Chapter 1

For me, Isabelle (Bella) Carney everything began on my first day of high school. My family had just moved back from Chicago to the small town of Peoria, in my mind a step down from the fast-paced city, but what did I know I was barely 14.

On the other hand, I was happy to be returning to what my parents and the rest of my family considered "home" though I barely remembered growing up there, we had moved to Chicago when I was five.

That morning it was business as usual, my dad had left for work in a city half an hour away and my mom, a dental hygienist, would be leaving after my sister and I got on the bus.

"Don't forget your lunch-either of you!" My mother yelled from the kitchen while my sister Margaret and I sat by the front door tying our shoes. I was taking particular care of my appearance today making sure not a strand of my shoulder length reddish-brown hair was out of place. I had even cleaned my shoes. It was the first day of high school and I wanted everything to be perfect.

As soon as my sister and I had our shoes on we headed for the kitchen and grabbed the sack lunches my mother had packed the night before. My sister, was 2 years younger and still in elementary school and would start junior high the following year. Margaret looked more like our father, slender and dark-haired. I wasn't nearly as tall and had acquired my mother's hair, which I had hated since I was ten.

That, however, was just my luck.

My mother pulled us in for a quick kiss. Didn't she know I was getting too old for this? I was a teenager for crying out loud!

"Mom! Knock it off!"

She tried to repeat the gesture with Margaret with similar results.

"Oh I can't believe you're in high school already! You two are growing up so fast."

Margaret and I shared an eye roll.

Then our mom was all business again. "Right, get going I don't want you to be late on your first day." Glancing at each other, Margaret and I hurried out of the house clutching our lunches and backpacks before she could start getting emotional again.

 

I considered it an improvement the bus was only 10 minutes late. Once inside Margaret and I headed our separate ways to be with people our own ages. It would be a new start for both of us but at least most of the people around here knew us even if we didn't remember them. The bus driver was new too, a skinny black guy, who was only vaguely good-looking. I noticed he had a snapshot of a young man tucked under his visor, but the story behind the photograph was going to have to wait. I had all year to investigate.

I had just taken a seat by the window when a girl with blond hair came up to me.

"Hi, I don't know if you remember me, but I'm Claire, we used to be next-door neighbor's; I remember playing in your yard when we were kids. Bella, right?"

I nodded.

"So… Can I sit here?"

I shrugged.

"Sure," I replied, "no problem."

As the bus started moving, Claire and I started talking and by the time the bus was approaching the school parking lot we were talking like they had been friends forever. Meanwhile the younger kids were dropped off at the elementary school across the road and by the time we arrived the bus was significantly less crowded.

As we got off the bus I got my first look at Stonehenge High, a large building with imposing, columns and steep steps; like the courthouse. I followed the crowd of students inside who were chatting incessantly it was so noisy one couldn't pick out any one conversation. It was then I felt the familiar choking sensation I had been having for about 2 years now, every time I was around this many people… Every time someone started to shout…

Swallowing the lump in my throat I pressed forward hoping I didn't faint, or God forbid, vomit all over the pristine steps. I looked up at school again.

Well here goes nothing, I thought as I shifted my backpack on my shoulder. With Claire close behind me, I made my way up the steps and through the doors of my new school.

2: Chapter 2

The surge of students was stifling. I must have looked a little off because Claire paused and looked back at me.

"Bella? Are you okay? You look a bit pale."

"Yeah-yeah…" I mumbled, "I'm fine."

Claire still looked concerned, but she nodded.

"You got your schedule, right?"

I nodded. I didn't trust myself to speak at the moment, even if I could have been heard.

"Come on, let's get out of this mess. It's a zoo out here and I thought middle school was bad. Let's just find our lockers." Squaring her shoulders, Claire shouldered her way past a couple of startled looking 11th grade boys. I followed in her wake keeping my eyes on my shoes, if only to keep moving.

Finally we made our way out of the main corridor and towards the side hall where the lockers were. It was here I felt as though I could breathe again, there weren't that many people now, although they trickled from the main corridor and from the cafeteria.

"What number you got?" Claire asked.

Finally, I shifted my backpack and dug my schedule out of a front compartment. I consulted the paper, which was wrinkled and had been folded several times since I had received it a few weeks ago.

"#406."

Claire grinned, her sky blue eyes shining.

"Great! I'm just down the row, #411."

Today there wasn't much to stow in our lockers it being the first day of school, simply our backpacks, and in my case, my lunch, which I shoved on a top shelf.

Grabbing a pencil case and an armful of notebooks, I followed Claire down the increasingly crowded hallway consulting my schedule as I went; at least it gave me something to do.

"Who you got first?" Claire asked.

"Mr. Keane, English." I replied. Glancing at the first teacher's name on the schedule.

Claire made a face.

I frowned. "What? He that bad?"

"He's just creepy." Claire made another disgusted face. "My sister had him, because of the size of school he teaches all 4 grades, so once you have him, you have him. She said he's really strict." Claire glanced around, but she needn't have bothered lowering her voice. "Then there was the rumor of a senior that disappeared a few years ago… She went for detention and never was seen again."

My pulse doubled and I felt the lump in my throat return.

"I'll keep that in mind." I whispered.

 

I was so preoccupied trying to get to class on time to avoid getting on the bad side of Mr. Keane I wasn't really watching where I was going and just outside the classroom I ran straight into something very solid, which turned out to be another person.

From my spot now on the ground, I looked up to see a tall boy with mousy brown hair. In contrast to his nondescript hair, which looked like he had run his hands through it several times, he had striking blue eyes, which were currently looking down at me curiously.

"Sorry." He mumbled. "Didn't see you there, you know, you really should watch where you are going."

I didn't answer, I didn't have one.

Finally the boy smiled and extended his hand.

"Seriously," he said, "you really should be more careful. I'm Jeremy, by the way."

I took the hand he offered, it was smooth and warm, and allowed him to help me to my feet.

"Bella." I replied.

Then Claire spoke up.

"You got Keane?" She asked.

Before Jeremy could answer the warning bell rang sending students scuttling for the open classroom doors.

Jeremy shot me a smile that did funny things to my stomach, that had nothing to do with my increasing anxiety.

"What you think?"

 

The classroom seemed just as crowded as the hallway. Claire and I chose seats in the middle of the row. Sitting next to me, as luck would have it, was Jeremy and like many of the students he was rummaging around for the appropriate supplies.

As the students took their seats I glanced around the classroom. It looked like any other classroom except for the odd collection of things that occupied the far end of the room. Several glass jars were filled with who knows what, some of them extended all the way to the window sills, which had an enticing glance of the blue skies outside.

Just then the open door of the classroom slammed. Everyone jumped.

I looked up to see a slender young man striding towards the front of the classroom. He had short brown hair, an average looking face and was wearing an olive drab dress shirt and gray slacks.

As soon as he stopped in front of the class everyone was instantly quiet, and there was an air of foreboding I had felt earlier, but now it seems almost palpable.

"Good morning." He said in a deadly calm voice. "I am Mr. Keane. I teach English and Language Arts. Let's start with roll, shall we."

Walking over to his desk he took the large folder with the class roster and began calling off names. Unfortunately, I was at the beginning of that list.

"Carney, Isabelle?" He called out in a stark voice.

"Here." I squeaked, feeling more uneasy than ever and Claire's story about Mr. Keane hadn't helped. "Bella is fine," I mumbled, forcing the words out of my already dry mouth, "I go by Bella, not Isabelle."

Mr. Keane nodded and made a quick note before continuing with the roll. He still hadn't spoken to anyone directly.

Finally he got to:

"Kipling, Jeremy."

The boy named Jeremy who sitting next to me, raised his hand.

Mr. Keane continued to calling out names in that same brusque tone.

"Rosenbaum, Claire."

Claire gave an equally terse response; she wasn't smiling.

Once he was finished with roll, he snapped the folder with the roster close and set it back on his desk.

"Now then, we will begin with the syllabus and what I expect from each and every one of you this year."

Then Mr. Keane began handing out the syllabus which the students passed to one another in all but complete silence. I had barely been in school for an hour and I knew it was going to be a long year. A very long year indeed

3: Chapter 3

The rest of my day (by comparison to first hour) was relatively normal. I had two other classes with Claire and Jeremy, who seemed to be my only friends in this strange new school. We were still talking as we walked across the parking lot to pick up Margaret before we all caught the bus home.

Thankfully, I had no more anxiety spells over the course of the day, although I still found walking through the bustling crowds a bit overwhelming. I had also learned and then Jeremy's locker was the next row over from mine and Claire's and (not for the first time) I noticed he was kind of cute. I let this pass however, it was still the first day of school, anything could happen.

When the three of us made it to the middle school Margaret was outside waiting talking to a couple of other girls. Nodding at each other we made our introductions. The girls she was talking to, Karen and Stephanie, were from her homeroom. I introduced Claire and Jeremy and Margaret raised her eyebrows at the mention of Jeremy but she didn't say anything.

Unsure of what else to do, I checked my watch. The bus should be here any minute, though it picked up at the high school first. Finally the bus pulled up to the curb, as the doors opened a stream of middle schoolers rushed forward from the school pushing us back. Once this had passed however, Margaret, Karen, Stephanie, Claire, Jeremy and I climbed on the bus behind them, finding a few empty seats in the front. I didn't tell my sister about the insane English teacher, that I kept to myself; for now I reserve judgment to see how the rest of the week (and year) went.

On the way home Jeremy, Claire and I talked about normal things. I watched as Jeremy began making paper airplanes out of his handouts from class. He was about to let one fly when a look from the driver in his rearview stopped him.

"You let that fly you'll be hearing from me." The driver said firmly. It was the first time I had heard him talk, he had a soft southern accent and a relatively kind face. He didn't look that mad, just stern, no nonsense.

Shrugging, Jeremy shoved the paper airplane back into his backpack.

The ride back to our street was uneventful. Jeremy still wasn't at his stop, as he lived a few streets over. Claire, Margaret and I got up grabbing our backpacks.

"Hey," I said turning to Jeremy, "I'll see you tomorrow, okay."

Jeremy gave a terse nod.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow. I'll meet you outside of Keane's classroom, yeah?"

Claire and I nodded.

We made our way towards the front the bus. The kids from our street were just getting off when I thought of something. Pausing I turned back towards the driver, muttering to Claire and Margaret.

"You guys go head, I'll be right there. I have to ask the driver something."

They both nodded as they headed off the bus, my sister giving me a curious look as she did so.

I waited until most of the people had gone and the front of the bus was pretty much deserted. The rest of the kids on the bus were otherwise occupied not paying attention to me or the driver.

"Hey," I called as I my way back towards the driver. "This is going to sound stupid, but I have a question."

"Well I'll answer the best I can." The driver smiled and glanced at me, frowning slightly. "What's your name?"

"Bella," I replied, "Bella Carney."

The driver nodded, smiling slightly.

"Well that's right pretty, Bella. What's your question?"

"The picture you keep in your sunvisor? Who is it? I-I-saw it this morning."

The driver smiled again and reached for the picture in question. Turning it over, he handed it to me. The face staring back at me was of a short young man with a round, smiling face.

