#he didnt go to college to study psychology just to have a piece of paper with his name on it
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Summary: Chris and Lucy are reunited.
Words: 1,977
Warnings: Stealing, language, emotions, slight mention of former drug use
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Tag List: @book-dragon-13 @jobean12-blog @marvelgirl7 @southernbell91 @buckysforeverprincess @anxiousamandapanda @buckysteveloki-me @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety
AN: Cant do a read more. Also it was brought to my attention that several people didnt get notifications for Chaoter Four that was posted early last week so if you get the notification on this one let me know.
Chris climbed into his truck with a groan, his back stiff and head mildly aching. He rested his head back against the headrest of his seat and closed his eyes, no longer having to rush anywhere. The day had been long and he thanked God that it was Friday. Chris had taught three safety courses to the different fifth grade classes and had two meetings with disgruntled parents about a bullying situation and then he went straight to the college after work. School greeted him with an essay presentation, which he hated, and two exams that he really should have prepared better for.
Chris rubbed his weary eyes and ran his hand over his beard before finally sitting straight and turning on the ignition. The red Ford came to life with a grumble and he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway. Normally he would have gone straight home after class, especially with how tired he was, but not only was it a Friday night it was also a three day weekend and he was looking forward to an extended weekend and day off.
"You can't take care of others if you others take care of yourself." Chris' psychology professor would say at the end of every lecture.
"You need a break Chris, you always put too much on yourself." Erin often told him during one of their phone conversations or occasional meet ups at the bar.
"Yolo."
Chris never quite understood that one but the teens at the middle school seemed to use it as a personal mantra. After driving for a few miles he took a right and pulled into a gas station lot and parked. Reed's Gas Mart had been around for a long time. One of the oldest businesses in town, owned by a simple old man, had been around since 1958. The place had quite the reputation built around it. From the late fifties to the early eighties it was a place all the kids came to for an after school milkshake and a handful of candy and to listen to Jerry tale his stories. Unfortunately times changed and things became less simple. Teenagers still frequented the store but not for the shakes. Early in Chris' career as a police officer he'd made a few drug busts in the parking lot but well before that he himself had done a few things he wasn't proud of out back behind the dumpsters. Old man Jerry had caught Chris and a few buddies of his with a crack pipe once and chased them off with a broom, giving Chris a few good whacks across the back of the head all the while hollering about telling his mother. All had been forgiven though and Jerry was a good man, hard worker, and he wasn't going to let a few punk kids ruin his business. Chris gave a slight smile at the memories and entered the store, the ding of the bell overhead indicating that he had arrived.
"Hey Jerry." Chris greeted the hunched over, white haired man
"Hey Chris."
Jerry's reply was short and he didn't look up at the off duty officer. His eyes were focused across the room, narrowed toward the candy aisle.
"I got one. Just stuffed a chocolate bar in the back of 'er pants."
Chris rolled his eyes. Jerry used to love having kids come into his store, he'd even given Chris and his siblings free ice cream cones on the really hot summer cones when they were younger, but over time as Jerry aged and more and more people used his store as their personal sinning grounds the less excited the man became to see a youngster enter his store. He was always suspicious of anyone under the age of twenty five, convinced they were all up to no good.
"I'll keep an eye out." Chris chuckled lightly as he walked over to a rack of snacks.
Chris grabbed a bag of beef jerky and peered across the shelves at the suspected thief. To his dismay he indeed witnessed a crime. What was even more disheart was the fact that he recognized the beg being used to stuff merchandise inside. Blue, faded, torn. Rainbow pin and sharpie "artwork". Even with her hood pulled tight over her head, a classic move to avoid facial recognition on the security tapes, Chris knew that it was Lucy. He watched for a few seconds as she grabbed another item and quickly shoved it into her bag.
"Come on kid, what are you doing?" Chris thought to himself
Lucy made her way to the back of the store, near the personal care items and Chris ducked down and watched through the large circular mirror on the wall as she stuffed another box into her backpack. He sighed and made his way to the counter.
"You're right." Chris ssigh to Jerry with a sigh
"Goddamn kids." Jerry muttered under his breath
"Let me handle it, alright?"
"Fine but I want her out of here and if I catch her anywhere near my store I'll give her the whooping she deserves, you hear me Christopher?" Jerry wagged his crooked finger in Chris' face
"You'll do no such thing old man." Chris rolled his eyes "Put that thing away and go back to watching the game. I'll take care of this."
