Involved: Brittany Pierce.
Location: Individual Therapy.
Time Frame: July 14th.
Notes: Self-para. Mentions of sex and rape and some insight to Brittany's past.
Thankfully, when the orderlies arrived to take Brittany to therapy, she was awake. She hated when they turned up and dragged her from a peaceful sleep, so to be awake… it was just one less thing to worry about. But then, of course, she had individual therapy, and that was scary enough. The last two times she went, they spent the time confusing her, to the point she didn’t want to speak to anybody, for fear of saying the wrong thing. It can’t be any worse than that, right? She thought to herself, though she knew it could be worse, a lot worse.
Five minutes later, she found herself sat in the same dimly lit room she had been in before, looking around, waiting for the fear to set in.
“Now, Brittany… last time you were here, we were able to learn how… confused you get.” The man in front of her sneered, leaning forward ever so slightly to peer at her.
“Perhaps this time, you would feel better talking about something you know very well… your home life?” He suggested, as Brittany fidgeted with her hands in her lap. She really didn’t know what to say.
“We all know of your relationship with Mr Smythe – it was a rather, impressive performance.” He smirked, letting her know that they had indeed seen what had happened between Brittany and Sebastian. Brittany paled as he said that, but stayed silent, not wanting to talk about it with the strange, scary man.
“Did you have any, intimate relationships at home?” He asked, watching her closely for a reaction.
As soon as the doctor asked the question, Brittany’s mind seemed to shut off, though really, memories were rushing through her head. She didn’t say anything, simply stared at the floor as she remembered.
“Speak, Miss Pierce.” The doctor prompted, knowing he would be getting some good information, as the girl’s face had dropped when he asked the question.
“I-I… he said, he was trying to, force the ‘stupid’ out of me…” Brittany mumbled, remembering how harsh the boy had been.
She was only thirteen at the time, at a new school. She had joined the cheerleading squad at the school, was one of the best dancers in her grade, and nobody could fault her for that – but in the classrooms, she was ridiculed.
She even heard the teachers, how they called her dumb when they thought she couldn’t hear them.
And then that one boy came along… James.
He was on the football team, all B’s in his classes, one of the ‘nicest guys in school’, she had been told. But he was just as bad as everyone else – worse, even.
She remembered the first time he kissed her; he had pushed into the girl’s changing rooms after the rest of the cheerleaders had left, and forced her against one of the lockers. He claimed it was for her own good, getting some use out of her, seeing as she was so useless in classes. It all seemed to get worse from there. After just two weeks, he had forced her to lose her virginity. It was one of her worst memories ever. Maybe even as bad as the pain in the institute. He called her a ‘dumb bitch’, and stupid, and up until the moment he left her, he was insulting her.
The insults rang in her ears when she was laid alone on the shower floor in the changing rooms, and they rang clear even now, years later.
He hadn’t been the only one, of course, others felt it was their ‘right’ to ‘get some use out of her’.
Eventually, she had just accepted it, and in her last year of school before she was taken to the institute, she had actually willingly had sex with the boys, because that way, they had no reason to insult her – they got sex, and she felt some kind of… peace. These boys didn’t insult her, they complimented her, a lot. They told her she was hot, and sexy, and didn’t even call her an idiot – not to her face, at least.
When her memory finished, Brittany looked up at the doctor, realising she had spoken aloud, told him her deepest, darkest memories. The memories which she still sometimes had nightmares about, and the boy who had single-handedly ruined her life. Her cheeks were bright red as she stared at the floor, waiting for the doctor to speak.
“Hm…” He nodded, mulling over everything she had told him, and the look in her eyes saying there was more that she wasn’t telling him.
If it had been a regular doctor, the confession of her memories would have been followed by help, some way of forgetting, or getting over it. But, of course, this was no regular doctor.
She left the room with the orderlies at the end of the session and the words were clear in her mind. She was a slut… a good-for-nothing whore… that’s all she had ever been, and all she would ever be. She had heard those words before, but they had never stuck, not fully. But now, hearing them from a doctor, they seemed to be all she could think about.
He’s right, she thought, as she sat alone in her room, curled up on her bed. I’m a slut… I… I’m… her own thoughts seemed to trail off as she cried, wishing she could go back and change her past, wished she could forget what had happened with James, and all the other boys.
She felt lost, alone, useless, and the two people she wanted to see, she didn’t think she was worthy of seeing. She wanted to cuddle her girlfriend, or go to her best friend, to talk to them and forget about it all, but she couldn’t. Not now. She wasn’t good enough. She was convinced of it, and she eventually cried herself to sleep thinking of it, the word ‘slut’ resounding in her mind.