"That be my partner, Carl. Works at the YMCA, coaches basketball."

"You're gay?" I blurted, then immediately shut my mouth, realizing how insensitive that sounded.

The driver only chuckled.

"Wouldn't shout that too loud miss Bella, don't want too many people asking questions, at least not yet. But yeah, I favor myself a good-looking man or two."

"Sorry." I muttered, handing the picture back. "I realized I never got your name." I realized I was dawdling and better get going.

The driver extended his hand.

"Name's Steve."

We shook hands.

"Now run along miss Bella, I'm blocking traffic a might longer than I should be. I'll see you tomorrow."

Waving again, I took the bus steps two at a time, running to catch up with Claire and my sister.

 

4: Chapter 4

I entered the house without speaking, it seemed like an eternity since I had left it earlier that morning, and that had been even before Steve had revealed his secret to me. Why he had entrusted this information to a 14-year-old girl I have no idea. Maybe I had a trustworthy face.

"How was school?" My mother asked as soon as she saw me.

 

I shrugged.

"Fine." I mumbled absently.

"Just fine?" My mother pressed. "Did you make any friends?"

"Yeah, a couple." I muttered as I headed towards my room.

"Do you like your teachers?" My mother continued, I wished she would stop asking questions.

"They're okay." I replied noncommittally, before I disappeared into my bedroom; shutting the door firmly behind me.

 

I was grateful to get away from my mother's incessant questions, at least she didn't ask about Steve or why he had been late coming home, but then, no one knew about Steve except me.

I was grateful I didn't have any homework yet, it gave me more time to think. I turned my attention to my diary, which I had been keeping for the past couple of years. I had started it when I was ten, and continued it as part of the school project when I was in sixth grade; it had been a good outlet so I had kept it.

Tossing my backpack on my bed, I sat down at my desk. I kept my diary in a locked drawer of this desk where my sister couldn't find it, or by extension, my mother. Digging around in a particular storage container on the desktop I found the key, which my dad had given to me when I had turned 13 along with the desk which had been a birthday present.

Turning the key in the lock I opened the drawer and there was my diary. It was a stereotypical diary and had a purple and pink swirly pattern on the cover. Opening to a new page, I began to write.

Dear diary,

it's me again, you know, Bella. Just thought I would write and let you know how my first day of high school went.

First of all I met a girl I don't think I've seen since I was four, her name is Claire Rosenbaum; we used to be next-door neighbor's. I don't know how someone with her personality manages to get one over on the eleventh grade boys (she'll probably have a boyfriend before I do LOL). Let me tell you something, she has spunk!

The other person I met is a boy a name to Jeremy. Jeremy Kipling (yes like the author of The Jungle Book). He's pretty cool I guess, I guess a guy has to be pretty cool if a girl is going to run into him on the first day of school. He didn't laugh at me or anything, he just smiled and helped me back up. How neat is that? I think I like him a little bit, diary, but I don't know yet it's still too soon to tell. Providing he doesn't turn into a class A jerk. (Fingers crossed).

This brings me to my next subject diary is the creepy English teacher and nobody's going to know about this except me and the other kids in the class. There's a lot of rumors going around about him, (his name is Mr. Keane.) I don't know, I just get a weird vibe from him and he's always staring at certain people (mostly girls) in a creepy sort of way. Then of course there's the story about the senior Tiffany Crosby who disappeared a few years ago. I intend to stay on this guy's good side.

Oh, and just between you and me diary, I have one more secret for you. The new bus driver, his name is Steve, is gay. Like seriously, gay! I saw a picture of his partner that he keeps under his visor on the bus, and he actually showed it to me! I think he's the only other person other than Claire and Jeremy in this strange school I can actually trust, and after the day I've had come I could use all the friends I could get.

Bella

I was just reading over what I had written when there was a knock on my bedroom door. Having been lost in my own little world I jumped, like I had been doing something I shouldn't have.

"Yeah, it's open!" I yelled.

A few minutes later Margaret's head poked around the edge of the door.

"Hey Bells, you got any of those pictures from the trip we took the summer? Our English teacher wants it for a paper we're writing."

"Just a couple of us by the lake. I think mom has the rest."

"Okay," Margaret replied brightly, "I'll ask her, maybe I can ask dad when he gets home." She scurried out the door without another word.

As I crossed the room to shut my bedroom door again I glanced at the pictures in question. They had been taken shortly before my family had moved to Peoria. We had spent a lot of time on Lake Erie doing all sorts of stuff. The pictures I had on the bulletin board by my door were a couple of me and Margaret, huge grins on our faces, dressed in bathing suits and covered head to toe in grainy brown sand.

Why couldn't I have a normal English assignment, I thought desperately. Shouldn't normal English teachers be asking how your summer went? Instead I have the English teacher from hell, I thought bitterly. While our curriculum seemed pretty normal, I doubted Mr. Keane would have us writing papers about our summer vacation.

5: Chapter 5

By the end of our first week of school, my friends and I were already in a well-worn routine. English in the morning followed by Spanish and history. This was followed by lunch and afterwards there was science, gym, study hall and math.

Claire and I were constantly griping about how all of our least favorite subjects were in the second half of our day.

"Great, just great," Claire complained, one day when we were coming back from lunch, "I start the day with the creep of the century, and end it with all the subjects I detest!"

I nodded in agreement. I wasn't too bad at science and math, but Spanish and history were questionable. I thought it would be fun to learn another language until I had realized I had to learn how to do all the stuff I normally had to do in English. BLEEHHH!

History was just memorizing a lot of stuff, stuff I was sure would be out of my head sooner rather than later. I was lucky I only had to take two years of it. Luckily, I had Claire and Jeremy to keep me sane.

The bane of our existence was still Mr. Keane's English. We were barely 3 days and school before he had a start on our first project a study of any writer or poet of our choice. I chose Emily Dickinson because in a way, she reminded me of me. Claire chose Charles Dickens because he was the first person she thought of and Jeremy chose Robert Frost. As he put it Frost seemed "pretty cool).

When we weren't working on our paper we were taking notes and watching films on the various English writers. At least it gave us ideas for our papers. I was relieved when we had class periods where we could work in the library at least I didn't have to deal with Mr. Keane for an entire hour; he usually sat with a magazine in the middle of the computer lab while we worked. I threw myself into learning everything I could about Emily Dickinson, I had even asked Mr. Keane if I could write a poem inspired by her to which he had surprisingly said yes and even said he would give me extra credit if it was good.

 

As much as a lot of the students hated those papers I found solace in mine. When I wasn't looking up facts and information about Emily Dickinson I had to deal with Mr. Keane and the less I had to talk to him directly the better.

The only thing that made me feel better about Mr. Keane's class was that Claire and Jeremy had my back and it was the encouraging smiles from Jeremy that got me through each period.

"If he ever gives you detention I'll take it for you." He said quietly one day, giving me another smile.

"Uh, thanks." I mumbled, unsure of what to make of this declaration.

The only other thing in which I confided my secrets and was my diary, which was turning out to be a godsend given what I was going through this year. I knew I couldn't tell my parents or we might have to move again and I was just getting comfortable in a new city. As comfortable as I could be with psycho Keane in the classroom.

As part of our English paper we had to meet with Mr. Keane after school to discuss the direction our project was going. He called us in one at a time after school; I was more nervous about this than I was my actual paper.

"I'll wait for you." Jeremy said in a low voice, when I got the notice I was next.

"Thanks," I muttered, "but my mom's picking me up. Hopefully it will only be about 15 minutes."

"Yeah, Claire muttered out of the side of her mouth, "any longer and I think I jump out the window just to save my own skin. I don't even want to know what he does to the girls he gets alone. No one knows what happened to Tiffany…"

We glanced at each other, but no more was said on the subject.

 

That afternoon, after saying goodbye to Jeremy and Claire I headed towards Mr. Keane's classroom. Unlike that morning the halls were oddly deserted. I clutched at my folder with my paper notes tightly, I was beginning to feel that constricted feeling in my throat and chest again and that spacey feeling in my head, it took all my attention just to keep walking. Soon the only thing I was focusing on was putting one foot in front of the other.

When I reach the classroom the door was already open and Mr. Keane was sitting at his desk.

"Good afternoon, Isabella."

I opened my mouth to speak, to tell him "Bella" was fine, but nothing came out so I simply sat down, placing my folder on the top of the nearest desk with a little more force than necessary.

Mr. Keane began shuffling through his notes, so did I, at least it gave me something to do and kept my mind busy. I avoided looking at him, instead studying the tabletop.

When Mr. Keane finally spoke his voice was smooth and soft.

"I really admire you for taking on Dickinson's work." He said calmly, "she's not the easiest poet to understand and her language can sometimes be challenging. Maybe work that into your paper a bit, I think it would make for an interesting read. Of course, there are my requirements for the assignment highlighting the writer's life and writing style."

Then Mr. Keane stopped, he seemed to realize I wasn't looking at him.

"Ms. Carney are you listening?"

Slowly I raised my eyes to look at him, but I wasn't really seeing him, I had somehow blocked his features from my mind.

"Have you heard anything I said? What is the matter? You are such a good student." He gave me what he seemed to think was a soft smile, but it seemed to be more like a sneer or a leer. Then he walked around his desk and stopped in front of me placing his hands on either side of the desk in which I sat.

"What's the matter Isabella?" He crooned, his thin hand reached for my curtain of hair which he pushed back from my face.

I shuddered.

"You're such a pretty and bright girl…"

Words chased each other around in my mind trying to formulate a sentence.

"If there isn't anything else…" I whispered, forcing the words passed my lips.

"No," Mr. Keane replied coolly, "but if you ever want to talk… About Dickinson, I'm here, anytime after school."

I nodded absently then got the hell out of there, and as soon as I had cleared the corner past his door I ran, my folder against my chest, until I was out of the school. Afterwards, I sat on the bench waiting for my mom.

 

Later that evening I scribbled in my diary.

Diary,

What does he want from me? Don't get me wrong, he's creepy as hell, but what does he want. I still can't put my finger on what he is after. I see the looks he gives the other girls in class although Claire is the only one whose vocal about it.

The way he touched me today… But then it's like he's giving me privileges he wouldn't give anyone else. That, I don't understand.

Bella

 

It wasn't until several weeks later when Claire had her meeting with Mr. Keane all hell broke loose, or it was at least the start of something, something that would change our lives forever.

When she emerged from the classroom she had a stiff posture that reminded me of a cat on a hot tin roof.

"He tried to put a hand up my skirt!" She fumed, her face several shades redder than normal. "That's it! I'm telling my parents and tomorrow morning I'm going straight to the principal and to the superintendent if necessary. I'm going to make sure Mr. Keane gets fired," she stormed past me still clutching her books and bag, "for good this time because I'm not going to disappear!"

6: Chapter 6

As it turned out Claire's plan didn't go as well as she would have hoped. Even with her parents to back her up the principal brushed her off saying "oh, we would never have a teacher do something like that" and the superintendent pretty much laughed in her face because who would believe the word of one 14-year-old girl.