Lucy's head was down low as she quickly grabbed the items she had came for. Headphones were plugged into her ears and heavy metal played loudly to calm her nerves. her heart pounded in her chest as she rounded the corner to make her exit and she froze in her tracks.
"Shit." She muttered when she saw Chris standing at the counter staring at her with disappointment, his arms crossed over his chest.
"Hey Luce." Chris finally said after a prolonged stare down
Chris could easily read body language thanks to his training in the academy. He knew how to spot suspicious behavior or signs of an abuse victim and he learned to read people by how their left eye twitched or how they shifted from foot to foot. Lucy may have looked defiant, shoulders back and head high, eyes glaring death rays in a dare to interfere with her mission but Chris could see behind that. Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bookbag until her knuckles were white. Her bottom lip quivered slightly. Her pupils were wide and pleading. Lucy was scared.
"Whatcha got there?" Chris took a step forward and relaxed his arms as he gestured toward her bag
"None of your business." Lucy snarled as she stared down Chris
"Come on, hand it over." Chris sighed. He Judy wanted to go home, get a nice buzz off a few beers, watch Game of Thrones, and go to bed.
Lucy mentally walked herself through her options. Would she be able to get out the back door before Chris caught her? What if he called backup and her name ended up on a wanted list and cops showed up at the school?
"I'm fucked." Lucy said to herself and decided to comply. Maybe Chris would go easy on her.
Slowly she handed over the incriminating bag and Chris took it. He eyed Lucy disapprovingly as he looked inside and her face blushed furiously with humiliation and anger as piece after piece of the stolen merchandise was pulled out and placed on the counter. A box of tampons, a box of bandaids, a few cans of soup, a roll of half used toilet paper, and a bottle of equally used hand soap lined the counter. Chris furrowed his brow as studied the items.
"And the candy bar Missy." Jerry gruffed out with a glare
Chris glanced at Lucy and she hesitated. The chocolate was the one thing she was really hoping to get out with. Chris held out his hand impatiently and Lucy reached behind her back and pulled the Hershey bar out of her pocket. She slammed it into Chris' palm with such force that the pieces broke apart. With a sigh Chris put it on the counter with the other items.
"What do you have to say for yourself girl? Stealing from a hardworking old man, none of you have any respect for your elders anymore! Need a good ass whoopin is what you need. Even stole from the bathroom." Jerry ranted and Lucy visibly cringed
"That's enough, Mr Reed." Chris interrupted
"I want her dealt with Christopher. Arrest her."
Lucy tensed and Chris held up his hand
"Just wait a minute Jerry. Look at what she's got here. This looks like necessary stuff, doesn't it? Luce? Is everything okay at home?"
"That's not your business." Lucy held back the tears, letting anger overcome the sadness
"Is your dad not buying things you need?"
"Stay out of it!" Lucy hissed through her teeth, shaking
"I can't help if you don't talk to me, kiddo." Chris tried "Lucy I ca-"
"You're not in charge anymore. You don't work for my school because you left." Lucy spit the word out like it left a bad taste in her mouth and she stepped closer to Chris "You're not even on duty, you can't do shit. What are you even wearing?"
Chris looked down at his red plaid button up shirt and frowned.
"What's wrong with what I'm wearing" Chris asked, slightly offended
The realization that Lucy had never seen him without of his uniform came too late. Lucy had snatched the Hershey bar and bolted, the door slamming shut behind her.
"Lucy!" Chris shouted but there was no use. The girl was gone. Chris groaned and buried his face in his hands as he leaned against the counter.
"She left the property. I'm calling the police." Jerry stated as he picked up the landline phone
"For christ sake old man it's a candy bar. Puts you back what? A buck twenty five?" Chris took the phone and put it back on the receiver and slammed a couple dollars on the counter "In fact…"
He walked back to the cooler to grab his sought after beer then grabbed a proper back of bathroom tissue and a bottle of soap.
"How much for all of it?"
Jerry shook his head but began to ring up the groceries.
"You keep coddling these kids, Christopher, and none of them will learn their lesson. It'll be $48.62. "
"No wonder people steal from you." Chris jokes as he ran his credit card through the machine. He knew Jerry couldn't control the inflation and prices of goods these days. The old man swatted at him but did crack a toothless grin.
Chris bid farewell to Jerry and took the bags out to his truck. He placed them in the front seat and drove off, keeping an eye out for Lucy the whole way home. He had no idea where she lived and with it being a holiday weekend it'd be Tuesday before he could get Erin to get her address out of the file.
"Hang in there kid." Chris muttered as he parked the truck in his driveway.
