|Lucy: The Story of One Girl's Choice
Author: WolfGirl1931 PM
She had everything. A perfect student, a perfect Christian, a perfect life, 18-year old Olivia Price had it all, until one terrifying and horrific moment shatters everything she believed in. And when her future is called into question by an unwanted pregnancy, her seemingly rock-solid faith is torn apart. Will her life ever be the same?Rated: Fiction T - English - Hurt/Comfort/Spiritual - Chapters: 4 - Words: 14,024 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 2 - Follows: 2 - Updated: 03-18-13 - Published: 10-12-12 - id: 3065133
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Olivia was still sleeping when Jacob got up at six.
Jacob sat up in bed, and rubbed his temple. He was exhausted. He hadn't gotten any sleep since getting that call last night. He stayed up, tossing and turning. Why had this happened to her? Who had done this to her? He'd like to strangle the man who had dared to hurt his princess. He'd like to murder him.
Jacob got out of bed, and walked quietly to Olivia's room. He opened the door and stepped in, leaving the door slightly ajar. He walked up to her bed, where she rested, and turned towards him. She looked like she was sleeping, but he knew she was wide awake, and just as exhausted as he was.
It had been a long day. Lisa and Jacob had been at Swedish Women's Center for what seemed like the entire day, and Lisa hadn't been anywhere near giving birth yet. Around eight that night, however, things suddenly jumped into motion, and their daughter was on her way. Everything moved so fast, there was hardly any time for the doctor to come in before she was here. After the screaming newborn was cleaned and swaddled, the nurse put her in his arms. It was as if the world stopped moving. Jacob felt tears running down his face, as she stopped crying, and looked into his face. She looked so fragile, he was afraid that he would break her. But he knew that she was strong—as strong as her mother. Instantly, he knew her name.
"Olivia," He smiled. "Olivia Madison Price."
Jacob remembered the day that his daughter was born fondly. Never once did he think that something this horrible would happen to her. But, what parent would? You want to protect your child from anything and everything that comes their way. Your child isn't supposed to know what dangers the world has, let alone experience them.
O Lord, why must you let her suffer like this? Jacob prayed. What has she done other than offer herself to You, Lord? Why must she suffer so?
He reached out his hand to brush her face, but he couldn't bring himself to. It felt wrong. Lord, this was his daughter. And he can't even bring himself to touch her.
He sat on the edge of her bed, and stroked the comforter. "Who did this to you?" He asked softly.
"Who hurt you?" He reached out and touched her face, despite how wrong it felt. His eyes searched his daughter's face. He sighed, and got up, giving her a kiss on her forehead.
"I don't know who did this to you, Olive," He said. "But I swear to God, I will find him, and I will kill him."
Jacob gave his daughter one last kiss, and left her room. He felt heaviness in the pit of his stomach, as if a stone was suddenly dropped there. An anger stone, he called it. It's been there before, but it had been years since he felt it sitting in his stomach, growing bigger, and heavier. Jacob walked a good distance from Olivia's bedroom, into the kitchen, before he slammed his fist against the cool grain of the countertop.
"Dad?" Jacob turned to find his eldest son, Jacob Jr., in the entryway to the kitchen, looking slightly puzzled.
"Is everything alright?" Sixteen years old, and Jacob (Jay, he preferred) already held striking resemblance to his father. Tall, lean, with a football player's physique. He had the same dark hair, mildly tan skin, dark eyes. Virtually everything about Jay he shared with his father. From his personality to his attitude.
"Fine," Jacob lied. "Everything's fine." He wondered if Lisa told him what had happened.
"Where's Olive? She's always up before I am. I didn't see her come home last night…" His eyes widened, and Jacob saw the worry on his son's face.
"She's sleeping," Jacob said to his son's relief. "She's not going to be going to school today."
"Is she sick?"
"Something like that…" Jacob felt the anger stone grow larger.
"What happened to her?" Jay whispered, looking into his father's eyes.
