Dear Tabitha (10 page)

It’s a little comical how drunk he is, and he’s determined to speak his mind, so I sit.

He sits across from me, leaning forward while trying to maintain eye contact with me. “Do you know that I’m proud of you, Tabs? I’m so fucking proud. You became someone … different after I left. But different is good.”

My heart skips a beat when I realize he isn’t here to lace into me. He’s proud of me. He repeats his comment from the bar earlier and now it’s finally sinking in.

His glazed eyes find mine and he smiles. “I’m sorry, really I am. I don’t know what caused you to do what you did with
him
, but I know that you’re not that person now. Are you?” His voice hitches when he asks me that question.

Absolutely not. I would never do what I did to either of them ever again. I won’t ever allow myself to become emotionally dependent on another person. I’ve learned how to be strong, even if it meant that Alex had to leave me. That gave me the desire to be strong for me.

“No, I’m not that person anymore,” I say quietly.

“Do you …” He stops himself. “
Could
you still fall in love?” He blinks and looks down at the floor.

Whoa. Where is this going?

“Um, I don’t know.” I want to be able to love again, but I’m afraid to open my heart.

“Oh,” he whispers. He leans forward onto his knees and looks around the room.

“Who’s that?” He raises his hand and points clumsily toward Emily’s picture. Shit!

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I suddenly panic. What do I say? I can not and will not have this conversation now. Holy shit.

He starts swaying in his seat and his eyes begin to narrow. He looks like he’s about to pass out. He leans back onto the couch and pulls his legs up. “I’m just going to lay down for a minute,” he slurs.

Shit.

“Alex, wait, you can’t stay here,” I say but he doesn’t even hear me. He’s snoring before his head hits the couch pillow. Oh no! I don’t want him to sleep here. He can’t be here. “Alex?” I say again, hoping he’ll wake up.

He doesn’t respond. What am I going to do? I could call and ask Dax to come get him, but I look at the clock and see it’s almost one in the morning. I realize that there’s nothing that I can do at this point but to make him comfortable.

I go to the hall closet and get a pillow and blanket. As I stand over him, I see the man who has had my heart for years. He’s still as beautiful as ever. His face has softened now that he’s asleep, and I want to trace the stubble on his chin with my fingers. I long to touch him again and feel his hands on me. He takes a deep breath and I watch his chest rise and fall. I want to squeeze next to him and place my head over his heart. I want to know that it still beats for me, like mine has for him all of these years.

I lean over and carefully lift his head to slide the pillow underneath. He doesn’t stir. I move down toward his feet to unlace and remove his black Chucks. Touching him is making my pulse quicken. I cover him up with the blanket, allowing my hands to linger near his chest. “Oh, Alex,” I whisper. I move back toward his face and lightly touch his cheek. God, I’ve missed him so much. He snores softly and turns his head toward me. I lean forward and softly place my lips on his forehead, barely grazing his skin. I close my eyes and linger for a moment, wishing everything was how it used to be. I want so much to move my lips lower to devour his.

I look at the picture that caught his eye before. I can’t allow him to see her again, so I quickly remove all of her pictures from the room. Hopefully, when he wakes up, he won’t have any recollection of seeing her face.

I will tell him about Emily. I absolutely will. When I’m ready, and when I think he’s ready to hear about her. Tonight he showed me that he still cares about me. Oh God, that he may even still love me.

I’m just not ready to tell him yet.

Because I’m not ready for him to leave me again.

Past

Age 17

I
STARE
at myself in the mirror and see tired, worried eyes staring back at me. Dark circles sit on my pale skin. I’m tired. Tired of moving around. Tired of this place that I’m in now. I’m with
another
new family, the Lohmans. I’ve been living with them for six months. This should be my last foster home before I’m forced into a group home when I turn eighteen. I’m not sure which is worse, and I decide that it’s living here. I will hopefully be out of here soon. A group home has got to be better than this hellhole.

“Tabitha, get out of the bathroom!” Lucy Lohman yells from the hallway.

Ugh! I just got in here and she’s bugging me already. I pretend not to hear her and I turn the shower on and wait for the water to get hot.

“Tabitha, you have five minutes, so hurry up.” She stomps away.

What a fucking bitch. These people make my skin crawl. I’m one of four foster children living with them, in addition to their eighteen-year-old, pervert son, Richie. Not Richard or Rich. Richie. I cringe every single time Lucy says his name in her shrill voice.

I strip off my black leggings and tank top, and pull the shower curtain back. Steam rises from the tub. Good, it’s hot enough. The time ticks away before Lucy comes back, but I just need to savor the peace and quiet. I need to feel the warm water on my face. I finish up as quickly as I can, and as I open the curtain to step out of the tub, the bathroom door slowly opens.

“Lucy, I’ll be out in one minute!” I yell and reach for the towel hanging on the wall.

The door opens fully and Richie stands there with his sweatpants down to his knees and a disgusting smirk on his face. I freeze where I am when I realize what he’s doing. He’s got his dick in his hand, stroking himself. Oh my fucking God!

“What the – “ I just can’t get the words out. I quickly wrap the towel around my naked body and pull the curtain back in front of me. His eyes are barely open, but he still stares at me with that sickening grin on his face. “Get out!” I scream. “Get the fuck out of here, you sick fuck!”

“Mom had to run out to the pharmacy. We’re all alone, and I thought you’d want to see what you do to me.”

