TIANA

"Never in a million years, did I ever think I'd be seated here saying this- openly coming out about the fact that for years my first ever sexual experience wasn't with some cute guy whose smile cracked my mask, melting my insides," the young woman paused, audible sniffles soon followed and I felt myself blinking profusely to hold back my tears at the look in her eyes.

I could see something was amiss to the rhythm at which her heart beat. And what was left was some distorted tune to the rest of her body. 

In that chair, her hands clenched- unclenched the sides of it, the tightness akin to that of a child holding tightly onto that which would offer them security. There was a vulnerability that removed the scab off my own wound.

Seeing someone look so lost had me yearning to reach out and comfort her even if I didn't know her. When she made no move to continue, Nathan reached out to give her hand a gentle squeeze and even though I couldn't hear what he had whispered in the woman's ear I could only assume he was offering some words of encouragement.

She nodded her head and leaned back in her chair squaring her shoulders in the process as if to gather strength to push through in finishing the story," Unfortunately after my mother passed, I found my hands holding the short end of the stick when my father took it upon himself to see me as the only other woman suitable to fill in the duties of his wife," she shuddered swallowing hard, the moisture gathering in my own eyes watching her fall apart as the other people around the room held tears of their own witnessing her unfold a dark part of herself.

When Nathan had invited me to a support group he had created, nothing could have prepared me for the heart breaking stories each person in the room shared. It was difficult listening to each of them take a trip into the past where calloused hands moved over their bodies, the same bodies they were taught were meant to be temples only to be treat. 

I was frustrated, hurt to see how much a lot of their lives had changed; some had turned to drugs using it as an outlet to forget, whereas others had found it hard to be entranced by the appeal of love and avoided relationships with anyone like a plague. 

When would it all end?

When would we be able to walk on the streets at any time without having to look over our shoulders, without having to keep a watchful eye to ensure that nothing was lurking in the shadows? 

What a life we live.

After the meeting, I stayed behind and waited patiently for Nathan and Monica. It had been my idea for her to come here, she was unsure at first until eventually she agreed and now observing the gleam in her eye. I was hopeful. Despite her refusing to share, not only was it not my place but I could understand bearing your soul to strangers was hard to do.

"Thank you so much for coming," Nathan said opening his arms to give me a hug. I happily accepted, relishing in the warmth of the gesture still feeling a bit emotional at the stories I heard.

"If anything I should thank you for inviting me. It's truly amazing what you're doing here for these people," I gestured to the room; it wasn't much considering it was a small space that he was renting out for the moment. However, in my eyes, I began to already see the place expanding to reach more people from different walks of life to help them cope with such experiences.

He waved his hand dismissively," All we ever do is talk about what they've been through."

"But sometimes that's all some people ever need," I emphasised boring my eyes into his," A place for them to not only feel vulnerable but a place where they can see that they're not the only ones who've gone through something tragic." I had meant every word of what I said- I hoped that with time more and more people would come forward and not feel ashamed to walk through those doors and seek aid. 

Instead of allowing the abuse his sister faced to wilt away unheard, he developed a support group in the community and offered a platform for anyone particularly girls who've faced abuse or experienced loss to have a place to share and be given solutions to cope. Such that when he invited me to one of their sessions, I accepted without protest believing it would even help Monica.

"Is that how you survived your brother's death . . . by talking about it?" Monica's voice rang in my ears causing me to spin on my heels to see her curiosity peaking as each second passed. I could see she was nervous asking me that question when she quickly raised her hands and spoke, her voice shaking." I-I'm sorry I don't mean to eavesdrop but-"

"It's okay," I shrugged trying to come across as nonchalant yet deep down I felt the opposite, I opened my mouth once more ready to tell her the process of just how I managed to get over his death until it hit me- that I was not over it. 

Sensing my sudden change of attitude, she moved cautiously towards me and laid a hand on my shoulder. "You don't have to answer if you're not comfortable."

I took in her kind words, which did more in developing the newfound admiration I had for her.

"Thanks. Let's go." 

I picked up my bag, and headed towards the door to stop in my tracks when I heard her speak again," Are you in a hurry to go somewhere?"

Peering in her direction the habit of saying 'no' without thinking about it almost held me captive to create some bogus excuse- if it wasn't for my mother's words ringing in my head. 

I needed to just try.

"No why?" I mumbled watching a bright smile overtake her features.

"There's a coffee shop nearby that I love going to. I could use the company if you're up for it."

***

It had been silent for quite some time, I pursed my lips holding the warm mug between my hands as I mulled over appropriate topics, falling short when my mind produced a blank canvas.

"You don't have to feel pressured to say anything," she smiled taking a sip of her warm beverage. I released a sigh of relief, feeling silly at how stiff I was initially at how poor I was doing in stepping more into the frame of what used to be my former self. 

"Sorry, I'm usually not this awkward with people. I guess all the time I've spent in the office has made striking a conversation appear like such an uphill battle," I chuckled sparing a glance at the somewhat busy environment taking note of the people off in their own worlds. Back in my school days, I used to love going to the park; armed with a good book in hand, I would often stray from the words on the page and observe the different people who'd walk around and enjoyed wondering what their stories were.

Those were the days before he left.

"I hope you don't mind me saying this . . . but I read about your brother," snapping my head up at her, shifted back in my seat unsure of how to react. I was used to having people say such statements to me, had grown accustomed to people asking me:

How I coped?

What went through my mind when I heard the news?

"I kind of picked that up when you mentioned him earlier," I was glad my voice had not wavered; instead it came out strong as I began leisurely playing with the sugar packet on the table. Hoping that would hold my focus long enough to keep those depressing thoughts away. 