"No," Jay interrupted. "Tell me what happened. I want the truth." His glare hardened, and Jacob ran a hand through his hair, sighing in defeat.
"Your sister was raped last night," Jacob said quietly.
The room was suddenly filled with a quiet stillness. The younger of the two men looked into his father's eyes, asking the unspoken question. When his father looked down, defeated, Jay turned towards the wall, and punched it, leaving a fist-sized dent. Rage filled his entire being. He could feel it coursing through his body, making his muscles shake. He cussed softly, and his father winced hearing the obscene language.
"What else am I supposed to say?" Jay whispered loudly. "'That sucks'?" He took a deep, shaky breath in attempt to calm himself.
"Do we know who did it?" He wanted the man dead just as much as his father did.
Jacob shook his head. "S.P.D's looking, but it's only been a few hours. It might not happen for a while, they may never find him. Maybe that's a good thing…"
"How would that be a good thing?" Jacob whispered loudly. "How in any sense would that be okay if he's running around free? Lord knows how many other girls he'll hurt if they don't catch him."
"Who's running around free?" Jay turned to find his 14-year old sister, Rachael, standing about a foot behind him. At fourteen, Rachael was a replica of her mother. Tall and lean like her father, she held the body of a basketball player. Long blonde hair hit the middle of her back, and piercing blue eyes made her the perfect European.
"Where's Olive?" She walked into the kitchen, looking for something to eat.
"Sick," Jacob and Jay said simutainously.
"She's sick," Jacob repeated. "She won't be going to school this morning."
"So early in the year?" Rachael questioned suspiciously. Olivia hated missing school, especially if it was so early in the year. The only thing that stopped her from going to school was vomiting.
"Is she okay?"
"She'll be fine. Your mother and I are making her stay home today. Get ready for school; I'll take you two at seven. We'll talk about this after school." Jacob left the kitchen, and went down the hall, leaving his youngest children looking at each other in slight confusion.
Lord, it's going to be a long day…
Olivia had slept for twelve hours by the time she got up at ten that morning. For one, blissful moment, last night had been forgotten. It was as if it had never happened. Reality hit her like a crashing wave.
I was raped.
Nothing changed that. She would forever be the victim. She would always feel dirty, used. She was no longer a virgin, she realized. Matt wouldn't get the one thing she'd been saving for him. It wouldn't be the same. Would she even be able to wear a white dress if she was no longer pure?
A knock on her door brought Olivia out of her thoughts.
"Olive?" Her mother rapped the door with her knuckles once more. "Olive, Are you up? I made some hot chocolate, I thought maybe today we could have a girls' day in." Was that even the right thing for her to say? Lisa shook her head. What was the right thing to say? To do? Was anything she was doing right? She felt like crying, but she wanted to be strong for her daughter. No. She needed to be strong for her daughter.
"Yeah…I'm up." Olivia sat up in her bed, rubbing her eyes. "I'll be out in a minute."
She heard her mother's feet pad against the hardwood flooring as she walked towards the kitchen. Olivia sat in her bed for a few more minutes, unmoving, thinking. What had she done to deserve this…this pain? This fear? Had she been too prideful in her achievements? No…that wouldn't deserve this as punishment. But what did?
Running a hand through her hair, Olivia gingerly stepped out of bed, and walked up to the floor-length mirror in her bedroom. It was odd—she looked the same. Same long, silky dark brown hair, same icy blue eyes. Her lips were a little more plumb, but that was just swelling from the blow she'd received when she tried to run. She gingerly touched the bruising around her eye. The head injury hadn't been dangerous enough to cause a concussion or any other brain trauma. Even now, it still hurt her. The purple-red bruise, stationed on the right side of her face, stretched from the brow bone to the middle of her cheek, covering her eye. The white of that eye was red. She remembered the intense pain she felt when the blood vessel burst as he punched her eye. She looked the same, but she felt so different.