Claire was in a perpetually bad mood for the last few weeks of school and a permanent scowl was etched in her features every time she looked at Mr. Keane, but like me, she kept her head down and just tried to stay out of his way. This, however was hard to do when he seemed determined to single both of us out. Jeremy, for his part was supportive and watched our backs, but there was little he could do.

We were still apprehensive going into last week of school. I was relieved to be able to turn in my book and get out of there for a few months. The entire fiasco that had encompassed the last 9 months had done little for my anxiety; if anything, it had made it worse. The only people that knew this, however, were Jeremy and Claire.

I felt like I could actually breathe again when we exited the school for the last time that day and was relieved to see Steve behind the wheel of our usual bus. He smiled when he opened the doors.

"How are you guys doing today?" He asked "You ready for summer?"

Nodding, we said we were and climbed aboard to find our usual spot at the front of the bus sharing a seat.

When we got to our stop I said a much-needed goodbye to Steve, after all, he had been such a great friend to me all those days where I had loads of homework or Keane had given me a hard time.

"I guess I'll see you in the fall." He said with another smile.

"Yeah," I replied, hoisting my backpack over my shoulder, "guess so. See you, Steve!"

Steve waved as he closed the bus doors.

 

After school ended, I turned my attention to fully enjoying my summer vacation. It seemed Jeremy and Claire were doing the same and they were frequent visitors at the house. My mother seemed glad my sister and I had made friends and the house was never quiet for long. It was times like this I was grateful we had moved.

I spent as much time with Jeremy and Claire as I had during the school year. We rode our bikes and went swimming at the local pool. I enjoyed spending time with Jeremy, who was much easier to talk to than a lot of the other boys my age. Sometimes it would just be the two of us; riding our bikes down the Rock Island Trail or begging our parents to take us to the nature reserve in Peoria Heights where there were more trails we could explore. It was over these adventures we got close, very close.

Even Claire seemed to notice.

"You seem to be spending a lot of time with Jeremy these days." She observed one afternoon when we were hanging out.

I shrugged, as I applied another coat of nail polish to my toenails.

"Yeah, so. I like Jeremy, he's a nice guy and he gets me."

"And I don't?" Claire asked, pretending to be offended.

"Yeah, you do, but in a different way. Jeremy's more… Subtle."

"I'm not subtle?" Claire asked.

"Not in the least!" I tossed back with a grin. "Claire, you're subtle like a boulder… You practically ran over those eleventh graders at the beginning of the year. I think you scared them."

Clear snorted.

"Please. I doubt any of them would ever look at me."

"Oh, they were looking at you, but I can't decide whether was out of shock or fear." I neglected to mention Claire was tall for her age and dropdead gorgeous. Some of the sophomores had been trying to recruit her for cheerleading.

My sentence was punctuated by a pillow in the face, which almost upset the nail polish all over Claire's bedspread.

"Shut up, Bella. You make me sound like an ogre!"

We cracked up.

"Hey, it's the truth. Not my fault you're going to need a boyfriend with some backbone."

We grinned at each other before cracking up again.

 

As much as I love my time swapping girl stories with Claire, it was the moments Jeremy that really made me smile that summer. We went biking and hiking so often Jeremy had taken to bringing a backpack so we had snacks, water and the essentials when we were out all afternoon. One afternoon was such a trip. We had traveled deep into the woods before stopping to rest against some particularly large maple trees.

"I wouldn't have thought you were the outdoors type." Jeremy mused as he put down the kickstand on his bike.

"Well, there's a lot you don't know about me." I said.

"Then who was that girl Bella I met at school last year? The girl I see now seems totally different."

"Well…um…" I mumbled, flushing. I seriously didn't know. "You know how the anxiety messes with my head."

"Uh huh." Jeremy murmured nodding. "Moving on."

I was exasperated now.

"Well how else you expect me to react!" I exclaimed. "With Keane breathing down my neck every day; he gives me the creeps, like, for real!"

Jeremy chuckled.

"Well you know I got your back." He slid an arm around my shoulders which sent shivers down my spine. He pulled me closer. "If he's going to mess with you he's going to have to go through me first."

For a long time we just stared at each other and I wondered if he was going to kiss me because I knew he was definitely thinking about it. After a while, however, we pulled apart and got back on our bikes. As we headed back up the trail I was left wondering.

What if?

 

One of my favorite memories of that summer (besides my nearly daily bike rides with Jeremy) was the cookout that Claire and her family threw shortly before the end of the summer. Their house was more crowded than I had ever seen it since nearly everyone had invited someone else. It was the perfect weather and Mr. Rosenbaum was grilling on the back deck. We had burgers and hotdogs and Mrs. Rosenbaum said she would make s'mores for everyone. It was just a good hangout; this was definitely going in my diary later.

 

Dear diary,

I had the best time with my friends and family tonight, Claire's parents invited a few families and our friends over for a cookout. All the food Mr. Rosenbaum grilled was awesome and Claire and her mom made s'mores for everyone (best summer ever!) That however, diary, isn't even the best part! When we were roasting our s'mores and Jeremy was sitting right next to me and as you know, s'mores are very messy and I got mine all over my face (awkward, right?) Well Jeremy just very casually reached over and wiped the marshmallow off my face with his finger, which he immediately stuck back in his mouth.

Now normally I would've been grossed out, but it was kind of cute. Then he was just looking at me with those intense blue eyes (did I mention how much I love his eyes?) Then he very slowly leaned over and kissed me!

It was just the coolest kiss ever! He tasted all sweet and hot like chocolate and marshmallows-yum! And he spent about 5 minutes kissing my face, like he was going to lick all the marshmallow off my face. I don't even know if I kissed him back, but it must not have been that bad because when we pulled apart he was smiling.

"I've been wanting to do that since the first day I met you." He said.

"Lick my face?" I teased.

He grinned.

"No, kiss you of course!"

I grinned back, trying not to sound as nervous as I felt.

"Good to know."

Good night diary, I think I'm happy for the first time in a long time.

Bella

7: Chapter 7

My "summer romance" with Jeremy lasted about as long as our parents expected. We broke up the week before school started.

"So," my mother said casually a few days before my sophomore year was to begin. "You not seeing Jeremy anymore?"

I shrugged.

"I mean, we're still friends, but we agreed it was best if maybe we put it off for a little bit."

My mother nodded, without saying much of anything.

"Well, that's very mature of you Bella."

I nodded absently, before grabbing an apple off the counter and heading back up to my room.

 

My first day of sophomore year was nowhere near as intimidating as my freshman year had been. For one, I had Claire and Jeremy and I knew they had my back if anything came up. I was a little bit happier with my schedule than I had been the previous year, and was glad I didn't have to start the day with Mr. Keane although he was still part of my morning.

Instead I started my day with Mrs. Hamilton's  history class which I had with Jeremy. We sat a few seats behind each other, which gave me some level of reassurance; school still made me a bit jittery. Mrs. Hamilton was a square shaped good-natured looking woman and I can tell she generally enjoyed what she taught.

"You okay Bella?" Jeremy asked as he pushed his way through the crowd of students to catch up with me following class.

I nodded, shuffling my notebooks and folders in my arms as I grabbed for my schedule.

"Who you got next?" Jeremy asked as we exited the classroom together, while Mrs. Hamilton continued to call instructions to departing students.

"Math." I made a face, which made Jeremy laugh.

"Oh it's not that bad," Jeremy replied casually, "who you got?"

"Clark." I replied as we made our way through the crowd of students. At least talking to Jeremy made me forget how claustrophobic I felt.

"I got algebra." Jeremy replied, "and then English, with you." He smiled. My chest felt slightly lighter as we parted ways.

 

My upbeat mood barely lasted through my next class. Mr. Clark was a thin young man in his early thirties; similar in age to Mr. Keane, but he had a much more pleasant face. He put me in mind of a stork with his slender figure which got eclipsed by his slightly baggy trousers; the sight always made me smile. Mr. Clark was soft-spoken, but no nonsense and despite with the ease that he taught his subject he pulled no punches. I left the classroom feeling I might actually enjoy math that year.

Following second hour, I was met outside Mr. Clark's classroom by Claire and Jeremy and we walked together from one end of the school to the other; towards Keane's classroom.

"What fresh new horrors of the English language does Mr. Keane have in store for us this year?" Jeremy asked.

Claire shrugged. She was dressed in her typical classy fashion wearing a skirt or dress. I was too lazy to put in that much effort, I didn't even wear that much makeup.

"I don't know, Jer, your guess is as good as mine."

 

If last year had been any indication, Jeremy, Claire and I had learned there was safety in numbers particularly when it came to Keane's class, so we chose three desks in the back, where we could avoid being seen if necessary.

I tuned out most of Mr. Keane's first day lecture, but was pleased to find out thanks to the second page of our syllabus we were covering poetry later in the semester. At least we would be doing something I enjoyed. I had discovered the previous year I enjoyed writing even more so than just my occasional diary entry.

I only spoke when I was spoken to and only gave my name when I was called on. So far, so good, no creepy looks from Keane yet.

I was almost in the clear when Mr. Keane stopped me as I was leaving class.

Immediately Jeremy and Claire turned around; they both looked concerned.

"You go on ahead," I muttered, "I'll be along in a minute."

Reluctantly, they nodded and turned to go.

"See you in the cafeteria." Claire muttered, "our usual spot; Jeremy wanted to see if they had chocolate milk today."

With some trepidation I turned back to Mr. Keane. When I looked up at him he was almost smiling.

"Do you like the lessons I chose Isabella?" He asked. "When I chose the writing assignments for later in the semester I thought of you."

I shuffled my feet nervously.

"Yeah," I mumbled, "they're great, should be fun."

 

"Well I hope you enjoy them." Mr. Keane repeated in that same soft voice. It was only then I realized he had a hand on my shoulder. Hastily, I moved to back away.

"Well I better get to lunch!" I blurted hurriedly, "My-my friends are waiting for me!"

Mr. Keane nodded.

"You run along then," he said mildly, "I'll see you tomorrow."

I moved as quickly as I could. I dumped my supplies in my locker before sprinting to the cafeteria where Jeremy and Claire were waiting.

"What did Keane want?" Claire asked, though by the look on her face I figured she already knew the answer.

I gave them the short version and the scowl on Jeremy's face, which had been growing steadily in the past few minutes, deepened.

"That pervert!" He spat viciously, "It's like he's trying to seduce you! I bet he's been doing that the girls as long as he's been teaching here, but none of them has come forward about it."

We all fell silent following this pronouncement, it was something none of us wanted to talk or think about.

 

Jeremy became like my shadow over the next several days. He had taken to holding my hand again which he hadn't done since the summer and stayed close whenever he could. The rumors about Mr. Keane had started flying again, even more persistently than before. Most of the rumors came from girls my age or older and I heard the words "creep" and "pervert" used frequently.

"Never go into his classroom alone." A junior girl told me in passing, that's how it starts and he tries to get you alone. He tried put his hands up my skirt once and I was lucky the janitor walks by or I would've screamed bloody murder."

The rumors did nothing to ease my anxiety. Some of the more far-fetched while others seemed a bit more grounded.

"It starts with what they called "grooming behavior". A senior confided, "My sister is studying to be a cop going into sex crimes and she told me about it. The pedophile or whatever tries to get the subject, male or female, to like him, or her, so they do stuff to make the juvenile like them."