Lucy ran until her lungs burned. Tears streamed down her face and she collapsed to her knees, sobbing. She shouldn't have to steal to provide for her family. She cursed herself for not telling Chris what was going on but she couldn't. He wouldn't help her, he'd just call the social services and they'd ruin everything. She caught her breath and wiped her eyes angrily before standing up and brushing the dirt off her jeans, cursing herself again for getting them dirty knowing it'd be a few days before she could wash them. She clutched the broken candy bar and made her way back home not ready to face the fact that she was going to turn up empty handed.
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I haven't written in a long time. Isn't that weird? Normally when unusual things happen to you the first thing you want to do is remember them? What better way than to write it down. Unfortunately that's not the case for me. I'm filled with anger and sadness. There is no in between with this one. There is no changing this one. And there is no forgetting it. So there's no need for a paper and a pen.
Why
What could I have done differently
Maybe I should've stopped drinking
I should stop going out to prevent this from happening again
I should stop being so flirtatious
Where were my friends
Why didn't I just go home alone
Maybe my drinking is a problem
These sentences are a constant cycle in my brain. When you don't like a TV show, you can change the channel so you no longer have to watch it. But you can't run from your mind. A study was done on a college campus that involved 129 women that had been sexually assaulted. 62% of those women considered themselves at fault for their assaults. SIXTY TWO PERCENT.
When women that spoke up about being sexually assaulted it would make me extremely uncomfortable because I could not relate. I had no idea what they meant by "I don't feel like me" "I'm angry all the time" "I can't live my life the same".
I would even limit hanging out when them because I was confused about what they were going through or feeling. I simply could not relate.
Today, I can. It's November 24th, 2017 at 9 o'clock and I'm crying and writing about sexual assault, because I truly do not know when I will ever feel like Tatiana again. I miss what she felt like. She was resilient. She had been through so much pain, and so many traumatic events in her life. She was fierce. She built her life from the ground up and made something of herself.
One person, stripped her of every single piece of confidence she held. Every little witty thing about her- gone. Completely shattered by one thing.
I don't know if anyone reading this has ever heard of Stockholm Syndrome. It's a psychological condition. In 1973 a robbery took place in Stockholm, Sweden. The hostages of this robbery developed a bond with their attacker as a survival strategy and to help ease the trauma their left with. And so, the hostages never testified against their attackers.
79% of women that are sexually assaulted, are assaulted by someone they once trusted. Family members, friends, coworkers, etc. With that percentage, half of those women will believe that they are at fault in the assault. They will often question why someone they trusted would do that to them.
During therapy shortly after my assault, I had displayed signs of Stockholm Syndrome. I would question why I let myself drink so much that night. I would defend my attacker because "I KNEW HIM AND HE DIDNT MEAN TO HURT ME THIS WAY" and he just "HAD A HARD LIFE".
I would put myself through this every single day. I would find every single reason in the book to truly believe that this didn't happen to me just because. And I truly believed that he did not mean to hurt me.
I was wrong. No amount of trauma or struggle that has happened in ones life could ever give them a valid reason to do this to a person. No amount of time could solidify sexual assault.
My attacker would reach out to me and say "You know I've always had feelings for you, why would I do that to a girl I cared for"
This is a form of manipulation. No amount of feelings can solidify sexual assault.
I am choosing not to be apart of the #MeToo movement although I now believe it's a very powerful movement that should be recognized in all parts of the world. I'm writing this because if I don't, if I just continue to hold it in. I'm afraid I will collapse. I'm afraid I will never reach Tatiana again and I will always be this small crumbled up piece of paper. I will always feel full of anger and pain or completely empty.
I still show sexual assault in various ways, whether it's me watching my drinking, feeling nervous at bars, not trusting anyone around me- even family. That will stay with me for some time and I have to accept that. But with time, I have the slightest bit of lingering hope- that I will one day walk into a bar with a huge smile on my face, jet black dress, order 2 shots back to back and not feel scared one single bit. I will wait for that day to come. But now comes healing. Someone once told me "Patience is a virtue Tatiana" and I have been holding on to that. With all the patience in the world I will one day be healed.
As much as I hope this reaches out to women that are currently in hiding and hating themselves for something they had no control over, I do need to ask one thing of anyone that's taking the time to read this. I am a mother, therefore I can not give up. I cannot give up on my little girl and I most certainly cannot give up on myself. So please, with all the love, positivity and peace you all hold within yourselves, send some my way. God knows I'm trying.
With all my love,
x
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