She ran her hands over the bruises on both sides of her ribcage, just underneath her breasts. She remembered how forcefully he had held her down so it would be harder for her to squirm. She lifted her shirt, and saw that they were shaped like palms. Could that be used against him if this goes to court? Olivia couldn't remember Dr. Chen or Emily taking pictures of these bruises.
Sighing, Olivia tugged her shirt back down, and walked out of her room and into the kitchen, where she found her mother crying into the mug that was tightly grasped in her hands.
"Mom?" Olivia asked tentatively. She stood at the entryway to the room, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Oh, Olive…" Lisa sounded slightly surprised as she looked up at her daughter.
Silence followed, as mother and daughter started at each other, having an unspoken conversation. The shrill ring of Lisa's cell phone broke the empty silence.
"Yes?" Lisa answered, slightly relieved to have the interruption. Of course, the relief was short lived when Detective Black turned out to be on the other end.
"Yes, of course," Lisa nodded, listening to the detective's words. "I'll let her know."
She hung up, and set the phone back down on the counter. She took a deep breath and faced her daughter.
"That was the detective," she started slowly. "She wants to talk to you about what happened, so they can find the man who…" She couldn't bring herself to say it.
"Is that all anyone cares about?" Olivia spoke, the first time in over twelve hours. "What about what I want?"
"What do you mean, Olive?"
"What if I didn't want to go to Swedish last night?" Olivia started. "What if I didn't want to be poked and prodded in places that shouldn't be poked and prodded? What if I don't want a trial?" She stopped for a breath.
"Is that all anyone cares about? Collecting evidence for the stupid trial? What if I don't want that? Or is everyone just going to do what they want? I'm eighteen, Mom. Don't I have a choice?"
"Of course you do, sweetie." Lisa enveloped her daughter in a hug, as she broke into tears. "Honey, we just want what's best for you. That man going to prison? That's a good thing. He won't hurt any other girl if he's convicted."
"Yeah, Mom. Keyword? If. If he gets convicted. What if he doesn't? Then what?"
Lisa was quiet. Olivia left the embrace, giving her mother a slight glare. "Look, I'll go. But that doesn't mean I'm going to be happy about it."
"Mrs. Price, Olivia," Alison smiled lightly, welcoming the two women into the station.
"I'm glad that you two could make it in. Mrs. Price, you can wait in the lobby until Olivia and I are done."
Lisa nodded softly, and sat down, watching the detective take her daughter down the hall. She prayed that Olivia would be alright.
"Now, Olivia, if you don't feel comfortable answering any of my questions, you don't have to answer them. This is just so we can gather any conclusive evidence to find the perpetrator, and arrest him."
"What if I don't want a trial?" Olivia mumbled.
"I'm sorry…?" Detective Black asked, not having heard the young girl's question.
"What if I don't want a trial? What if I want to forget?"
"You don't have to have one if you don't want to," Detective Black started. "We would just like to get as much information as possible about this man, so we can prevent it from happening again."
Olivia nodded slowly, not wanting to talk.
"Okay. Are you ready to start?"
"Can you tell me what you remember of last night?"
Olivia shook her head, weary to begin. She brought her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her knees. "A lot happened," She said softly.
"Can you take me through your day?" Alison asked.
Olivia shrugged. "I woke up, went to school, went to youth group. It was like any other Wednesday." Except it wasn't.
"What did you do after youth group?"
"I stayed behind, and talked to Dana, my small group leader. My brother was borrowing my car while our parents' cars were in the shop. I told Dana I planned on taking the bus, and she offered a ride home, which I declined." I should have taken the offer.
"So, you walked home?"
Olivia nodded slowly. "I know it was stupid. I should have asked for a ride, or taken Dana's offer."
"I didn't say that it was stupid, I was just checking my information," Alison said slowly, choosing her words carefully.
Olivia shook her head. "Whatever."
"While you were walking home, did you notice anything unusual? Anyone following you?"
Olivia told Alison about the Mercedes with the Massachusetts plate. Alison remembered the black Mercedes she passed on the way to the crime scene, making note to ID everyone in the Seattle area for a Massachusetts plate.
