Because Repression Like That Probably Comes With Trauma - Tumblr Posts
Beatrice blinks awake, everything hurts. Feeling groggy and confused she looks up at a woman fiddling with an i.v in her arm.
What is her old housekeeper doing here?
"Rosita?" She mumbles, "Where am I? What are you doing here? I haven't seen you since my parents fired you for letting me out of the basement a week early. Gosh, Father was so furious after you left, I hadn't seen him that angry in a while. It didn't help that he was already angry about my grades, that was a horrible night. "
Shuddering at the memory, she pushes it back into the large box of traumatic experiences in her mind.
Despite this, Beatrice strangely feels the need to share everything about that particular incident with Rosita, so she resumes her account.
"Mother had to take me to a clinic that time, instead of a home visit from Dr. Evil," Beatrice chuckles over her nickname of her parents' cruel medical associate.
She continues her ramble, "Father protested of course but there was a lot of blood so I think she was actually worried. Although, I suspect she just wanted me in top form for the upcoming gala. Anyway, it turns out he cracked a rib and I got to stay in bed for a week, which wasn't so bad." Beatrice remembers that week being extremely painful but peaceful. While her parents didn't allow her the prescribed pain medication, at least they left her alone.
"But they still starved me as punishment, and I really missed you sneaking food for me, the woman who was hired after you was too afraid of my parents. Not that I blame her of course, they were quite terrible p-" looking up Beatrice abruptly cuts off her rambling, realizing as the haze of anesthesia passes, this was not Rosita, her kind, sweet, protective housekeeper from her childhood.
This was a nurse that she did not know, who she just divulged one of her more painful memories to - which was supposed to stay a secret, who is now looking at her in alarm and bewildered confusion. The nurse glances to her left and Beatrice freezes, stomach dropping. She registers frighteningly that they were not alone in the room. Slowly, Beatrice turns her head and takes in her friends, her family's expressions, which ranges from surprise, to sadness, to disgust and most of all anger. Nobody says anything and the silence is deafening.
The blood was pounding in her ears. Her heart started thudding in her chest. Her hands began to shake.
This was not supposed to happen. Beatrice was not to speak of these matters to anybody. Those memories were to stay her shameful painful secret. How could she do this? Now they knew.
She couldn’t look at them anymore so she turned away and shut her eyes. It was getting hard to breathe. Really hard.
Oh no, she thought, this is the worst possible time.
Needing something grounding, Beatrice dug her nails into her palms and tried to catch her breath using her usual exercise to no avail. Her chest was tight and she was starting to sweat from her eyes.
Suddenly, there were hands on her face and she opened her eyes to a tearful Ava, worried anger in her eyes.
"Beatrice! Breathe. You need to breathe, Bea. It's okay, you're safe. Breathe, Bea please."
"Ava," She gasps out "I'm sorr-"
"Shh it's okay Bea, you're safe. I promise. We're here for you. " Ava assures in a whisper. "Just try to breathe for me please"
But she can't. It's too much. Now that it's out there, those days are all she can think about. The box erupts and the memories spill out. Her father's angry disappointment and her mother's negligent apathy fill her mind. Reliving every painful moment, every strike, every meal missed, every punishing isolation in total darkness.
Distantly, Beatrice hears Ava desperately calling out to her. She tries to respond but nothing comes out.
The not-Rosalita nurse returns in her eye line to stick a syringe into her i.v. Beatrice immediately feels the effects, pulse slowing, breathing comes easier. Feeling her eyes start to shut, the last thing she sees is Ava haloed by the lights above before she falls into darkness.