Chapter Fourteen
Declan
I sit on the floor of the church, with my back against the wall. I’m shaking, I’m so angry at myself. There was no ‘church’ emergency. I just couldn’t stand being in that house with her, and I got the feeling she felt the same way. How could I do that? Just when I feel I’m breaking through those barriers I go and do something like this, and they go up even higher than before.
I can’t even think about what happened without being disgusted in myself. How could I disregard my vows so easily? Do they mean nothing to me? I made a promise to Him that night in prison that I would get my life together if He helped me through. This isn’t getting my life together. I made a commitment to God and I’ve broken it.
I looked up and saw them approaching me. My heart began to race, because I knew that in here, they had me cornered. I glanced around the deserted shower block, looking for a way out. It was just me and the three of them.
They’d been hassling me since I arrived nearly a week ago. I had done nothing to draw attention to myself, other than be the son of Samuel Henderson, and been convicted of raping a minor. The trial had been all over the news, as was my impending transfer to the adult system. There was no way I could’ve come in here and not be recognized.
Keeping a low profile had been impossible. This wasn’t juvie; it was real. There were men in here who’d been in and out of the system all their lives that were convicted of things like murder and armed robbery. I was in over my head, and I knew it.
While most people left me alone, these three guys had gone out of their way to harass me. It started off with things that I could handle. Verbal abuse, a shove when the guards weren’t looking, but as I refused to take the bait, the intensity of the harassing increased. Yesterday, they cornered me in the back of the exercise yard and punched the shit out of me during a guard changeover. My head was still aching from that beating, not that I’d tell them that. The worse thing I could do is let them know how much they were getting to me.
I glanced at the door, begging for someone to walk in so I don’t have to find out what they have in store for me today.
“Well, look who it is,” drawls Jimmy, the ringleader, like he just stumbled upon me and hadn’t followed me in here. I don’t know much about him, other than I wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley. With his full-body tattoos and shaved head, I know just by looking at him that I’m in trouble. And that was before I even knew about his triple murder conviction. I swallowed, my mouth dry, knowing this guy had little to lose.
“Guys, please just leave me alone,” I mutter. They looked at each other and laughed. My fists clenched by my side, I knew I was doing exactly what they wanted by engaging them. They wanted to hear me beg.
“Or what?” he asks, a glint in his eyes. He steps forward, his two offsiders, moving in closer, on either side of me. “Are you going to get your action hero daddy involved? The thing is, James, we don’t take well to child rapists in here, especially ones that try to hide behind their famous fathers.”
I can’t help it, I laugh because hiding behind my father was so far from what I’ve ever done, it’s not funny. He frowned at me, and I knew I was going to pay for laughing at him.
“You find this funny?” He lunged at me, his hands closing around my neck. His strength startled me. I gasped, struggling to breathe as the other two guys restrained my arms. “How about I give you something to laugh about, fuckwit?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a shiv, stabbing me in the gut. I doubled over, pain shooting through me. He tilted my head up so he was looking directly into my eyes, his lips curling into a snarl.
“Turn him around and drop his pants.”
Gasping, I snap out of the daydream, my heart pumping in my chest. It always feels so real, like I’m back there, about to experience the worst moment in my life. I wipe a layer of sweat from the back of my neck and get to my feet, unable to sit still. If I stay still, it’s like I’m back there, being held to the ground while they ... God, I can’t even think about it.
I pace the front of the church, shoving my shaking hands deep into my pockets, because the last thing I want to do is think about what happened to me in prison.
This stab wound took a long time to heal. I spent nearly a month in the hospital and then the prison infirmary, recovering from what they did to me. The broken ribs and the bruising healed within a couple of weeks, but it wasn’t the physical abuse that left me so damaged. It was what else happened to me that night, the thing I’ve never told anyone about. I’ll probably take it to my grave, because keeping it buried is easier than dealing with it. I still struggle with it more than I want to admit. I still have nightmares about what happened, and they feel so real. It’s like I’m there, experiencing it all over again. Did Cecily have nightmares?
I sit down again, feeling dizzy, like I’m going to pass out. I flex my fingers, trying to get my blood pumping, but it’s not working. I’m shaky and on the verge of a panic attack. I try and calm myself before it breaks out in full force. Focus on your breathing. Just breathe in and out. I gasp, taking in as much air as I can and hold onto it, before releasing it slowly. My breathing regulates, and I’m able to fill my lungs. Prison broke me. It was that one, single event that spiralled my life out of control.
Until that point, there was still hope. I had so much support in the youth centre I was in; I thought I’d be okay when they switched me over to the adult system. I’d serve my time, then get out and fix my life. I’d make something of myself. But after that night, something inside me snapped. I gave up.
Part of me wished I just died on the floor of that prison shower, because that would’ve been easier than living with the pain. I convinced myself that I got what I deserved after what I did to Cecily. When I came to in the infirmary and realised I was still alive, I prayed to God to help me. I promised him that if I got through it, I’d fix my life.