"I found the same car at the park just two blocks down from my house. He started chasing me. He caught up to me. Pulled me down into the bushes…" Olivia closed her eyes, shaking. She couldn't say what happened next.
"Do you want to take a break?" Alison asked softly.
Olivia shook her head. "I'm fine."
Alison raised her eyebrows, but changed the subject. "Can you tell me anything you remember about this man? Was he tall or short? Dark or light hair? Clean shaven?"
"I didn't see much," Olivia commented. "It was dark. His face didn't feel shaven, it was like sandpaper, really. Dark hair, almost like mine…" Her fingers laced into her silky hair.
"Can you tell me his approximate weight? Did he look fat, skinny?"
"Skinny, like my brother, only without much muscle tone. He was tall…maybe 5'8"."
"Good, you did very well, Miss Price. Thank you for coming today. I'll call if any information pops up, okay?" She smiled softly.
Olivia nodded, and left without a word. She wanted nothing more than to go home and be in her bed, underneath the cocoon of warm blankets.
"Miss Price," Mrs. Hamilton said, trying to get the young girl's attention. Rachael seemed to be oblivious to the class, ignoring Mrs. Hamilton's questions, as she absent-mindedly dragged her pencil across the Algebra worksheet. Mrs. Hamilton called her name a second, third, fourth time to no avail. Before the fifth, Rachael's friend, Hunter, jabbed her arm with the eraser end of his pencil.
"Ow, Hunter, what was that for?" Rachael asked, finally brought out of her fog of thoughts.
Hunter pointed at Mrs. Hamilton, who was almost cross, with the same end of his pencil. Turning red, Rachael tried not to look her Algebra teacher in the eye.
"Yes, Mrs. Hamilton?" She asked nervously.
"Thank you, Mr. Dawes," Mrs. Hamilton sighed, looking at the young boy. Turning towards Rachael, she decided she would talk to her after class.
"Miss Price, can you please read to the class number five, and explain how you got your answer," She returned to her seat at the table in the front of the class, and poised her hand on the overhead projector, ready to write Rachael's equation.
"Um…" Rachael scrambled her thoughts from her sister to her math worksheet, trying to push Olivia out of her mind for the moment. Quickly scanning the worksheet, she found the problem Hamilton wanted her to do.
"A music store charges 6% sales tax on all items. Ryan buys a CD for $17.50 and a set of headphones for $10.50. Find the total cost of the two items." She read.
"I used the distributive property to multiply one-point-zero-six with seventeen-fifty, and add that to one-point-zero-six times ten-fifty. I got eighteen-fifty-five and eleven-thirteen, which I added to get twenty-nine-sixty-eight, which is the total cost of the headphones and the CD."
"That's correct," Mrs. Hamilton said. She turned to the next student, and Rachael looked down at her math sheet, zoning out.
"What's up?" Hunter asked. "I mean, you're always paying attention to her. Are you okay?"
"Fine," Rachael whispered back. "It's just Olivia. Something's wrong with her."
"What do you mean?"
Rachael shook her head. "That's just it. I don't…"
"Mr. Dawes, Miss Price, quiet." Mrs. Hamilton said sharply. "Unless you want me to assign another page tonight…"
"No, Mrs. Hamilton," Hunter and Rachael said. "Sorry."
Mrs. Hamilton raised her eyebrows glancing at the two, before returning back to the problem on the projector.
Hunter shrugged at Rachael before returning to his work. Rachael zoned out again, wondering what had gotten her father and Jay upset that morning, and what her parents were going to talk about when she got home. Maybe Olivia has cancer… she thought. What if Olivia's dying? She thought of the funeral, seeing Olivia in the coffin, pale and still. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she wiped the thought from her mind.
The shrill bell that signaled the end of third period surprised Rachael, making her jump as it rung out. As she started packing up her Algebra work, Mrs. Hamilton dismissed the class.
"Don't forget—page sixty-seven, one through twenty-five."