"You never really answered me on how you manage to deal with the loss."

"I just cope. There really isn't much to it," I replied placing my elbows on the table to gain some other form of support," I don't mention him much simply because talking about that incident makes me upset."

She nodded her head, her eyes shining with something, I couldn't detect as to whether she was pitying me or simply accepting my answer for what it was," As much as I hate to admit it. I'm kind of glad you made me come to the meeting today. Deep down I felt like I was sinking in a dark hole if that group never existed," she looked away briefly clenching her jaw," I would have never been able to look myself in the mirror and feel beautiful if it hadn't been for someone being willing to listen."

Clearing my throat to rid the sadness from tempting the tears to fall, " Let's hope more people will take that step and that more people will be willing to hear others pleas. May be in time people will continue to see how crucial it is to teach everyone the value of respect because I realized over the years abuse can affect anyone, regardless of wealth or gender."

"You're talking about attacking the source," she mumbled wiping the few tears that had managed to escape the frame of her eyes. 

"Call it what you like," I shrugged.

"Is that why you chose to be a lawyer?" I returned my attention to the woman.

"I don't like to feel useless, Monica," I responded truthfully despite the uncomfortable twisting feeling that I was experiencing in my stomach," I have always been conscious of the problems our society holds. And although it pains me to admit it I was determined to keep my head down and not draw any unwanted attention. But once that incident happened- keeping my head down just wasn't enough. Now that I think about it," I swallowed hard," it had never been enough."

"You decided it was best to scream," she responded and I could see a smile begging to form at my actions that many I've noticed have decided to deem as an admirable quality of mine. However, I was never always the type to open my mouth and be vocal; I had meant it when I said I was the type to keep my head down. . . 

Flashback

"So you allowed them to pin those drugs on you!" he snapped gripping the steering wheel tightly. Clenching his jaw whilst I glued myself to the door anxious to burst out of the car once we reached home.

"You should see it from my point of view, T!" I threw my arms in the air hysterically out of frustration at how he hadn't made an effort to ask for my side of the story.

"Fine! Please help me understand how a straight-A student became a drug dealer overnight."

"Like I said for the thousandth time those weren't-"

"Yeah-yeah I know. I know you're not stupid enough to get involved in that type of shit but to everyone else that's not how they're going to see it," he reiterated parking the car in the driveway only to turn and look in my direction. 

Wrapping my arms around my body, the events of the day finally settled in and I wasn't sure whether to scream or cry.

"Tiana, what you do, the decisions you make . . . you have a future to think about."

"Don't you think I know that," I replied no longer willing to look him in the eye. 

"Well then if you know that. Why didn't you tell them that you were framed?"

"I don't know," I whispered under my breath.

"I didn't catch that."

Clenching my jaw, a reaction purely based on frustration, I sneered," I said, I DO NOT KNOW."

"Bullshit."

Scoffing I turned to grab the door handle ready to leave only to have the door locked, turning in his direction I frowned attempting to reach across to unlock the doors only to have my hand smacked away.

"Let me out, you dick!"

"No, not until you tell me why you never said anything. Why didn't you defend yourself? Why did you sit by and allow those kids to-"

"CAUSE WHO WOULD BELIEVE ME!"

I used the sleeve of my shirt to wipe my tears, their slow pace unable to match the fast pace at which my heartbeat feeling small at the cowardice I displayed in remaining silent when I was innocent.

"Tiana," he sighed pulling me close to do the one thing I never expected him to do- comfort me.

"I know I should have said something when they brought out that shit. But," I paused licking the salty tears that had made a home on my lips," I couldn't say anything- those kids had parents who offer a ton of money to the school. Far as the school was concerned losing a donor isn't worth it over me." I hated thinking about it as much as I hated saying it, in their eyes, I was the most likely to pull off a stunt like this in comparison to my other peers whose life was painted in extravagance. 

I felt fingers under my chin exerting a force that resulted in my head being level with his face. His eyes no longer holding rage but a tenderness that had the tears accumulating in my eyes again.

"I don't know where this kind of thinking came from but I don't ever want you to view yourself like that again. I'll admit, Tiana the world we live in has been groomed to have that kind of thinking. But you don't have to follow it much less accept it. Silence . . . is not the right option if it only results in your name being wrongfully tainted-"

"But what if-"

"Get this through your stubborn little head, don't ever let someone- regardless if they have a whole fucking army in their backyard make you cower away and hide behind silence."

I nodded my head, letting the words sink in until one day they'd become more than words to me but would be applied to my actions when I faced another situation similar to this.

He shifted back; sparing a glance at the house which I was grateful was empty considering around this time mom would be at work. The last thing I was in the mood for was her bombarding me with endless questions of how I ended up selling drugs at school.

"You're lucky the school decided to only suspend you. Mom won't kill you at least but she'll most certainly tear your ass up."

I groaned throwing my head against the headrest," Please don't remind me." Just thinking about it had me willing to dig up a ditch and bury myself to escape the searing pain my ass would face. At the sight of the horror on my face, he laughed. 

Though I wanted to be annoyed at how much pleasure he was finding in my predicament, a small smile broke out on my face until I too joined in the laughter. 

The feel of a hand on mine had me jolting out of my daydream to find her staring at me." S-Sorry did you say something?" I asked sheepishly returning my eyes to our joined hands.

"I know I'm just your client but if you ever just need someone to talk to about anything-"

"I've heard that statement many times. And although I appreciate the offer, I'm good. Honestly," I smiled to the very best of my abilities.

I was never the best actress.

However, she accepted my lie keeping an unwavering gaze on me that had me squirming in my seat. It was still too hard to talk about him. It was much easier finding solace in this different form of silence.