Hunger

Austin: Shame

"Pixie, come on, wake up," I whisper, shaking her shoulder.

Pixie opens her eyes and sleepily rubs her face. It's the day after Halloween and only seven hours since we found her alone in the woods. She's exhausted and I know it, but I can't wait for daylight.

"Why?" she asks in a soft voice.

"We're gonna go." As I say this I look over my shoulder at Rory, still sleeping soundly in her bed like an angel. She still thinks I'm next to her.

"No!" Pixie says, starting to choke up and cry. "I wanna stay! I wanna stay with Rory and Blanca!"

"Shh!" I whisper, sinking down to her height and holding my finger to her lips.

"Why?" she asks again, rubbing tears off her cheeks.

Why? Because I can't look Rory in the face once the sun comes up, that's why. I've been awake all night long replaying our conversation in my head. I have never let these demons out to any other human being in my entire life. Not to therapists, not to doctors, not to foster families, not even to my own mother.

Whatever I'm feeling for Rory is starting to scare me to death. Is it love? I don't know. And I had no idea that revealing my darkest secret to her would rock me the way it has. But I know deep down she'll never look at me the same way she did yesterday morning, before all this happened. I will forever be a sad story to her. Not a boyfriend. Not a friend. Not even a normal guy. I've lost all of that.

I feel just like I felt after being in one of those motel rooms as a kid: sick, angry, confused, horrified. And ashamed. So much shame it buries me. So much shame I can't breathe right. I had no idea how deep it went.

There was this thing that Ray did, something that I later learned was common among pimps. He would tattoo his girls with their "new names" when they agreed (or were forced after being unable to pay some drug debt) into working for him.

For years I wondered why he did this. What was the point? He already owned them. But now I know exactly why: who you are can be taken away. It can be killed while your body is still alive. And it can be rebuilt into the worst thing you could ever imagine. He gave them those names to change them into who he wanted them to be, to break them and rebuild. Once someone takes your identity away, what do you have? You're nothing anymore. You're just a thing. Someone else's idea.

I bet if he still had me he would tattoo the word Shame right on my fucking forehead. That's who I am now. It has taken over everything I was.

"I'm sorry, Baby Girl," I say softly, wiping Pixie's tears. "We just have to leave. You need to trust me."

She finally nods and starts packing up her clothes, hiccuping as she tries to stifle her sobs.

"Let me tell Rory bye," she begs as we're walking down the stairs.

"No, we don't have time. We'll see her again," I say, and I don't add, "As long as I never have to look her in the eye."

As we drive away in the big white van, it hits me: I have a big problem.

I have a problem with sabotaging my own happiness. It happened with Nancy and Riley, and now it's happening with Rory. I can't let myself get close to anyone. The survival tactics that served me well as a little kid are now making my life miserable, but I don't know how to be different.

——————

Like a stalker each day, I return to the Natural Way to watch Rory from a distance. It's creepy, I know. I just have to see her but don't have the balls to do it in person. God she must hate me the way I disappeared like that.