Claire and I seem to take this information very seriously. We were still traveling with Jeremy in a tightknit group, as were many of the female students in the school. Certainly any of them that had Keane tended to give him a wide berth and avoid him as much as possible when they saw him outside of class.

"He's not in a try anything with the teachers watching." Jeremy said, "He's not stupid."

"Of course not!" Claire shot back, "Why do you think he tries to get the girls alone when the school is practically empty?"

Well," Jeremy's jaw was set in a firm, hard line, "if he's going to try anything with you guys he's going to have to go through me first. If the school doesn't listen, I'll go to the cops."

8: Chapter 8

This chapter was fairly difficult to write, explaining the type of person Mr. Keane really is. While I won't go into details quite yet this is the set up for what happens to Bella, Mr. Keane and the rest of the characters for the rest of the story.

This is also the one chapter that was based off a particular dream I had, since I been having a lot of dreams about weird things happening to me in a school setting, even though I've been out of school for years.

...

When most people have a bad day is a series of unfortunate circumstances. My "bad day" however, was more like a series of unfortunate events, that all started with, oddly enough, muffins.

It had been one of the few weekends Claire was unable to hang out since she had a family function she had to attend, but she promised to bring me some of the "awesome food" her mom and her aunt were making that weekend. With the memories of the Rosenbaum's summer barbecue still in mind I didn't refuse, anytime I can get free food was fine with me.

Turns out, those muffins would be more trouble than they were worth.

 

Claire and I met up on our way to first hour Monday morning. It was a rare occurrence Jeremy wasn't with us but he had a doctor's appointment which his mother only scheduled for later that morning. I only hoped he would be back by the time our class with Keane rolled around. As we made our way down the hallway towards our classes Claire shoved a bag of muffins into my hands.

"My Aunt Emily's famous blueberry muffins." She said with a grin, "Seriously, you'll feel like you've died and gone to heaven."

I grinned back at her.

I can't wait to try one." I replied as I shoved the bag into the satchel I was currently caring, at the moment it seemed more convenient than a standard backpack.

My first 2 hours went to decently enough. I actually managed to scrape decent grades on my first two major assignment in history and math. Afterwards I met up with Claire we headed for Keane's classroom at the other end of the hallway.

"When did Jeremy say he would be back?"

"When he texted me this morning he said he would be back by lunch. What did Keane say we were starting today? The Diary of Anne Frank?"
 

I nodded.

"At least he's giving us a break from the grammar for once." I muttered as we followed the queue of students through the door. Not for the first time I wished Jeremy was in class as he was one of my only buffers between myself and Keane. I appreciated my friends' willingness to stand up to the teacher, I was not the most assertive or extroverted person in the world and I was more than grateful for the backup.

Keane's class was uneventful until about halfway through the lesson. He was giving us the rest of the hour to read the first chapter; although we had to answer questions afterward, which I would save for later. There was no guarantee I would have time in class anyway.

Just as I was reaching for my book, the muffins Claire had given me earlier tumbled from my bag and unceremoniously spilled on the floor. I was trying to begin to clean up the mess when I saw him. At first, all I saw were his pair of pristine loafers and slowly I followed them up to his face, which was set in a grim line.

"Ms. Carney? What are you doing?"

"I'm just trying to clean this up." I replied matter-of-factly, "They fell out of my bag. I'm sorry." I replied hastily, my face going red.

"And what, is food doing in my classroom?"

"Claire gave them to me." I replied in a small voice, "We were already on the way to class and there wasn't time to go back to my locker."

"I see." Mr. Keane said in a deadly calm voice.

He pointed towards the door.

"Carols now! I'll be out shortly to discuss your punishment."

Then he bent and picked up and picked up the bag of muffins. Which he resealed and stowed in a bottom drawer of his desk.

"The rest of you return to your reading!" He snapped, "No talking!" Then he grabbed my arm and pulled me from the room. I barely caught a glance of Claire, who looked alarmed but apologetic, then she quickly returned to her book before Keane noticed. That was the last thing I remember seeing before the door slammed behind us.

 

I slunk into the study carol Mr. Keane appeared a few minutes later, still glowering.

"Maybe it's time I teach you a lesson, a lesson I've been wanting to teach you since last year."

I swallowed. The lump in my throat suddenly robbing me of my ability to speak.

Then he was undoing his belt the sound of the leather and metal snapping ominously. I knew what was coming without asking, and suddenly I was trembling more than I had the previous year. I could feel the anxiety building, but it battle with the hopelessness that seemed to have me glued in place.

"Stand up! You silly girl! Stand up!"

Knees trembling I did as I was told.

Then he pulled me to him. I could feel the power of his body and the swell in his trousers. He suddenly seemed very powerful and it occurred to me they he could over take me easily, very easily. His hands worked quickly with the zipper of my jeans then me pushed down my pants and underwear. Cold air hit my bare legs and sensitive parts. I trembled more.

I don't remember much after that, I don't even think I screamed or cried, everything within the seemed to have shut down. I was simply a black mass of nothingness.

 

 

When he was done, Mr. Keane pushed me away.

"Fine! You better not ever mention this to anyone; even your little friends. Go to the principal maybe she has a better idea of what to do about this; suspension maybe… Get out of my sight!"

Numbly I scrambled for my rumpled clothes pulling them up the best I could then I dashed down the hall in the direction of the principal's office, cold air still chilling my damp and sore skin. I was still shaking and didn't feel the tears until I was halfway down the hall. I don't remember my "walk of shame" to the principal's office. After that everything was a blur. I didn't even need the horrified look the secretary gave me, or the "what happened, who did this?" From the equally horrified principal.

Immediately she sat me down in a nearby chair, then ordered me to go to the school nurse.

"I'll be along shortly Ms. Carney, I'm calling your mother."

9: Chapter 9

The school nurse was, a kind, but understated woman. She had a motherly type of face with short strawberry blond hair. I think she kind of reminded me of one of my aunts, but I couldn't be sure which one.

"Would you like to tell me what happened, dear?" She asked gently, "We can take all the time you wish."

I shook my head, pressing my lips together. I didn't feel like talking; I felt dirty and disgusting; not to mention my rumpled clothes and unbuttoned jeans.

The nurse, Mrs. Holly seemed as if she had expected this answer and didn't press the point.

"Well, Mrs. Jefferson and your mother should be along shortly…" She paused briefly before she spoke again, "… I'll get you some water." She bustled out of the room without waiting for a response.

 

It was the longest 15 minutes of my life, or perhaps it was longer I didn't know. I sat there in one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs with my arms folded tight across my chest staring at nothing in particular. My mind was a jumble of thoughts, none of which I wanted to focus on at the moment. Where would I go now? Would my parents take me out of school?

I was so lost in thought I jumped when the door to the nurses office opened. Mrs. Jefferson entered, closely followed by my very anxious looking mother. Immediately she rushed over as if  she had to see for herself I was alright.

"Bella, are you alright? Of course you're not alright. Oh, how could this have happened? If you ask me they should fire that man immediately!"

My mother immediately stopped talking once she realized she wasn't getting a response.

She rounded on Mrs. Jefferson.

"So what does the school intend to do about this?"

"We of course will investigate and see if there are any other students who are willing to come forward, but if no one is willing to press charges there isn't much we or the authorities can do."

My mother looked disappointed.

"We, of course, my husband and I will be pressing charges. That the man is teaching children…"

Then she turned to Mrs. Holly.

"As she told you anything? Do you know what happened?"

"I'm afraid not. Hasn't said a word since she came down to the office."

My mother gave me another critical look, frowned, but didn't say anything.

"So what do we do?"

"I would take her to the nearest ER and have a rape kit done by a professional. I'm sorry, I don't have the materials here; particularly if it ends up going to the authorities."

My mother nodded stiffly then turned back to Mrs. Jefferson.

"Do you mind if I call my husband? He would want to know about this.

Mrs. Jefferson nodded.

"Of course."

They left the room, once again leaving me alone while Mrs. Holly went to attend to other matters.

 

My mother returned a few minutes later still looking frazzled.

"Come on Isabelle, let's get down to the hospital since everyone seems to think that's what is best. Don't worry about school, we'll take care of that later. Then without another word, she nodded at Mrs. Holly and Mrs. Jefferson and we left the office; her hand firmly on my shoulder. I let myself be steered, I didn't have the energy to fight.

 

The ER was about what I expected: cold, white and clinical. As soon as my mother communicated what she wanted, after a short wait I was ushered into triage and told to wait and that a nurse would be with me in the moment.

I wanted nothing more to rip my clothes from my body and take a nice hot shower, but I was in neither a time nor place to do so, so I simply waited.

Finally I spoke to my mother who was sitting in a chair nearby.

"Mom, do you think when they do the exam you could leave?"

My mother looked surprised and disappointed.

"Sure honey, are you sure you don't want me here?"

"No mom," I replied, "please, this is embarrassing enough."

 

A short time later, a young but serious looking nurse came in. Her brown hair was pulled back in a jaunty ponytail, but I was relieved she didn't ask me how I was. I had told enough people today and I was tired of lying.

"Please take all your clothes off and put them in these bags." She instructed. "Then put this gown on." Then she left the room. A few minutes later so did my mother, she still looked concerned but carefully shut the curtain behind her.

I did as instructed grateful to get the clothes off. I was sure I would never wear them again even if I did get them back. Afterwards, the nurse came back in she was pushing a small cart with several swabs on sterile sheeting; without asking I knew where the swabs would go.

"Just lay there for me and pull your knees up and spread your legs. That's it. This won't take long, I promise.

I lay is still as I could while she went to work swabbing several areas on my inner thighs and a few more sensitive areas. I only whimpered when she touched a particularly sensitive spot.

"We may need to get a doctor in here, to check for internal damage. Although I see quite a bit of bruising…"

She bustled out of the curtained area and it was several minutes before she returned with who I assumed was a doctor. The doctor, thankfully female spoke softly as she peered between my legs. Muttered something about "forced penetration and a "minor tear" before nodding and conferring with a nurse.

Afterwards, the nurse finished up what she was doing and bustled out of the room with the swabs now in little containers. When she returned again she was carrying a stack of comfortable looking clothes.

"Afraid these will have to do for now. You can shower and change when you get home if you like."

I nodded mutely and got dressed as quickly as I could, now realizing how sore the lower half of my body really was. I felt like parts of my insides had been rubbed raw. I wondered if I would ever pee again, but figured I would cross that bridge when I came to it.

As I was pulling on my shoes, I could hear my mother talking to the nurse in the hallway.

"She'll be sore for a few days, and I would recommend consulting her primary doctor as well. Better safe than sorry and do a pregnancy test."

This statement seem to jam my brain and I could feel panic rising in my throat and chest again. Pregnant? A baby? I couldn't handle a baby and I definitely didn't want his baby. My mother still sounded tearful, but she must have consented because she appeared around the curtain a few minutes later.

"Come on Bella, time to go home. I think we've all had enough for one day." She gave a wan smile and we walked out of the ER in silence.