"Yes, Mrs. Hamilton," The class droned.
Rachael and Hunter began to walk out of the class when Mrs. Hamilton came up behind them, placing her hand on
"Rachael?" She asked. "Can I have a word with you?" She looked over at Hunter as the two turned to face her.
"In private, please."
Rachael cast a worried glance at Hunter, who returned the same glance.
"Yes, ma'am." Rachael nodded. Hunter waved, a sign of good-luck between the two friends.
"What do you need to see me for?" Rachael asked apprehensively.
"I know it's still the beginning of the year, and I know that it's third period, right before lunch, but I expect you to be paying attention during class." Mrs. Hamilton started. "Now, I know that the middle-to-high school transition is still setting in, but I know that they expect just as much from you there."
"Yes, ma'am." Rachael nodded.
"You've never acted like this before." Hamilton commented. "Is there anything wrong?"
Rachael shook her head. "Just something with my sister…my parents, and brother, are hiding something from me. I'm just worried…they don't usually lie to me, or keep secrets."
Mrs. Hamilton nodded. "Well, if you come in tomorrow feeling the same way, let me know, okay? Just so I know what's going on with you."
"Yes, ma'am." Rachael nodded.
"Okay. You can go now."
Rachael nodded again, and left, heading towards the commons.
She spent the rest of the day in the fog of thoughts surrounding Olivia. What was so bad that Mom, Dad, and Jay had to keep the truth from her?
"What happened to Olivia?" Rachael asked her brother when they got into the bus home.
Jay was taken aback. "What?" He furrowed his eyebrows, and changed his attention from his textbook to his younger sister.
"Something happened to Olive." Rachael explained. "And I know that you know what happened to her."
"You can't keep the truth from me forever," Rachael accused as the bus jolted forward. "I'm going to find out anyway."
Jay sighed heavily. "Look. I can't tell you. What happened to Olive…I can't even think about. Mom and Dad will tell you soon enough. Can it wait until then?"
Rachael sensed the tension radiating from her brother's body, and became quiet. The bus ride home was silent, as Rachael and Jay thought about Olivia.
When the two arrived home, Jacob and Lisa sat them down.
"Where's Olivia?" Rachael asked, getting anxious.
"Sleeping, in her room." Lisa replied softly. "She's had a long day." And they'll keep coming.
"What is going on?" Rachael exclaimed. "Why is everyone acting like there's something to hide? Olive isn't sick." She cast a glare over at her father.
"She's been having a rough time, dear, she'll get better, she just needs some…" Lisa started
"That's B.S. and you know it," Rachael crossed her arms, and stood up. "If you're not going to tell me, I'll ask her myself." Rachael began to walk away, heading towards the hallway, when her father stopped her.
"No, that's not the best idea," He said, placing his hand on her shoulder. "We'll tell you."
Rachael turned to her father, and saw the hurt in his eyes. Whatever it was, it was bad. Worse than cancer, or Olive's death.
"I think you should sit down," He said heavily, directing his youngest back to the living room couch. Jacob leaned against the coffee table across from Rachael and Jay, and crossed his arms.
"Last night, Olivia decided to walk home from youth group," He started. "On her way home, she was stopped by a man, looking for Kinnear Park. She hadn't gotten into the car with this man, but he had been following her as she walked home. When she got off the bus, and headed towards Kinnear, she saw his car, and he got out. He followed her down the street, and grabbed her…" He took a shaky breath, closing his eyes.
"He attacked her." He said, bitterness hitting the back of his throat like bile. He felt the pit of his stomach churn, and the anger stone become larger, heavier.
Lisa wiped away tears that had formed while Jacob told the story. Rachael didn't want to believe it.
Lord, make it go away. She thought. I take it back Anything but this. She couldn't have been…
But she was. Rachael knew it. Olivia had been raped. Hot tears stung the back of her eyes, and she felt her cheeks grow hot. Her head throbbed near her temples, and she felt like she would be sick.
