Trigger warning: This story does contain an instance of force before evolving later in the story and series. All characters in the story are over the age of 18. Prologue is for immersion.
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The Nod
The story I'm going to tell is real. Though I'm sure at times it may become hard to read for some, my recollection of these events has had a positive impact on my life. At the time, my perspective of what happened and his differ greatly, and after many lengthy conversations with him and my therapist about them I've come to terms with it all. If you begin to read and decide this isn't for you, I understand. I'm weary about even telling the story, but this place has been an outlet for me to realize that for one, I must not be alone in my experiences and, secondly, the power of how you view a situation and internalize it can make all the difference in how you grow as a person.
Part 1
It started on a Friday after my mother had picked me up from the local dance studio, an activity I started back before I was ten years old, but my interest in it had been waning over the last two years as my closer friends left to either join different studios or different sports altogether. Carrying my large purple striped athletic bag, it felt like it weighed twice as much as when I'd carried it in after dancing for nearly two hours. My walk to the car was more like a limp as my small frame struggled with the size of the bag. After opening the back door and tossing it into the rear seat, I opened the front and greeted my mother. She didn't even look at me as she gave me a monotone hello in response, something clearly on her mind as she set her phone down vertically in the cup holder.
"I'm not sure what he has planned for dinner, but I have to get back to the office," she said as I glanced from the windshield over to her.
Still not looking at me, she continued to speak, "I think I'll be driving in to St. Louis afterwards for another conference tonight, but I'll be back tomorrow or Sunday. I think your dad is going to golf tomorrow so you should be able to do anything you want this weekend." I was used to this by now, it was becoming a regular thing that at least every other weekend she would have something work related that would keep her for a day or two. I was just about to give her a nonchalant response when the phone rang through the Bluetooth in the car, it was my dad.
"Hey, have you picked up Jenna yet?" his deep voice boomed through the car speakers.
Adjusting the volume on her steering wheel, she replied, "Yep, she's sitting here right."
"Hey dad." I greeted as I looked into the radio display as if we hiding somewhere inside it.
"I'm still at the office but I'm finishing up. I'm going to run to pick up a couple of groceries before I come home but are you good with pizza tonight?" he asked.
"Yeah that's fine I guess." I responded indifferently.
"Are you sure?" he asked, picking up on the hesitance in my voice. "If you want something else just order something on postmates. If you do pizza do pepperoni for my half. Love ya, gotta go."
After saying goodbye, the phone clicked off and the low volume of the radio resumed. I looked to my right out the window as I thought about my dinner choices, already over the news that my mother wasn't going to be around this weekend.
"Jenna, please for the love of god clean up your room this weekend. If you'd just spend a couple of hours on your laundry you'd be done and I'll be off your case," she pleaded with me, the first normal sounding this she'd said since I got in the car.
"Yeah, yeah, I was already planning on it," I said with a bit of annoyance in my voice before deciding that I'd look through the dinner options on the phone.
Realizing I'd left my phone is in my gym bag, I look down and see my mom's phone sitting in the cup holder. Without asking, I pick it up and tap the screen to prompt me for the password. Tapping in the four digit code, my mom glances over and clears her throat.
"Umm, excuse me? Where's your phone missy?" she interrupted.
"It's in my bag, I'm just going to look through postmates," I said, not taking immediate notice of a strange discomfort in her voice.
Looking over at her, I know I caught a slight concerned look in her eye before she was forced to look back at in front of her. As I opened the app, out of my peripheral vision I noticed her glance in my direction a couple of times before finally giving the road her full attention. Using my thumb to slowly scroll through the different restaurant options, I looked through the local wing restaurant. After two minutes of going back and forth, I decide to look for another option.
As I clicked on an Italian restaurant down the street from my house, a notification slid down from the top of the screen of a new text message from a contact listed as "JLB."
JLB: "Can't wait to see you try."
Don't ask me how I knew or why I thought this way, but I knew it was something bad. Normally if a message would've came in I would've swiped up on the notification to make it go away before I even read it. But this time, I didn't. Like I said, I don't know why, but instead of swiping it away, I clicked on the message. I knew out of the corner of my eye my mom was still looking forward. I read the message above it, and as my eyes went wide, I scrolled upwards. I only saw a few of them, but the last messages leading up to the most recent one went like this.
JLB: "I love it when you talk like that."
MOM: "I love it when you make me talk like that."