IDIOT AND THE BEAST

summary of previous chapter: dan returns home after spending at zach's. he is hoping that his aunt won't be there and at first, he doesn't see her, and falls asleep in his room. then he wakes up when someone knocks at his room's door. he opens without thinking, and it's his aunt. he becomes paralysed with fear and she steps him and corners him but thankfully val appears then and says that their father is calling for their aunt. val looks at dan's face and maybe can guess what is bothering him but doesn't say anything. dan locks his room door again and falls to the door, curling into himself

tw: molestation/sexual abuse (scroll to the end to read the summary if you find the content too triggering)

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CHAPTER 57 — WHAT HAPPENED

[DANESH]

I remember the first time I stepped foot inside this building. I remember exactly how I felt. I hadn't been alone — my dad was with me, but still I had felt like the loneliest person in the world, like I was nothing but a major and total failure. I remember the way my dad had looked at me before stepping into the old, stale building.

He had given me a wobbly, assuring smile, one I couldn't quite tell if was meant for me or him. And behind that thinly veiled smile had been bunches of questions, ones that I had refused to answer, because really what could I have told him? It had been visible the disappointment in his eyes, although he had tried to mask them. I had refused to say anything even then.

I hadn't understood the point in talking — what good would that possibly do, except dig up unnecessary issues, string them up in the air and allow them to hang over our heads uncomfortably. Wouldn't it be a wiser solution to just let it stay buried, and try to forget it?

A few weeks after that, after stepping into that building for the first time and going up to the third floor, walking along the corridor until I reached the third door on my right, where I'd met Dr Franco after a few minutes of waiting, I learned why 'not talking' wasn't actually a wise solution as I'd tricked myself to believe.

Even realising that, there were still some things I felt like I couldn't talk about, not because I didn't want to, but more because I felt like I couldn't. Talking about them, voicing them out loud — it felt like I am giving them life, making them more concrete and solid and real in my mind when all I wanted to do was just... forget.

But even then, I couldn't, all the memories, the... events, they were just as fresh in my mind.

Time, I had told to myself, if enough time have passed, I wouldn't have to deal with all this anymore.

But seeing her again, after all these years, as dreadful as it was, it is like a pouring a bucket of ice water over my head. Pretending that those things didn't happen, and keeping them buried, they weren't of any help at all. In fact, it was of quite the opposite. Those memories they just stayed buried deep inside me and festered and grew into something ugly and beyond my control. I stopped trusting anyone. I stopped going out. I stopped talking, laughing. I kept to myself and told myself that it was for the best.

It wasn't. And standing in front of this old building again, about to meet Dr Franco again, I am finally able to see how it really hadn't been for the best. It feels like once again I am back to where I'd started — scared and alone. But even so, there is this new accompanying feeling with me as well, a positive reassuring feeling — one that managed to convince me that this, what I am about to do, is a step in the right direction. This is something I should have done a very, very long time ago, I realise.

I take in a deep shaky, breath and step in, nodding at the guard in greeting and pressing the button for the elevator. And then on second thought, I abandon the elevator and go for the stairs.