Jay stayed still, feeling that if he moved even the smallest of muscles, he'd go ballistic. Every muscle in his body ached to move, to punch. His brain told him to drive, to somehow track this man down, and beat the living daylights out of the man who dared to touch his sister.
The room was still, heavy with the anger-filled silence. Rachael didn't move. No one did.
I need to see her. Rachael thought. I need to see her.
For two minutes, Rachael did nothing. She just sat there, on the couch, thinking the same thing. I need to see her. Suddenly, as if pulled erect by a string, she stood up. She headed down the hall, slowly at first. Jacob and Lisa followed, but didn't stop her, as her pace quickened. Rachael threw open the door to her older sister's bedroom, feeling the hot tears spring from her eyes. Olivia wasn't sleeping. The two sisters locked eyes, exchanging unspoken conversation. Rachael ran into Olivia's room, and enveloped her sister in a hug, the two girls crying into each other's shoulders.
It was three days before Lisa and Jacob decided that their daughter needed to see a psychiatrist.
Olivia felt awkward, sitting in the psychiatrist's office. Her name, Dr. Alice Cooper, was printed onto a gold plate that was stationed in the top center of the mahogany door. The waiting room of the office was adorned with mahogany furniture, ferns, an analogue clock, and mental health magazines that had Dr. Copper on the cover. Surprisingly, Dr. Cooper wasn't all that old—late 20s, early 30s. Her black hair had highlights that looked almost golden, and was cut in a popular pixie cut, shaved in the back, reaching just behind her ears. The front was slightly shorter and layered, scrapping the top of her ears. Her bangs were on the right side of her face, touching over her eyebrow.
The mahogany door opened, and Dr. Cooper stepped out. She wore black stilettos, black nylons, a grey pencil skirt, and a white shirt with ruffles over her chest. Olivia noticed she wore a simple cross necklace and earrings to match, and she felt slight relief.
"Olivia Price?" She asked, and Olivia got up, slowly walking over to the physiatrist. Following her into her private office, Olivia studied the interior of the smaller room. It had the same mahogany furniture, the same analogue clock, the same plush white carpet. There was a couch, across from which was a coffee table, and across from which was a loveseat. Next to the couch was a bookshelf full of novels, three Bibles (one complete one, one Old Testament, and New Testament), research journals, and children's books. In the corner, by the sliding glass door, there were toys—a pink wooden play kitchen, toy monster trucks, baby dolls, and a chest full of dress-up clothing. The walls held various framed certificates and degrees from Western, Harvard, and the University of Washington. Outside the sliding glass doors, Olivia could see Lake Washington, sparkling in the autumn sun. Dr. Cooper shut the door, and turned to Olivia.
"Feel free to sit down," She smiled, making herself comfortable in the loveseat. Compelled to sit, Olivia sat at the edge of the couch, feeling uncomfortable and awkward. She looked down at her folded hands, and played with her fingers nervously.
"Well, Olivia, I'm Dr. Cooper, but feel free to call me 'Alice', if you want. Is there anything you would like to be called other than 'Olivia'?"
Olivia shook her head. "Olivia's fine." She muttered.
Alice nodded. "Olivia it is, then." She smiled softly. "I'm very sorry to hear about what happened. I can only imagine how you must be feeling today."
"I'm fine." Olivia said, not looking up. I'm broken; hurt. Violated.
Alice could sense the tension in the air. "Do you want to be here, Olivia?"
"But your parents want you here?"
"Okay," Alice nodded slowly. "That's fine if you don't want to be here right now. We will continue the weekly sessions, though. Later on you might want to be here. Many women who have been raped feel fine at first, but as life goes on, they can go into pretty severe depression. I'm here to help you through it. We don't have to talk if you don't want to. We can just sit here in silence for the whole hour, if that's what you feel like doing, okay?"
Olivia nodded. "I don't really feel like talking today."
"That's fine," Alice nodded.
"Can I just lie down on the couch?"