The ride home was uneventful neither of us spoke much. All I wanted to do when I got home was take a shower and go to sleep. (If I could sleep.)

10: Chapter 10

My mother kept me home for the next few days. She thought I could use the rest and a break, but she didn't say anything more than that. Frankly, I was relieved not to go to school, I couldn't face anyone, even Claire and Jeremy, and I definitely didn't want to see Mr. Keane again.

Claire and Jeremy called or texted every day after school, but the calls were brief; I didn't feel like talking to them, even if they were my best friends, and I had nothing to say. What could I say?

They both seemed eager to "fix" me, and were firing questions at random intervals. They both wanted details, but I didn't want to relive the incident again. Telling the nurses and doctors had been bad enough, and if my parents decided to press charges I would have to tell it to an entire room of strangers. That made me anxious just thinking about it.

My mother had taken off work so I could stay home. Even though I assured her I can take care of myself, she insisted I couldn't stay home by myself. That, she said, was out of the question. When I wasn't by myself in my room I could hear my parents talking. They talked in low, hushed voices as if someone had died. They were talking about me, counseling and going to the doctor again.

"What if that bastard did get her pregnant!" My dad bellowed from the kitchen. "She's barely 16!"

"If Bella is pregnant will deal with it." My mother replied calmly.

"When will you know?" My dad asked as he sat back down.

"I'll get her in to see my obstetrician as soon as I can. She's not showing any signs yet, so I'm not worried."

"Easy for you to say." My dad grumbled. "I want to find where this guy lives and incinerate his balls!"

My mother sighed.

"Despite the circumstances, I hope you refrain from that." She replied in a neutral voice.

 

I saw my mother's obstetrician later that week. She was a nice woman in her early forties and she looked sympathetic as soon as she saw me. I wished she wouldn't.

"Well let's see what we're dealing with here." She murmured in a soft voice. "If you are in fact pregnant. I'm going to need a urine sample okay?"

I nodded mutely and headed for the bathroom.

"Leave it on the counter when you're done," she instructed, " I'll be back in a few minutes."

 

Much to everyone's relief, I was not pregnant. At least not yet. That didn't relieve my anxiety much and did little to keep me from reliving it every time I close my eyes. I would had been miserable until my mother dragged me to the counselor if it hadn't been for what happened the following weekend.

It was a normal day. Mild for early fall and I was helping Margaret with the chores. I was cleaning my mother's favorite vase when it happened. I could see it so clearly. Mr. Keane's twisted, triumphant face… His body bearing down on me…

Everything seemed to happen in slow-motion. The panic started somewhere in my throat and moved to my chest. Then it moved down to my stomach tying it in knots. My head spun and throbbed, and still I kept seeing flashes of his face; his cold gray eyes and firm, serious mouth. It was as if everything inside me collapsed, my senses slowly leaving my body as if I were dying and they faded one by one. At first I couldn't hear, then I couldn't see and everything faded into being caught between Mr. Keane and a swirling darkness.

 

The next thing I knew I was lying on the floor. The only thing that brought me back to reality was the sharp pain in my hand. It was then I realized I had cut myself and my hand was bleeding, the vase was in pieces, and Margaret was standing over me looking concerned.

"Bella? What happened?"

I blinked, still feeling dizzy and spacey. Anxiety chasing itself around in my chest and stomach.

"Don't-don't know…" I mumbled.

Just then my mother, who had been in the kitchen, came running.

"Bella! What the world!" She took in the scene, my prone figure and the broken vase.

"She was fine one minute, and then she was like this." Margaret tried to explain.

"I-I keep seeing his face! I panicked I guess. I don't know."

My mother frowned.

"Bella? How long has this been going on."

"Since we moved." I mumbled. "It's never been this bad before though."

"You've been having anxiety since we moved from Chicago?" My mother reiterated.

I nodded.

"Well no wonder, getting raped would make it worse." She muttered, but she seemed to be talking to herself. Then she spoke up. "I'm taking you to the doctor."

I looked up at her horrified.

"Please mom!" No more doctors! I've been poked and prodded enough to last me a lifetime!"

My mother chuckled under her breath.

"Relax Bella, I'm just taking you to see Dr. Whitaker, maybe she can give us some advice about your anxiety. Maybe she knows something that can help."

11: Chapter 11

I never liked doctor's offices, who does? I had seen too many in the past few weeks. While I was out of school and didn't have to deal with an abusive teacher every day, there were still many things I had to process and deal with, but sometimes I wished they would just go away.

On a Thursday afternoon I found myself sitting in Dr. Whitaker's office. It was like any other doctor's office with the small waiting room filled with patients, but today it made me feel slightly claustrophobic. I wondered how long I would have to wait, I wanted to get out of there as fast as possible.

I fidgeted the entire time I sat in the chair, but after a while my mother gave up trying to make me sit still; I was almost sixteen, not three.

Finally, the cool voice of the nurse came from the other end of the room.

"Isabella?"

Without speaking, my mother and I got up and followed the nurse in the direction of the exam room.

As soon as the door was shut behind us, the nurse sat down and began typing away at a computer.

"So Isabella what seems to be the problem?"

"She's been having anxiety," my mother cut in, "and it seems to have gotten worse since the assault."

I wanted to say something, but my voice refused to work so I let my mother keep talking.

The nurse's eyebrows rose a fraction, but her voice was neutral.

"Assault?"

"Yes," my mother answered, "Bella was assaulted by a teacher at school."

The nurse made a note.

"Have you notified the police?"

"Yes." My mother answered, "they were still conducting interviews when I talked to the detective last week.

The nurse didn't ask any more questions.

"Alright, I'll let Dr. Whitaker know you're here." Smiling, the nurse, whose name tag said her name was "Janice" left the room.

 

After what seemed like an eternity, Dr. Whitaker entered the room. She was a little younger than my mom with short blond hair and a figure that made me think she was much younger than she appeared to be. Today, however, she wasn't wearing her doctor's coat but rather scrubs and a simple name tag like the nurses.

"Good afternoon Bella, how are you today?"

"Okay…" I mumbled, shifting on the exam table.

"It says here you been having some trouble with anxiety."

I nodded.

I glanced at my mom.

"Is it okay if my mom isn't here?"

"But Bella-" my mother protested.

"If that makes you more comfortable, she can step out."

Grudgingly, my mother left the room, she didn't seem to want to let me out of her sight, but I found her overprotectiveness stifling; though I appreciated her efforts.

Dr. Whitaker sat down on a stool across from me and looked at me with a gaze that didn't seem the least bit fake. She genuinely seemed concerned, but she was a doctor, why shouldn't she be?

"Can you tell me how long you've been having anxiety?" Dr. Whitaker asked softly.

I shrugged.

"Since the move, I guess."

"When did you move?" Dr. Whitaker asked.

"Last year, " I answered, "before my sister and I started school."

"I couldn't have been easy, a new city and a new school. So before all this stuff with your new school, huh?"

I nodded again.

"Bella, I'm not a counselor so I can't address your other issues, but for your anxiety I can give you some medicine. That should help."

"What kind of medicine?" I asked, "I'm not crazy, or anything."

"Of course not." Dr. Whitaker replied. "It should help with your anxiety, at least take the edge off. I can also prescribe some Xanax, that will help with immediate anxiety. As for your other things going on, I recommend you visit the women's crisis center downtown, they'll be able to put you in touch with a counselor to deal with your other things you have going on."

"Okay." I whispered, still unsure about how I felt about the entire thing.

Before she left the room, Dr. Whitaker put a hand on my shoulder.

"We'll get through all of this, okay? We'll figure it out." When she said this for the first time I actually believed her.

 

The hardest thing about the new medicine were the side effects, but at least I could get used everything before I had to go back to school. Mom did say I have to go back.

"Will get you set up with a counselor before that, okay." My mother said, "You'll get through this, I promise."

 

We went to the Women's Crisis Center later that week. It was much different than the doctor's office. It was a large building with interior wood paneling. At first glance it looked very intimidating, but upon entering the waiting area it seemed much more inviting.

"May I help you?" The receptionist at the front desk asked. She had a round face and straight brown hair that finished in a bob at her jaw line.

"Yes I'm wondering about your counseling services for rape victims? My mother asked. "… For my daughter." She added.

"Of course, we have several counselors available. Would you like to schedule an appointment?"

"Yes please." My mother answered.

"We have Shannon available for Wednesday afternoon at 3 PM."

"That will work perfectly." My mother answered, "Thank you."

Then my mother ushered me out of the building, at least I didn't have to go back until next week, after school. Maybe my mom thought starting counseling and returning to school all in the same week was too much. I was thankful for that.

 

When I returned home I had texts waiting for me, one from Claire and one from Jeremy.

Are you ever coming back? Claire asked.

Finally I felt like I had an answer for her and the thought of talking to my friends didn't seem to overwhelming. The medicine seem to help me think clearer.

Yeah, next week.

Jeremy's message was just a short.

Where are you Bells? Miss you.

That made me smile a little bit. After a while I typed back.

I'll be back (mom is making sure of that!) Miss you too<3

For the first time in weeks I found that to be true. I may not have relished the idea of going back to school but at least I knew I had Jeremy and Claire waiting for me when I did.

12: Chapter 12

"I don't see why mom's picking now to send you back to school," Margaret murmured as we stood at the bus stop the following week, "I mean, break starts in a month."

I glanced around at the desolate street. It was colder now and the leaves had just started to turn colors that said fall had definitely arrived.

"Break is break and school is school." I mumbled, "Whatever, it's still a month away."

"Whatever." Margaret echoed, but she didn't say anymore. By then, Claire and the rest of the neighborhood kids had joined us. No doubt they had heard why I had been pulled temporarily from school, but at the moment they were all giving me strange looks and not saying anything. Even Claire had decided it was best to keep her mouth shut.

Just then, the bus pulled up and there was Steve, ready to open the door.

"Hey Bella!" He said, "Nice to have you back."

"Yeah… Thanks." I muttered as I headed for my usual seat next to Claire. Jeremy would be picked up on the next street.

As soon as Jeremy had slid into the spot next to Claire, she finally spoke, her voice coming out in a hushed whisper.

"So, how you doing Bella?"

"Okay." I mumbled, "I guess."

Jeremy and Claire exchanged a look that said they knew this was a bald-faced lie, but neither of them contradicted me. Clearly they were both aware of the other ears listening in.

 

When I got to school it was then I saw how much had gone on in my absence. By then, the fact that Mr. Keene was under investigation was no big secret.

"So," I asked as we hurried along to our lockers, "what happened after I left?"

Claire looked around, but clearly it was too noisy to be overheard.

"It's been kind of crazy to be honest." Claire replied. "Right after everything happened the cops were brought in everyone was questioned to see if they knew anything and if there were any more victims, I guess. I guess most of the teachers either generally didn't know anything or they're keeping their mouths shut."

"So is Keene still here?"

"You bet." Jeremy replied darkly. "He's under surveillance though, I don't know how much but people are keeping an eye on him. He still allowed to teach… For now."

I got through most of the morning okay although I never quite got used to the whispers that followed me around like a bad smell. Now more than ever Jeremy and Claire were like my bodyguards, looking like they would deck anyone who tried to mess with me. That, at least, made me feel a little bit better.