When Jimmy and his sidekicks were transferred to a maximum-security prison for what they did to me, it was like God had answered my prayers. For the rest of my sentence, nobody bothered me. I went through the next fourteen months, numb. I was emotionally and physically broken. I had checked out of my life and was just going through the motions.
When I eventually did get parole, I was out on my own. I didn’t want my family’s help. Not even Lily could get through to me. I brought nothing but pain to those I loved and had convinced myself that she was better off without me. Things quickly got worse. My welfare payments would disappear the day I got them, and each day blurred into the next. I drank too much, I took drugs, whatever it took to numb the pain.
The night Father Brennan found me, I was passed out in an alley, coming down off the high of my hit. I don’t even remember what I’d taken or what I’d done to score it. I don’t remember much of the days that followed. He got me into rehab and insisted that I get counselling. Talking helped, but I never told them what really happened in the prison. I never told anyone. Not even Father Brennan. I was too ashamed that I’d put myself in that position. In my mind, I’d caused that. It was my fault. I could’ve stopped it if I’d want to. They were all classic thoughts from a rape survivor, but how could I call myself a victim after what I done to Cecily?
Then I remembered my promise to God. It was always there, in the back of my mind, but I’d pushed it so far under everything else that I was able to ignore it. After I got clean, I knew I had to follow through on that promise.
Sighing, I bring my knees to my chest and rest my back against the wall behind me. I’m on the verge of cracking. It’s like a single thread is holding me together, but it can break at any moment. I wish I knew what to do. I look up at the ceiling and close my eyes. If you’re up there and you don’t hate me yet, please help me. Stop me from doing something stupid.
Because I have no idea where to go from here or if I can come back from this.
Opening my eyes, I rotate my neck, rubbing the back of my shoulders. Pain burns through me. I ache so bad. I must’ve fallen asleep. I look around, frowning. Anthony is sitting beside me, looking worried. He gives me a smile and I return a frown. How long has he been sitting there, watching me?
“Want to talk?” he asks gently. “You’ll feel better if you get it off your chest.”
“What are you talking about?” I mumble, playing dumb.
“Whatever it is that has you distraught, sitting in the corner of the church, rocking yourself to sleep. Come on, Declan; you’ve been acting weird all week, and now I find you here, alone, at nearly midnight?”
“I’m fine,” I mumble.
“You’re not fine,” he says. His dark eyes study me intently. “In fact, I wouldn’t be game enough to leave you alone right now because I’d be afraid of what you’d do.”
“I’m fine,” I repeat, gritting my teeth, my anger shining through.
“Declan, what’s going on with you? I’m worried and Father Brennan—”
“Why did you call him?” I lift my head and meet his eyes. Why does he care so much about what happens to me?
“Because I was worried about you, and I know how much you mean to him. I didn’t think you would talk to me, but I thought you would talk to him,” he says. “Is it so hard to believe that people care about you?”
“Yeah, it is,” I mutter. I resigned myself a long time ago to the fact that I didn’t have anyone in my corner. “Look, I appreciate that you care, Anthony, but there’s nothing you can do to help. There’s nothing anyone can do.”
“Is this about Anna?” he asks softly. I freeze. What does he think he knows? “That little girl means a lot to you, Declan. She’s lucky to have you.”
“Yeah, well it doesn’t feel that way at the moment.” I breathe out. For a second I thought he knew.
“Whatever is going on, you need to work it out so that you can focus on Anna, because she needs you.” I don’t respond, so he takes my arm, his grip on me firm. “Declan,” he says, “listen to me. You’re the only family that little girl has.”
My eyes meet his, and my blood runs cold. He does know. I don’t know how, but he does. My heart races, but as he stares into my soul, I know he’s going to keep this to himself. Maybe I should tell him everything. Hannah. Prison … everything.
But something stops me. I stop me.
I’m sick of putting the people that I love and respect in situations where they’re forced to lie for me. I’m ashamed of who I’ve become. I was given a chance to turn my life around and I didn’t do it.
I sit there, silent, until Anthony gets to his feet.
“Dec, I’ll just be in the house if you need me. Please think about what I said. Contrary to what you believe, there are plenty of people who need you.”
He walks out, the sound of the heavy door swinging shut jolting through me. I’m alone again, suffering in silence. I stay there for another few hours until I’m emotionally drained. I’m at the point where I don’t care anymore. I get up and wander to the door, pushing my way outside.
I’m empty. I’m done.
It’s after two in the morning when I get back home. Hannah is curled up on the couch. I’m not sure if she’s asleep or just pretending, to avoid talking to me. I’m fine with either. I pour myself a drink and walk down to my room, checking in on Anna on the way past. She’s curled up with her bear, snoring softly. My heart melts. Anthony was right about one thing. I have to get my shit together. For Anna. That little girl has been through too much without me adding to her problems.