Alice nodded again. "If you want. Feel free to do anything or say anything here. I'm not here to judge."
Olivia scooted onto the couch, grabbing a pillow to support her head on the arm rest. She turned, facing the couch, and curled her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. She began to cry silently.
WIPE AWAY EVERY TEAR FROM YOUR EYES, AND BE STILL, BELOVED, FOR I AM WITH YOU.
Since when, Lord? Olivia wondered. When have you been with me?
Olivia was not at school the rest of that week, nor had she been at church on Sunday. In fact, no one from her family was there, not even her father, who had Pastor Nate take over for him. Nate said that the Price family was dealing with a family affair, and that the congregation should keep them at the top of their prayer list. No one but Pastor Nate knew that Olivia had been brutally raped just four days prior. Not even Matt, or Olivia's best friend, Zandaya knew. They hadn't been in contact with her since Wednesday after youth group was over. But they were about to find out.
Taking Matt's car, the two headed over to the Price house, growing increasingly anxious about what happened to their friend.
"She's probably fine," Zani said, feeling her stomach drop. The Middle Eastern girl swallowed hard.
"Right?" She asked Matt. "I mean…it's probably nothing. Maybe her grandmother died, or her uncle. Maybe her dad got into a car accident…" she trailed off, her mind going to the worst. Images of her friend, laying in the ICU, comatose, flashed through her mind. Images of Olivia's father, mother, brother, sister in the same wouldn't leave.
Matt stayed silent. His hands gripped the wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white. His heart beat fast, and his mind raced with unwanted images of Olivia, dead on the street, in the emergency room, covered in blood. He knew that her family was fine. But something was wrong with Olive. Something was terribly wrong.
"Alright, alright, I'm coming," Jacob said, hearing the doorbell go off several times. He hoped that it was no one from church trying to offer them support. It would be better if people just left them alone. He wondered what Nate had told them, and quickly regretted telling him about Olivia.
"What?" He said harshly, opening the door. "What is it? We're fine, just, please…" He looked up to find Olivia's boyfriend and her best friend standing on their front porch. He felt his cheeks turn red.
"Oh, Matt, Zandaya…I'm so sorry." He ran a hand through his hair, embarrassed. "We've…it's been a long week."
"Where's Olive?" Matt spoke up, trying to keep his voice even. He could feel tears stinging the back of his eyes, but wouldn't dare cry in front of Olivia's father.
Jacob was quiet. He didn't know what to say. Looking into their eyes, he knew that they desperately wanted to see Olivia, and know what was wrong. But Olivia was very fragile right now, and Jacob wondered if she would feel safe with Matt. He knew Matt well enough to know that he wouldn't do anything to his daughter. But that wasn't his decision to make.
"Who is it?" The three turned to find Olivia standing at the top of the stairs, behind Jacob. She peered over her father, finding Matt and Zani outside.
"Olive," Matt smiled, relieved to see her okay, "you're okay. I thought…"
Olivia wrapped her arms around her chest, and leaned against the banister. She was far from 'okay.' Still, she hid behind a smile.
"Yeah. I'm fine. I've been…sick." Her smile faltered, and Zandaya noticed.
"No, you're not." She said, stepping inside. "Olive, what happened?"
Olivia sighed, knowing this would happen. She felt tears coming, and before she knew it, she was sitting on the step, crying. She felt Matt lift her head up, delicately placing his hands underneath her chin. The touch burned, and she bated them away.
"Olive?" Matt tried moving her hair out of her eyes, but she backed away, not wanting him to touch her.
"What happened?" He felt hurt and angry. What had happened to her to make her so afraid of his touch?
Jacob walked up the stairs to his daughter, standing her up. Olivia clung to him, attempting to calm herself. As Jacob walked his daughter to her bedroom, everything clicked in Matt's mind, and he turned to Zandaya.
"No," Zandaya shook her head, not wanting to believe him. "There's something else that could explain it…" She knew Matt was right. She watched Olivia break from Matt's touch. What else would explain her fear?