English class wasn't as bad as I feared. Instead of singling me out, Mr. Keene seemed to by ignoring me altogether. If he did look at me or talk to me it was in a stiff overly professional way, which I somehow preferred to how he had been. For now, I would take what I could get.

 

Over lunch, I was happy to escape where I could actually talk to Jeremy and Claire without feeling like I was under a microscope.

"My mom's driving me crazy!" I finally said, voicing the words I had been bottled up inside me for weeks, "she's all the sudden clingy and overprotective."

"Well can you blame her?" Claire asked, "after everything that's happened?"

"Well you didn't have to deal with her for almost a month!" I huffed. "I know she means well, but after a while it was like I couldn't breathe!"

It was like something inside me had been uncorked, and over the next forty-five minutes everything came spilling out my trip to the doctor's, the rape kit and my new medication."

"Well that should help shouldn't it?" Claire asked.

"Yeah, it's supposed to." I murmured, "right now I just feel lousy, more lousy than I was before I started taking it."

"I'm sure will go away." Jeremy said quietly, "I mean, all medicine side effects."

"To top it all, the cherry on top of my humiliation, my mother and doctor want me to go see a counselor at this Women's Crisis Center. My first appointment is on Wednesday."

"Maybe it's for the best." Claire ventured.

"Yeah," I mumbled, "but I'm tired of reliving everything for everybody. I might as well write a book! "

"Bella," Jeremy ventured his voice gentle again, "I'm sure the counselor knows what they're doing. Their job isn't to make you relive it, but to help you get through it the best they can."

"Mmmhmm." I grumbled, feverishly stirring my mashed potatoes and stacking my tater tots into a pyramid, which promptly fell over.

"Whatever happens you always have us." Claire said with a small smile. "I know we can't begin to imagine what you went through, but we're here if you need us."

I tried a smile and found it was actually stayed on my face.

"Thanks." I said.

That was the funny thing, I thought later, that was all I really needed; for someone to be there; someone who would be there without feeling that they had to do anything. Claire and Jeremy weren't trying to fix me they just wanted to be supportive whatever happened.

13: Chapter 13

By the following Wednesday, I had been back in school for almost a week and it was time for my first counseling session at the Women's Crisis Center. After school, I said goodbye to Claire and Jeremy and waited for my mom to pick me up, then we drove downtown to the direction of the center.

The center was less intimidating than it had been when I had seen it last, and the receptionist actually smiled.

"Good afternoon," she greeted when she saw me and my mom, "please sign in and have a seat, Shannon will be with you shortly."

The waiting area looked like a doctor's office with people and professionals going back and forth. Unlike doctors, however, most of the people that work there were dressed in regular dress clothes and their only form of identification were small badges they wore around their necks or clipped to their shirts.

After what seemed like an eternity, a woman came a door next to the main desk. She looked to be thirty or forty with short curly, sandy hair and a roundish face; still, she looked friendly.

"Isabella Carney?"

We rose and walked over. The woman extended her hand.

 

"My name is Shannon. Please follow me."

Shannon lead us past several rooms, most of them with their doors shut. At the end of the small hallway was a small office door ajar. The name on the door said "Shannon Brightly, Counseling Services".

The room was small, but cozy. There were several chairs on one side and a desk and computer on the other.

"Please have a seat. Now before we begin I have a few ground rules. No cell phones, at least not while we're in session, also everything you say here is confidential, you don't even have to tell your mother you don't want to."

I wanted to point out my mother already knew everything, but decided not to. Instead, I only nodded.

"Bella, your mother doesn't have to stay for your sessions if you don't want her to, she can wait out in the waiting room if you want."

I nodded again.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

"Well, Mrs. Carney, it was a pleasure to meet you. Now if you would leave us, for a while I'll come and get you when Bella's session is over."

"I'm sure I can find the way to the waiting room myself." I offered.

Shannon nodded and smiled. "That will be fine."

To my surprise, my mother didn't argue, she just picked up her purse and left the room.

Once the door shut behind her, Shannon spoke again.

"What do you expect from our sessions Bella?" Shannon asked softly.

I shrugged, then realizing she probably needed a real answer muttered:

"We're going to talk about my stuff."

"Not today, perhaps." Shannon replied, "but eventually. We will have some very heavy conversations in here, but I like to build up to them, and of course you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. I would never force you to tell me anything."

Well that was good to know.

Shannon continued.

"Today I think we'll just talk, about anything you want. I would like to get to know you a little bit since we are going to be spending a lot of time together. I know your information, but tell me a little bit about you: where do you go to school, or tell me about your friends."

Well that seemed safe enough.

I told Shannon about the move, and about meeting Claire and Jeremy.

"They seem like good friends," Shannon murmured. She raised an eyebrow, "maybe Jeremy is more than just a friend?"

I felt my cheeks warm.

"Maybe, yeah." I mumbled, "I don't know. We kind of dated a bit when we were fourteen, but since then…" I shrugged."

"They've been helpful to you?" Shannon asked.

I nodded again.

"Tell me about your classes, what's your best subject?" She asked next.

So I told her, I told her about how much I loved writing (without mentioning Mr. Keene of course). I told her how much I enjoyed history and that I was surprisingly good at algebra. I was surprised by how fast the forty-five minutes went by and soon Shannon was looking at the clock.

"Well it looks like our time is up for today." Shannon said pleasantly, "Have a wonderful week Bella and I'll see you next Wednesday."

I nodded again and made my way out of the office and back towards the waiting room where I knew my mom was waiting for me.

 

It was funny how much time had passed since my freshman year. I was sixteen now and I would be driving soon. That was hard to believe! In two more years I would graduate, and after that I would have to think about college, I didn't even know what I wanted to do.

Things went on as normal (well as normal as they could) until it is day in late October. Time between school was getting harder and harder, I didn't participate in any afterschool activity and I have waited my classmates as much as possible. I was tired of the stairs I got since coming back and the girls and I whispered behind my back. Even Claire and Jeremy couldn't prevent that.

That morning, a Tuesday, I was unusually early. While Claire and Jeremy headed inside I sat outside. Today I needed to clear my head, today was an unusually bad day for my anxiety when the medicine barely took the edge off. Maybe the fresh air would help. Soon it would be too cold to sit outside at all, it was hard to believe it would be snowing soon.

I was still sitting there when I heard a horn honk.

I looked up and saw Steve waving and a few minutes later he had stopped the bus and was getting out to walk across the parking lot.

"Hey Bella, what you doing out here? Aren't you getting cold?"

I shook my head, though my body shivered in betrayal.

Steve chuckled.

"Come here, maybe I can warm you up." He reached out and extended his arms to me, which I gratefully walked into. He was one of the few men other than my father I was comfortable around.

"Rough day, huh?"

I nodded against his chest.

"Well I have some news that might just make it a little bit better." Steve said with a smile. "Carl and I are in the process of adoption. We are adopting a little girl from Ethiopia. Here," he pulled something from inside his jacket, "he handed me a picture of a little girl looked to be several months old, she had a round face, dark skin and the largest eyes I had ever seen.

For the first time all morning I grinned at him.

"She's beautiful, congratulations!"

"Thanks." He took the photo from me and placed it back inside his jacket. Then he glanced at his watch as he released me.

"Well I better get going, or my dispatcher's going to be on me about not getting the bus back. I'll see you later, okay."

Just then the vice principal swooped down on me.

"Ms. Carney! What are you doing out here?"

"Just--just getting some fresh air!" I stuttered.

"Well…" Her mouth thinned, "I suggest you get back into the school and back into the commons before the bell rings. I certainly don't want you to be late for class." Then she strutted away, her high heels clicking. Frankly the woman terrified me. Sighing, I picked up my bag and headed for the front doors. I knew Jeremy and Claire would be waiting for me since we always walked to our lockers together.

I found myself smiling as I looked back at the vacant parking lot. Who knew my day could be turned around by a friendly face and a pair of big brown eyes.

14: Chapter 14

As it turned out, Steve, Claire and Jeremy were my rays of sunshine in the gloom that had obscured my life over the past several months, between the looming investigation which was quickly gathering speed and my counseling sessions, I felt compressed, which did little to help my anxiety.

My counseling sessions, were making slow progress. Shannon said this was good, but I didn't believe her, how did she have more information than she had three months ago? Slowly, I was telling her what was going on though I didn't give her the exact details.

"How did that make you feel?" She asked one afternoon.

It didn't take long to come up with a response.

"Lousy." I answered immediately, "it really scared me, but what was I supposed to do?"

"Did you think to tell anyone?" Shannon asked gently.

"No. I didn't think it would happen again." I answered honestly.

"Did this damage your trust with all authority figures?" She asked.

I shrugged.

"I don't know. I mean, I'm not scared of everybody, just a few."

This was when I mentioned the vice principal.

"She's just… intimidating." I said finally.

"That makes you anxious?" Shannon probed.

I nodded.

"We've decided that's okay, right?"

I nodded again.

"It is not okay that this teacher Mr. Keene makes you feel unsafe, that's not okay and that's okay. I'm not going to ask you to tell me every detail,, but I want you to draw or write down what about Mr. Keene makes you uncomfortable."

I did as instructed and scribbled down a list; all the words I could think of that made me uncomfortable and anxious around Mr. Keene. When I was finished I handed them to Shannon.

She glanced through them before looking at me.

"We'll tackle these one at a time. Now can you tell me about the first time Mr. Keene make you uncomfortable?"

I started slowly.

"Well, it all started with the way he looked at me. It was just… Creepy."

 

Jeremy was a help to me during that entire time. When anyone else would have walked away he stayed by my side; everything going on didn't freak him out at all. It helped that he and Claire had been in the middle of everything during my absence. It was during this time we started dating again, maybe it wasn't the smartest thing given my state of mind, but I didn't care, he made me feel better. By the beginning of the second semester of my sophomore year we were definitely a couple, though I wasn't too sure about how Claire felt about being a third wheel.

We did everything couples normally do including make out in the janitor's closet on the third floor. The janitor's closet was about what you'd expect; it was filled with all sorts of cleaning supplies, a broom and a mop and it was between the broom, mop and bucket Jeremy and I stood press together on a morning in late February.

At the moment, Jeremy had me pressed against a shelf, which was currently digging into my shoulder blades, and I was a step away from tripping over a bucket, but I didn't care. We weren't talking much. Jeremy's jacket was off and tossed somewhere on the shelf behind him, my sweater was well past my naval and Jeremy's shirt was pushed up at some weird angle, exposing a lot of skin.

Jeremy moaned.

"Oh, that's good Bells… Real… good."

I pressed closer to him, while his hands slid down and grabbed my butt; hoisting me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. I could feel him then, he definitely had a hard on.

I rocked my hips against him and he groaned again.

"You're killing me Bells…"

I smirked against his lips. Had we been in my bedroom or his I would have gone further. While we had made out lot we hadn't gone all the way-yet.

Jeremy's hand was halfway up my shirt when there were several hard raps on the door and it opened, a few seconds later there was Mr. Collins, the janitor.