I’m terrified now. Richie is a huge guy, and he can seriously hurt me if he wanted. My chest tightens and my body tenses. I try to take a deep breath, but I can’t. I back into the corner of the tub, trying to get as far away from him as possible. My eyes scan the room for something I can use to defend myself. I see a razor sitting next to the bar of soap. I’m not sure how much damage it can do to him, but I reach out and grab it anyway.

He moans and his hand jerks faster and faster over his erection. All of a sudden, he tenses up and groans. “Uhhh.” His body twitches, and then he reaches for the tissues on the vanity to clean himself off. I can’t believe what I just saw.

He turns to leave the room and says over his shoulder, “Next time you’ll get to feel that inside of you.” Then he shuts the door.

The room starts to spin around me and I think, “The fuck I will, you sick …”

I gasp and grab onto the sides of the tub as I slide down the wall. It’s getting harder and harder to breathe. I lean forward to hug my knees and the door flies open again. I try to scream, but I can’t.

“Your five minutes were up five minutes ago, Tabitha. Get out!” Lucy bellows into the bathroom. I’m still frozen in place. “What, do you need an invitation?”

“I – can’t – breathe.” I choke on my own words.

“Get a hold of yourself, girl.” Then she turns and walks out of the bathroom.

I place my forehead against my knees and take a few deep breaths to try to calm myself. I can’t pass out in here. Naked. Richie could come back.

I count to ten as I breathe deeply and then exhale. I do this several more times until my head stops spinning. Okay, I think I avoided another blackout episode. I slowly stand, gather my things, and open the door. Lucy waits in the hall and storms past me into the bathroom. She is so damn impatient! I quickly walk across the hall to the room that I share with the three other girls. None of them are here since they didn’t skip school today like I did.

Richie’s advances keep escalating and I need to figure out how to get out of this place. I quickly dress and scan the room for my belongings. Everything I own fits into one backpack. I open my drawer and shove all of my clothes into the bag. I listen for Lucy to finish her shower and dress. I sit quietly in my room until I know that no one is outside in the hallway any longer.

“Richie! Let’s go!” Lucy bellows.

He has a dentist appointment, but he’s not allowed to drive. He lost his license a few weeks ago for reckless driving, so his
mommy
has to drive him everywhere.

His footsteps thunder down the stairs and out the front door. My hands still quiver and my heart still pounds. It’s a very rare occasion that I’m alone in the house, so I need to take advantage of this and leave while I can. I reach into the drawer and feel the envelope that I keep taped to the top. I tear it off and open it up. I have about eight hundred dollars that I’ve been saving from my after school job at the donut shop. This money should get me across the country. I plan on taking a bus, or several buses. I stuff the envelope into my backpack and slip on my boots. I look around the room at the bunks lined up against the walls. My foster ‘sisters’ won’t miss me. We barely speak to each other as it is. I silently say goodbye to the last foster home that I will ever step foot in.

I walk out into the hallway and look toward Richie’s room. If I’m going to do this, I better do it fast. I rush in and open drawers, searching for any money or anything of value. I find dozens of colored condoms scattered in his sock drawer. Ick. The rest of his drawers have nothing of value, either. I look over to the closet and see a lockbox on the top shelf. It’s open with the key still hanging from the lock. What a dumbass. I reach up, pull the box down, and open it. Holy shit! A few wads of bills are rolled up and fastened with rubber bands. I have no idea how much this is, but I take it all.

Now my heart races and I’m shaking like a leaf. Can I really do this? Can I leave and get away fast enough? If they know that I stole from them, God knows what they’ll do.

I have to do this. Now.

I run down the stairs and out the door. I’m terrified as I jog toward the street. I can’t believe I’m doing this! The Lohman’s house is a few blocks from the downtown area. I don’t stop running until I get there. Once I’m on Main Street, I locate the bus stop and ticket booth.

That’s when I see them. Mrs. Lohman and Richie walk toward their car parked on the street. She’s yelling at him. “Richie! You are such a moron. Your appointment isn’t until next Thursday!” She swats him on the back of his head as she gets into the car. He opens the back door and sits behind her. What a weird family. I duck into a pizza place and watch them drive away. I need to get out of here fast.

A bus idles in the street and I run to the ticket booth. “Excuse me?” The ticket agent looks up from his computer. “Where is that bus going to?” I ask.

“Cleveland, Ohio. It leaves in five minutes.”

“How much?” I ask.

His fingers quickly click on the computer keys. “Thirty-five dollars.”

I reach into my bag and grab exact change. When I slide it through the slot, I leave my hand there, tapping my fingers anxiously. The ticket prints out and I grab it from him and run toward the bus. I get there just as the driver is about to pull away. He stops and lets me on. “I was leaving a little early, but I have plenty of room.” He smiles at me as I walk up the steps. After I hand him my ticket, I look up and scan the bus. There are only about twelve people scattered all over the place. I take the first open seat as close to the front of the bus as possible and flop down.

I lean against the window and watch as we pull away from the curb. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Leaving my hometown.

“Goodbye,” I whisper into the window. Goodbye, Philadelphia.

I hope I never see you again.

~

I arrive in Portland, Oregon three days later. I switched buses in Illinois, Nebraska, Colorado, and Utah. Each leg of my trip made the bus only seem more interesting. People would get on and off, and they all seemed to be randomly choosing the cities they were visiting. Or escaping.