PTSD Episode and strong language warnings for this chapter

From the Journal of Debbie Evans

One day was much like another. I found myself losing track of time and not caring. The only difference was, with each day, the pregnancy seemed to grow more and more. My back ached all the time, my ankles swelled, and I was having strange cravings for food I hadn’t even cared for before. My body felt as if it were inhabited by an alien.

I continued to stay wrapped in my cocoon, shopping online for books and other things, and quickly bringing in the packages when the deliveries arrived. As much as I hadn’t planned for this to happen, there was no getting around the fact that I was having a baby. I read everything I could get my hands on about pregnancy, childbirth, and parenting. I knew I’d need a place for the baby and all the things he or she would need. I nearly panicked as I made a list of baby things to buy. Who would have thought a baby needed so much? Again, I went on an online shopping binge for baby paraphernalia this time. I spent quite a long time putting the crib together, setting up the baby swing, and getting the changing area ready. I figured most mothers-to-be had a partner to help, and I felt the immense weight of loneliness settle over me. This was not how I pictured my life, but I was somehow going to have to suck it up and deal.

Almost every night, I had nightmares of Shane’s attack. Bile rose in my throat and sometimes I’d barely make it to the bathroom before everything came up, not that there was much in my stomach to begin with. I still couldn’t bring myself to eat much, and most of what I did eat didn’t stay down anyway.

I continued to often nap in the rocker, unable to muster the energy needed to take my sorry butt to my bed. The rocking motion somehow comforted me and made me feel safe. In my rocker, I could read to my heart’s content and reflect on life, which was probably a bad idea, considering how hopeless my life was.

I was startled out of just such a nap when my cell phone rang (I’d had it replaced right away after Shane’s attack). I briefly debated on sending the call right to voicemail until I saw who was calling. I knew I’d have to face up to it eventually, so I figured I might as well get it over with.

“Hello, Simon,” I said on a long exhalation.

“Debbie! You answered this time. Thank goodness.” He sounded relieved. “I’ve been calling and calling, but I always got your voicemail. Are you okay?”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I’ve been…indisposed.”

“Debbie, are you okay?” he asked again. The concern in his voice nearly undid me. Tears sprang to my eyes; my throat constricted.

Swallowing hard, I answered in a squeaky voice I never thought I was capable of executing. “I…um…Simon, we need to talk. There’s something I need to tell you.” I knew I couldn’t hide the pregnancy forever and that I needed to be honest with Simon.

“Okay, kid. Can I come over in about an hour?”

“Sure,” I replied. “I’ll be here.”

I hauled my dead ass to the shower, the first I’d taken in about three days, and hurriedly did some cleaning around the house. God, I’d let the place go and was living in a pigsty. Dishes were piled up in the sink and flowing onto the counter. My stove needed wiping down from the mess I’d made. I’d heated up some canned soup yesterday which boiled over because I’d been careless about watching it. I ran the vacuum and quickly dusted. Sometimes living in a shoe box has its perks. It didn’t take long to get the place looking halfway decent.

When Simon arrived, I quickly ushered him inside before he could react initially to my obviously pregnant condition. I closed the door, and when I turned around, his gaze moved to my protruding stomach. “Debbie, why didn’t you tell me?” he asked softly.

I looked down at my middle, sighed, and slowly returned my gaze to him. “I…couldn’t face it myself, let alone bring anyone else into it. I just couldn’t…until now…because there is no choice anymore.”

He blew out a long breath before speaking. “We sure made a mess of things, didn’t we?”

I just shrugged and turned my face away to keep him from seeing the sorrow etched on it.

Simon must have picked up my mood anyway because he came closer and reached for me. “Oh, Debbie! I would have helped if you’d told me. I’m here now, and we’re going to figure this out, okay? Come here.”

When his arms came up to encircle me, an uncontrollable, wild panic seized me. I gasped and put my hands up in a self-protective, defensive gesture. “Don’t touch me! Please…don’t touch me!” I backed away, shaking and started to cry. My body broke out in a cold sweat, and all I wanted to do was cower in a corner.

“My God!” a male voice exclaimed. “Debbie, what’s the matter?”

“Shane…please…just leave me alone!” I screamed, my voice coming out in hitching sobs. I felt Shane’s hands on me, felt his weight pinning me down, felt him ejaculate his horrible filthy seed inside me.

From far away, I heard a voice calling my name. “Debbie…it’s all right. It’s me, Simon. Open your eyes and look at me. Come back, Debbie. Nobody’s going to hurt you. Come on now and look at me.”

It was dark…so dark…and I realized my eyes were squeezed shut. I slowly opened them, taking in my present surroundings as they swam back into focus. “S-Simon…?” He was standing very close to me. I felt him peering at me intently, but he made no move to touch me.

“Yeah, Debbie, I’m here,” Simon said in low tones.

“I’m…sorry. I’m…so sorry,” I sobbed out in abject misery.

“It’s okay. Debbie, listen to me. I just want to put my arms around you and comfort you, nothing else, okay? Will you let me do that?” He was speaking in a soothing, slow voice which began to unclench the fist of terror squeezing my chest.

I didn’t say anything but didn’t resist either when Simon’s arms slid around me. I bawled unabashedly as he rubbed my back and stroked my hair. When the crying jag ended, Simon grabbed a wad of tissues from the box on the table and handed them to me. “Better?” he asked softly while I mopped myself up.

“Yes, I think so,” I said, gently disengaging myself from his arms. “God, Simon, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. What must you think of me?”

Simon silently studied me for a minute before answering. “What I think, Debbie, is that you had some kind of PTSD thing and that there’s more going on here than just the pregnancy. Do you want to tell me about it?”

“i-I suppose I should after freaking out on you. Damn, what I wouldn’t give for a shot of JD right now.”

Simon smiled wryly. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Debs.”

“So, I graduate from ‘Kid’ to ‘Debs’, eh?” I grinned in spite of myself. Nobody ever called me Debs before. Hell, if that had happened in the past, the guilty party would be sporting a new asshole. Now, however, I found it sort of comical, especially coming from someone as sophisticated as Simon.

Simon chuckled. “So I’m fickle. Sue me.” Growing serious again, he sat on the sofa and patted the empty cushion next to him. “Sit down beside me and tell me what’s going on.”

When I sat next to him, Simon took my hand and waited for me to begin. Taking a fortifying breath, I began. “Well, you see, Simon, it’s like this.” It started out slow and halted, but as I started spilling out every disgusting detail of Shane’s vile attack, it came out in a rush of phrases I wasn’t sure made sense. Simon held my hand the entire time, squeezing it periodically, and listened without interrupting. “And the baby, Simon…I can’t be sure who the father is. It’s hideous! I don’t even know who the father of this kid is.”