After that several things happened in quick succession: Jeremy hit his head on the shelf above him, dropped me and I tripped over the bucket I had been avoiding for the past twenty minutes. Not a pretty picture. Then Jeremy and I were both hauled off to the principal office… Yep, busted!

 

I'll spare you the details of what happened next. Long story short Jeremy and I both had detention for the next week. That certainly wasn't going to be a picnic, I had never had detention in my life. While Jeremy wasn't a stellar student he was decent and he had detention about as often as I did. Needless to say, neither of us were eager to add this experience to our school resume.

"Why do we have to be the first students to get caught in there?" Jeremy complained as we made our way to the detention hall after school.

"Bad luck?" I suggested with a small smile.

"Apparently." Jeremy muttered. "My parents are going to kill me!"

"Yeah, mine too." I murmured sympathetically, "My dad's going to go ballistic!"

 

At least I had been right about my parents reaction to the news that my detention. They reacted about how I expected.

"Bella, what's the matter?" My mother exclaimed? "This really isn't like you."

My dad had a similar reaction, although it was much more explosive.

"What happened Bella! You are usually such a good student, how do you land in detention? Sneaking around during school hours to make out with a boy? Really?"

I didn't really have an answer for him because I didn't really understand it myself. Nor did I mention that this was Jeremy, the same boy I had been hanging out with for two years; it's not like I was hooking up with the school bad boy.

As a result I was grounded for the next two weeks, no phone, no Internet (except for homework) and no visits from Jeremy. Presumably he was grounded too. I didn't bother mentioning any of this to Shannon though my sessions were confidential. She didn't need to hear about my teenage screw ups even if it was just getting in trouble for making out with my boyfriend.

15: Chapter 15

As Shannon predicted, I was making slow progress in my counseling sessions. Gradually, I told her about school and the part Mr. Keene (for better or worse) played.

Shannon listened without comment, except to reassure me that what he did, no matter how small, wasn't okay.

I told her about our first conversation and how he was doing things he thought would please me.

"He was trying to get you to like him," Shannon murmured, "to give him some recognition."

I crossed my arms defiantly. "Like I would!"

Shannon gave a small humorless smile.

"I never said you had to."

 

In those months after the holidays she got me to talk gradually about the things leading up to the assault, "baby steps" she called them.

"What happened that day Bella? Do you remember?"

I thought the question was odd; like I would forget.

"It was a Monday," I began, "everyone was coming back from a long weekend, Claire said she would bring me some muffins from her family get together."

"That's nice…" Shannon murmured, She was smiling now.

"I had them in my backpack, the muffins. She gave them to me between classes so I didn't have time to put them in my locker. It was in the middle of English class when they fell out; they made a mess all over the floor. Mr. Keene got mad."

"What did he do or say?" Shannon asked.

I frowned before I began speaking again, very slowly.

"He yelled a lot and the class just kind of stopped… Everyone was looking at me."

"How did you feel?"

"Embarrassed and scared."

"What did Mr. Keene do?"

"He took away the muffins and put them in his desk, then he went out into the hallway." I paused and swallowed before continuing. "Then he came back into the room and dragged me out into the hallway."

"No one saw this, correct?"

I shook my head, then amended. "Except the class." Then I picked up where I had left off. "He pushed me into the study carols… then… He took off his belt, I thought he was going to hit me… then he raped me." My voice had gotten steadily quieter as I continued talking. I wasn't even looking at Shannon anymore, but rather talking to my knees, but Shannon didn't seem to mind.

"Very good Bella, this is progress. I'm not going to ask you to tell me anything more today, but we'll go through those feelings and figure them out together. I'm also not asking you to forgive him now, given he is still in your life that may take some time, years even." She smiled again. "I think that's all for today, I'll see you next week."

 

While I was making slow but steady progress in counseling, things seemed to have reached a fever pitch at school. Everyone was still talking about Mr. Keene, but this only continued following the second assault.

I never got the girl's name, but there were rumors, apparently someone had seen something and she had been found crying in the bathroom but that was all anyone knew. Whatever Mr. Keene had done he was hiding it well. Several days later however, Mr. Keene was outright accused, but he of course denied it, spinning it so he was the victim and not the other way around. As worried as I was, the underlying emotion I felt was disgust.

At least Jeremy and Claire had the courtesy not to talk about what was going on in front of me, but it was hard to avoid it altogether since it was all over school. It even made the 5 o'clock news, and that made my skin crawl even more.

 

Eventually, amid the constant tension, both at home and at school I couldn't take it anymore so one night I simply left without telling anyone where I was going. I headed, of course to the one place where I felt safe, Jeremy's house.

He greeted me with open arms and hugged me tight.

"What are you doing here Bella?" He murmured into my hair.

"Everything with Mr. Keene is making me feel so overwhelmed!" I mumbled, as I buried my head in his chest, "I feel like I'm slowly being suffocated."

"It's alright Bells, I'm here." Jeremy whispered as his hold on me tightened. "You're safe, I promise."

 We spent most of the evening watching movies in his room and I was grateful that his parents were still at work, not that they would have minded that I can over since I was a frequent houseguest. Somewhere between the third Star Wars movie and Avatar we started making out and as things often do, it progressed to more. I wasn't sure I was quite ready for sex yet part of me still felt Mr. Keene pressed up against me every time I got intimate with Jeremy, still that was something I wanted to experience with him.

Our clothes came off slowly and Jeremy took his time. Every kiss and every touch was reassuring in a way I couldn't quite explain, like he was wrapped around me in the most intimate way possible. We were truly part of each other. It was late by the time we both fell asleep, I didn't even hear Jeremy's parents come home.

16: Chapter 16

This is pretty much the climax of this story, a couple more chapters will finish it just wrapping everything up and showing where Bella ends up by the end of it.

 

Dear diary,

Hey, it's me again and I have some special news to share, a milestone if you will. I, Bella Carney lost my virginity. I know Jeremy and I had been talking about it for a while, but we were taking our time with it, neither of us wanted to rush it. I guess that's something not very many people our age think about.

I don't think I'll give you all the dirty details but I can honestly say I enjoyed it. Yeah, it hurt at first but after that it was really awesome. Jeremy was so gentle and really sweet and didn't rush me at all, and afterwards we cuddled in his bed until we both fell asleep. If I could have picked anyone I wanted to lose my virginity to it would be Jeremy because I've cared about him for so long and he really is my best friend boyfriend or not.

I don't know if his parents knew or not, if they did they didn't say anything. This time when I came home my parents weren't that upset, though they were disappointed I had run away. I still feel weird though, all this stuff about Mr. Keene and the investigation is still freaking me out. Though, I'm really happy I have Jeremy; he's been great through it all and what happened this past weekend was just the icing on the cake:)

I hope my mom doesn't find this, or worse yet, Margaret, this is awkward enough.

That's all for now,

Bella

 

I finished my most recent diary entry with a flourish. This was one I didn't really want to share, even with Claire, even as close as we were I doubted she would understand where I was coming from and how amazing my first time with Jeremy had been.

 

Nothing seemed to be able to dampen my mood going into the following week. However, by Wednesday something happened that would completely drive my time with Jeremy from my mind.

As usual, I was waiting for my mom to pick me up for my counseling appointment. Despite the cool weather it hadn't produced snow since before Christmas and there was little new snow on the ground, but I preferred that to picking charcoal colored snow out of my boots.

The area around the school was pretty much deserted and even the buses had disappeared so I was surprised to see a lone figure walking by the school. With the winter coat and hat it was hard to tell who it was so I didn't think much of it, checking my phone once again I figured mom would be arriving soon.

Suddenly, out of nowhere a rough hand grabbed me. It happened so quickly I didn't even have time to scream. I was pressed up against a hard body and a cloth that smelled strong and sweet was pressed over my nose and mouth immediately making me feel lightheaded. I couldn't do anything, I couldn't scream or react. In a few quick seconds my world went black.

 

I woke up in a moving vehicle, but it was dimly lit and it appeared to have no windows. I also was aware that I was bound with my hands tied behind my back and something over my mouth; I couldn't scream even if I wanted to.

The van kept driving until it stopped on a short bumpy road. I knew we were well outside town because no street within the city had roads this bad; I could hear gravel under the tires. Finally the van stopped and I heard a door slam. Light flooded the dark interior as someone threw open the doors and a hood over my head, again I struggled and tried to scream, did they intend on killing me?

"Be quiet." The man muttered as he shoved me ahead of him. I stumbled along, but I was silent. I was still terrified, sure I would have a panic attack at any moment. A panic attack would've been better next to this.

Several minutes later, I heard a door open and the man shoved me inside the room before shutting the door once more. Then he shoved me onto the bed and before I could right myself he was untying my hands.

"Stay here." He grunted.

For a long time the room was eerily quiet after the man left, the silence pressing in on my eardrums like its own entity. Finally the door opened again and another person entered, I knew this was another man from that heavy footsteps, but whether this was an accomplice or someone entirely different I had no clue.

 

I tried to make sense of what I could. I heard the man taking off his shoes,  his jacket and other winter apparel. Then I felt the bed shift as he climbed onto it. Finally he removed the hood which covered my head. I would have seen my assailant if I didn't have to shut my eyes against the changing light.

"There she is," the man's voice murmured, a voice I recognized, "my girl. My beautiful Bella."

The man was Mr. Keene.

 

For a long time I didn't open my eyes, I turned my head away from Mr. Keene as he seemed eager to explore my body. He took my clothes off with almost reverence, I just let him, what else could I do?

I knew what he had in mind, but I didn't know how to stop it, it was just me, in a hotel room with the man that had been haunting me for months.

Finally, he seemed to have gotten what he came for and eagerly reached for my jeans, which he shoved as quickly as he could down my legs. The cold air touched my skin. I shivered.

His hands were shaking as he reached for my underwear, his hands were cold, but they seemed even colder against the sensitive parts of my body. I shivered again, I could feel my knees knocking together and not just because of the cold.

"You've no idea how long I wanted this…" Mr. Keene whispered, "I'm so sorry how I treated you before, that's not how I want to treat my favorite girl."

It seemed his voice, while rough with longing was trying to be gentle at the same time. My mind spun helplessly I could feel the beginnings are a panic attack coming on, like every inch of oxygen was being squeezed from my lungs.

Mr. Keene reached for something nearby and I heard something rip, which I assumed was a condom. I heard his pants unzip and the rustling of clothing.

I licked my lips, willing myself to breathe.

I felt his hands on my thighs, prying my legs apart, his breath is coming fast and short, like mine, but for a different reason; I was barely breathing at all.

Then he plunged into me, I didn't even scream I didn't have the air to, my only hope was someone had noticed I was gone and would venture to find me. I simply closed my mind and my eyes and ceased to be.

 

I lost how many times he raped me, or even what day it was. My only reprieve was when he went to the bathroom. I had no motivation to run the depression had settled over me and my body was too sore to even move. I thought fleetingly of Jeremy, he was my only light in all of this. Surely my mother would've called the police by now.

By now, my stomach cried out for nourishment. Mr. Keene seem to have realized this because I could hear the rustling of bags and smelled takeout. I still hadn't opened my eyes, which seemed as unable to open as the rest of my body was to move. Finally he gave me something and I felt a straw being shoved between my lips. I drank without question. Then I felt something wet and sweet against my lips, a strawberry I realized, tentatively I took a bite. It was better than nothing.

