kid? Are you doing something illegal? Can I have a clue?” Jack guessed at reasons that could be stalling their relationship. He was starry-eyed in love with her, but had to know if he was the only one feeling this way. “Did you kill someone?” He laughed at the last reason. She didn’t. He stopped laughing. “Wait, did you?”

Cassie was never a proficient liar, her eyes never lied and Jack knew her well enough to know that. “No, of course not,” her eyes were still giving her away.

“What happened Cassie?” Jack was serious now.

Cassie began to cry. “I have to go,” she ran out of his apartment, but before she got to her car, a hand reached out and grabbed her. 

“Tell me,” Jack was pleading.

“I need more time,” Cassie begged and hoped he would understand. Yet, she was mentally calculating her escape and her plan to never see him again.

He took his arm away from her, brushed back his hair over the top of his head and palmed his mouth with the same hand as he tried to come up with some kind of a solution that would bring some truth to their relationship, “Okay, you’re clearly upset right now and I could see you need space. So, tonight let’s talk. Come over and you tell me what your secrets are, we have to get past this to continue on with “us”, okay?” He hoped she would accept his offer and still want what he wanted.

She shook her head and walked around to the driver’s side of her car, “what time?” She thought if she’d asked this question he would believe she was coming back and that would make her leaving easier.

“Six, I’ll make steaks,” he said before he wondered if they should treat tonight as a date. What do people do to confess their inner most secrets, he wondered. Have steaks? A glass of wine, or maybe just talk.

Cassie watched the second hand go round as it swept across the 12 and with the smaller hand on the six, it was time, but she wasn’t at Jack’s. She knew he’d give her leeway time and wouldn’t try calling until about 6:30.  Cassie grabbed her keys off the hook by the front door and went to her car. The only question was, where was she going? To Jack’s or just driving.  She thought the answer would come to her when she was behind the wheel, but it didn’t.

Like she could depend on gravity, she could depend on Jack, he called, and called, and continued calling all week. Then stopped.

Well there you go Cassie, she thought to herself, you ran away from another relationship. She couldn’t help feeling that she ruined the best relationship she ever almost had; but to balance the scales of logic, she knew that a person would only endure what they can. It wasn’t his fault.

On a dismal Sunday morning, while making herself a cup of tea, Cassie heard a melodic tapping at her door. Her initial thought was, it may be her neighbor who routinely came over to borrow something, anything, a stapler, a phone charger.

She looked through the door’s peephole and Jack was standing at the edge of the stairs. He must have heard me, should I answer the door? She wasn’t sure what to do. She immediately looked at her attire, sweats, an oversized sweatshirt, cozy socks and then she robotically opened the door.

Cassie and Jack looked at each other, she searched for some kind of sign to tell her he wasn’t sorry he came to her door. After what seemed like a short commercial or a quick rendition of Happy Birthday, Cassie said, “Hello?”

Then the signs appeared on Jack’s face, and it wasn’t signs of missing anyone, “I should be mad, you stood me up, ignored my calls,” he said sternly. “I don’t know what you’re running from, is it me? Is there something that you’re afraid of?” Now his face relaxed and morphed into a face that was missing someone.

Cassie didn’t say anything, she’d learned a long time ago to be strong, to be silent, to not show emotion…to run. Maybe that’s my problem, she thought, maybe it’s time to let someone in. What’s the worst that will happen, he’ll leave, I’ll never see him again? That was going to happen anyway.

“How much time do you have?” she asked in a vulnerable tone.

Jack sat down, “I got all the time in the world,” he picked up his hand and pulled her near him.

The words fell out like of her mouth and the more she let him in, the lighter she felt. When she came to the part where she led the live-in to his waiting grave, she could hear a gasp, a disbelieving sound. She looked away, “are you going to turn me in?” she shakily asked.

“It sounds like that guy got what he deserved, but it’s not up to us to judge him. Maybe we should talk about options. Remember I told you, my uncle is a lawyer, he’ll help us,”

He said, “us”, she thought…and that was all she had to know.