Jacob returned, Matt turned his attention to the older man. "Who?" He asked. "Who touched her? What happened?" He remained calm, although he felt anger beginning to boil in his chest.
The calm before the storm, he thought.
"I think it'd be best…" Jacob started.
"No," Matt interrupted. "I…we need to know what happened."
"Please, Mr. Price," Zandaya implored. "We're worried sick about her."
Jacob sighed. Maybe it'd be a good thing, he thought. If she tells the people who care about her, maybe she'll stop pretending.
"Okay," He said. "She's in her room. I'll be in my office if anything happens."
"Thank you, sir," Matt said gratefully.
Jacob stepped aside to let them go by. He watched worriedly as the two teens walked down the hall, and into his daughter's room.
"Lord, please comfort her." He muttered, walking into his office. "She's going to need You more than ever."
"Olive?" Matt asked softly, drumming his fingers against the slightly ajar door. "Olive, sweetie, what happened?"
Zandaya opened the door further, and ran into her friend's room. "Oh, Olive, please tell us what happened." She kneeled at the edge of Olivia's bed, trying to get her friend to look at her.
"Olive," Matt walked into her room, and sat next to her on the bed. He took her hand in his, and she looked at him.
"We care about you, sweetheart. Please. Who hurt you?"
"I don't know." Olivia mumbled. "I didn't see his face." She looked down, tears rolling down her cheeks. She angrily wiped them away with the back of her hand, taking her other hand out of Matt's hold.
"What happened?" Matt pressed. "What did he do?"
Olivia shook her head. "I can't…"
"Olive," Matt turned her head, and lifted her head so that she was looking him in the eye. "No more lies. What did he do to you?"
Tears streamed violently down Olivia's face. Taking Matt's hand from under her chin, but kept her eyes locked on his.
"He raped me." She said bitterly. "I was raped."
The room became quiet. Zandaya backed away from her friend in shock. Matt didn't break eye contact with Olivia. After several minutes, Zandaya spoke up.
"How…when…" Zandaya furrowed her eyebrows, and looked at her friend. "I don't…." She looked down, and began to cry.
"Oh, Olive, I'm so sorry." She embraced her friend and brushed her hair back after leaving the hug.
Olivia shrugged out of her friend's arms. "Don't." She said darkly.
Zandaya didn't know what to do. She wanted to comfort her friend—but how? Olivia clearly didn't want to be touched. Touch was the only way Zandaya knew to comfort someone—either by hugs, pats, holding someone's hand, or shoulder. What could she do to comfort Olivia? How do you comfort a victim of rape?
"Everything will be okay," Was she even saying the right thing?
Olivia shook her head. "Yeah. Whatever." She got up from her bed. "Maybe it will." She said bitterly.
"Look, Zani, just…I don't need comfort, okay? I'll be fine. Just…act like this never happened, okay?"
Zandaya nodded. "Yeah." She mumbled. "Sure." How can I forget about this? Olivia's been hurt. Is there nothing I can do?
"Olive…" Matt said, as Zandaya left the room. "Please. Let me help."
"I don't want it, Matt." Olivia hissed. "Just…please. Go away."
:"Olive…" Her words felt like a punch in the gut. There had to be something he could do.
"Olive, please," he begged, "there has to be something. I can't just walk away, not from this. Let me help you. You can't do this alone."
Alone. The word hit her like a ton of bricks. She was really alone, wasn't she? God wasn't there to help her anymore. Her safety that night had only been an illusion. So was everything else.
"I want to be alone, Matt." Olivia stated, looking into Matt's eyes. She watched as they turned from blue with hurt, to black with anger.
"Fine." Matt stood up, throwing his hands in the air. "Whatever you want." He turned to Olivia.
"Just…please. Call me if you need anything. I'm here for you. To help you."
Olivia brought her legs up on the bed, and held them to her chest, resting her head on her knees. She watched as Matt left. After she heard the front door shut, she fell against her bed, and began to cry.