 

After we had eaten, he raped me again and two more times before he finally slept. When the lights were out and it had grown dark outside I finally opened my eyes.

As I had expected, it was dark, and Mr. Keene, in rumpled clothes still half dressed, was asleep on a second bed in the room; I must be in some motel. On a small table in the room were the remains of what must've been dinner, takeout, and the last of the strawberries.

I had to move and had little time before Mr. Keene would wake again. Finally I uncurled from my fetal position and made my way to the bathroom. Despite my aching body I relieved myself then finally pulling up my underwear, I made my way over to the leftovers of dinner on the small table, quickly polishing off the rest of the strawberries; I was so hungry I barely tasted them.

Then I crawled back into the bed finally crawling under the sheets and after some time I fell into an unsettled sleep. My body seemed to be at war with itself, fighting, hunger, fatigue and fear.

It was better than nothing, I kept repeating myself; at least I was alive.

 

The hours seem to roll into one another. Mr. Keene didn't seem to trust me enough to invite me to sit with him so he fed me tied to the bed and raped me when he felt like it. I was past the point of protesting.

That afternoon, there was a banging on the door so loud I jumped.

"Thomas Keene? Open up!" A loud male voice shouted, "Police!"

A strange feeling of relief washed over me and I finally opened my eyes. I turned my head to see Mr. Keene dressed in a rumpled dress shirt and boxers going to open the door. He looked pale and disheveled, had the circumstances been different I might have felt sorry for him.

So they got me out of there, a female officer having wrapped me in a warm blanket. Another throwing a coat around my shoulders.

"Sweetheart, we're taking you to the hospital." The female cop said. "This man isn't going to hurt you anymore."

"My mom." I rasped.

"She's going to meet us at the hospital."

"My medicine?" I questioned.

"What medicine do you take, honey?"

"Paxil, for anxiety." I answered.

"I'm sure they can give you something when you get to the hospital. Hang in there." Then she shoved me in the front seat of the police car, still wrapped in the blanket.

It was only then I saw Mr. Keene being led away his hands cuffed behind his back looking tired and worn. I didn't pay attention much as he was put into the back of another police car and after he disappeared behind me I didn't care what happened to him anymore. When the whir of the sirens had faded somewhat I leaned against the window and closed my eyes, feeling at ease for the first time in a day and a half. Finally I slept.

17: Chapter 17

When I opened my eyes again I was in the hospital. Apparently I had been out for quite a while but whether that was because of medication or because of my own fatigue it was hard to say. The room was dimly lit except for the light coming from the hallway and looking around I saw two people resting in chairs nearby.

"Mom?" I croaked, "Jeremy?"

Their heads came up nearly simultaneously, Jeremy's tousled brown hair looking even messier than usual.

"Isabella, honey," my mother spoke softly, " you're awake." She came over smoothing my hair. "Your dad will be here as soon as he gets off work, but he knows what happened."

I licked my lips, which were cracked and dry reaching for Jeremy. He came over and squeezed my hand.

"Jer…?" I whispered. "What happened?"

Jeremy and my mother exchanged a look, as if they had counted on me asking this very question debating whether they wanted to answer it or not.

"Sweetheart, you've been through a lot." My mother said carefully, "we can talk about it later, I promise." She smoothed my hair again.

I was still vaguely tired so I closed my eyes again. I guess my questions would just have to wait.

 

The next time I awoke, my dad was in the room and Jeremy was still there, though I could tell he had gone home, changed, and showered, but he hadn't left my side since around the time I had been brought in. In a chair on the other side of my bed was Claire.

"Hey…" I gave her a weak smile.

"Hey yourself." Claire answered.

"I think I could use some water." I said finally, "I probably look like hell and my mouth tastes like a truck stop."

On my other side, Jeremy chuckled.

"Yeah, Bells you do." He agreed. When I looked up again he was holding out a cup of water with a straw for me ready to hold it to my lips. I sipped gratefully. When I had swallowed I looked up at him and smiled, the first real smile I felt had been on my lips for the past few days.

"Thanks."

"Anytime." Jeremy replied before he set the glass of water on the bedside table.

"You going to say hello to your old man?" My dad asked.

I cracked another smile.

"Sure dad." I replied.

"At least the cops got that creep!" He finished grimly. "After today, we can all rest easy."

"Yeah, I know dad." I said quietly.

 

Apparently everything as far as Mr. Keene was concerned was far from over. The cops had been waiting to question me and wanted my statement in regards to my assault and kidnapping, but the officer taking the case was nice and didn't press me too hard.

"Bella, we just want to know what happened, that's all. Then we'll take it from there, okay?"

With my parents and Jeremy I went down to the station. I told them as much as I could remember and even the detail about being tied up and Mr. Keene bringing me food. They would still be many more hurdles to cross before this was all over.

 Along with Mr. Keene, a second man, Darren Cruz, was arrested. This had apparently been the man who had abducted me on Mr. Keene's orders because he felt it was too risky to abduct me from school grounds himself. The man turned out to be a friend of Mr. Keene's and had been paid $100 for his part in the crime.

Jeremy, Claire and I, along with several other students, were called to testify, but that would be several months from now, until then, we had been given a reprieve from the drama.

Mr. Keene, of course had been fired from his teaching position, and for the rest of second semester we had a substitute, Mrs. Carlisle who was a world of difference, but given the circumstances that's what everyone expected. I didn't return to school for several weeks after the assault mostly for physical and mental reasons. I was still seeing Shannon at the women's crisis center, actually grateful to still be in counseling and would continue to be so at least until the following year.

As I expected, Mr. Keene's trial was the subject of school gossip.

"If he's done this type of thing before with other students," some girl in my grade asked, "why haven't they caught him until now?"

It was Claire who provided an answer in her typical matter-of-fact fashion.

"Because there were people who stood up to him and wouldn't let him get away with it. All it takes is one person to speak up."

Despite whatever I was feeling at the moment I knew she was right.

18: Chapter 18

It was hard to believe it had been 4 years since my family had moved from Chicago. Now my friends and I were getting ready to graduate as seniors, looking forward to one last free summer and our first year of college.

By that spring Mr. Keene's trial was just getting underway, and it was probably the most stressful time of my life. Between finals and straightening out details for graduation and impending college enrollment my friends and I were at court giving our testimonies as to what happened almost 2 years previous. I was glad when it was all over, but Jeremy was there to support me; by then we were still together for which I was grateful. I was under no illusion people that actually stayed together all through high school was rare, but I was glad he had stuck by my side.

"Well I'm glad that's over." Claire muttered one afternoon at the end of May. "At least we can worry about normal stuff now and that creep is behind bars; at least for the next five years."

I nodded in fervent agreement as we prepared for our graduation rehearsal.

"You know," Jeremy murmured, as he squeezed my shoulders, "he may get out someday."

"Yeah, someday," I murmured, "but not right now. Shannon is teaching me to live in the moment."

Jeremy chuckled.

"That's my girl."

 

The afternoon of our graduation was warm and breezy. I was grateful they were doing it out on the football field instead of indoors or it would have been unbearable! There was no way I was sitting through a two hour commencement in the old stuffy gym.

I couldn't decide whether being at the beginning of the alphabet was better or worse, either way I still had to sit through the entire thing; Jeremy in the middle and Claire at the end. At least none of us had a name that ended with a X, Y or a Z.

Finally, after the valedictorian speeches and the presentation of what felt like a thousand diplomas it was over and my classmates and I turned our tassels and threw our hats, which were lifted in the spring breeze.

Afterwards, Jeremy, Claire and I met up with our families our eyes on lunch which was long overdue. We had discarded our robes, though we kept our caps. Jeremy, however, spent several minutes chasing his cap around the stands which had been lifted by an unsuspecting breeze. Finally he rejoined our group it clamped firmly over his head with one hand.

"I'll be glad to discard this," he muttered, when he reappeared, "it's been more trouble than it's worth. The weather's great, but this is ridiculous!"

Just then, Claire voice the one thing I had been thinking most of the morning.

"When's lunch? I'm starved!"

 

It was by far the most relaxing summer I had in a while. Barely a month into vacation I got an invitation to a very special event. Steve and Carl had invited me, Jeremy, and Claire to their daughter's first birthday.

They had brought home their daughter Elsa, from Ethiopia a little over a year ago and she had been a few months old. Since then, she joined a picture of Carl pinned to Steve's sun visor on the bus and he proudly showed off pictures of her to anyone in the vicinity, because let's face it, she was adorable.

Steve and Carl's house was in the type of neighborhood he often picked up kids in at the end of a cul-de-sac half an hour from where Claire, Jeremy and I lived. The driveway was, as I expected, packed, so we parked at the next available curb picking up our presents as Jeremy unlocked the passenger door.

They greeted us with warm smiles and led everyone into the living room where a little dark girl with jet black hair was surrounded by presents.

I smiled at the sight and went to congratulate Carl and Steve. Carl, was in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on what seemed to be an enormous birthday cake, which certainly seemed much too big for such a little girl. Clearly they were going all out.

"Isn't this a bit much?" I asked.

Carl grinned.

"Well we do like to spoil her. Anything for little our princess."

Princess seemed to describe Elsa to a tee, since according to Steve, she had been named after Elsa in Frozen which was Carl's all-time favorite Disney movie.

Finally, when presents had been opened and everything exclaimed over, it was time for cake. Then Carl brought out the enormous cake, a three-tier marzipan confection which read "Happy First Birthday Elsa" in teal icing. Everyone sang happy birthday, but we made it short considering a 1-year-old's attention is next to nothing, then we all dug in Elsa getting more on her face and hair then everyone else. I watch the entire scene grinning, there was Steve wiping her up and Carl snapping away pictures from every possible angle. They were definitely enjoying being parents.

 

An hour later the guests began to leave as it was time for Elsa's nap.

"Thank you for coming." Steve told me. "I think we probably enjoyed it more than Elsa did, but she definitely liked her presents. She hasn't let go of that stuffed chick you gave her since she pulled it out of the bag. Fortunately Carl got the frosting off it." He chuckled.

I nodded.

"I'm glad." I replied.

 

Things slowed down after that, and the ride back to our neighborhood was a quiet one. I dropped Claire off before going back to Jeremy's house, as we wanted to spend a few more minutes alone before we parted ways.

"You doing okay Bells?" Jeremy asked.

"Yeah." I replied. "After today I am, promise. You not trying to psychoanalyze me are you Dr. Kipling?" I teased.

"Don't you already have a shrink?" Jeremy teased back.

I grinned.

"Enough with the shrink jokes, come on!" I complained.

"At least you're laughing now," Jeremy murmured, "I miss that. Before no one could get you to smile. I like the new you much better."

He was right, though, I reflected afterwards. I liked the new me too and if it hadn't been for people like Jeremy, Claire  and Shannon I would probably still be in that dark place without the vaguest idea of how I was going to get out. However, thanks to them the dark corners of my life had receded somewhat, while and I was still a work in progress I was better than I had been, and after everything I had been through there seemed to only be sunshine ahead.