Chapter 148: SIENNA’S POV

Chapter 148: SIENNA’S POV
How does it make you feel listening to Chad speak about his past, Sienna?" Her shrewd eyes landed on me.

"I feel awful and have no words to describe how much I feel—I feel so much at this moment. I mean, when I met him the first time, he was so vibrant and so full of life. Hearing how he was being bullied in school and still survived the way he did…he's remarkably brave. I don't know what I would've done if it happened to me."

"What drew you together? I'm assuming you are close friends, best of friends perhaps?"

"Best of friends, we have our love for dancing in common and that's where we met. My parents died at an early age—so we connected somehow with his lack of parental support. I have insurmountable guilt from the moment I learned of his suicide. I was so caught up with my own turmoil that I didn't see how bad it was for him."

"I understand that feeling, my dear but it wasn't your fault. You must realize that." I nodded not knowing what to say.

"Tell me more about your background if you don't mind, Sienna? I want to understand the depth of your connection with Chad and why he chose you to be here for him and not anyone else. From what I gathered earlier, there are five of you in this group of friends but Chad chose you."

I cleared my throat and spoke. "My mother died giving birth to me and my dad raised me as a single parent. He died when I was seven and I had to move in to live with my father's sister in Los Angeles. She has a family of her own and they weren't too pleased to take on an orphan but they didn't have a choice but to take me in. I moved out the minute I got my high school diploma and left to study in London. My dad made wise investments with his money and made a small fortune. He even set aside a college fund, so studying abroad was an easy escape route, very much like Chad's."

"Living with your father's sister was pleasant and had a loving atmosphere?" Dr. Murray went on.

"No—she and her husband were quite abusive, physically and mentally. The only thing that kept me going was the thought of Kyle, my childhood best friend, who was there after each brutal lashing."

"Lashing…with what precisely?"

"Whichever came in handy then—a belt or a sturdy malleable stick but their favorite was a shotgun cleaner. It's a long spiral metal rod with fine bristled metal husks to clean the inside nozzle of the gun. The metal husks pierce the skin with each hit. It can be extremely painful if the beating lasts awhile. The lashings only came when they felt like I needed to be punished like let's say I didn't finish my dinner or didn't finish my homework. On the other lighter days, the punishment would be me kneeling on pebbles, grains, or beer bottle caps nailed upside down on a large, thick piece of wood—sometimes with only my underclothes or sometimes with clothing for up to eight hours at times—it really depends."

"My word and you said you were only seven years old when these started?" She looked startled and horror-struck. Even Chad gasped loudly. I spoke about it to all of them but just gave the abbreviated version and not much detail. There was no point in hiding my dark past when Chad spewed bravely about his own demons.

"Yes…though in the beginning, it started out small. It started out with spanking with their hands or locking me inside a tiny linen closet for six hours or so. But as I grew older, the punishment became more intense and traumatizing."

"Did anyone help you at all? Did you speak to a counselor at school? Or anyone for that matter?"

"No, not one adult helped. Even my teachers saw how badly I was beaten. A few occasions during school days, my legs would have a lot of dried, crusty blood in them or at times my socks would be soaked in blood. Once, they voiced some concern but they were being paid off by my Aunt and Uncle. After that, no one voiced any concern again. The only thing I had constantly in my life was Kyle. He tried to help me too but I told him not to. We were young and I was scared that no one would believe me and I would end up getting more punished once the Brown's found out that I told on them. During the years, I accepted my fate and didn't even try to question it anymore."

"You have quite a past too, Sienna. I see now why you and Chad are drawn to each other. The type of abuse you two went through is different. But at the end of the day, scars are scars."

"Oh my God, Sienna—the story you told us was a little different," Chad said.

"I mean sure—you mentioned about the beating and being an abused child but never to this extent. I can't imagine a seven year old girl scared out of her wits being locked in a tiny linen closet for six hours." He held me tight through our tears.

"This indeed showed a different light to your friendship. You see Chad, even though you are going through a different type of battle, you should always remember the type of battle your friend is going through as well. I can see that she is still trying to heal and may have a long way to go after years of being an abused child—but she is still trying and moving forward."

She shook her head and held her chest. "I spanked my kids a few times on their bottoms when they were driving me purely manic. But I profusely apologized immediately to my younglings. But right now, I imagine them being seven years old again without anyone to help them—and being treated in such a way—my heart is purely gutted. I really think you should seek someone to talk to Sienna. It might help sort some things out."

I sniffed. "Thank you. I might just do that. I have to think it through first."

"Chad—this has been a very good productive day. I will be back on Monday and we will continue then." She stood up and they quietly left the sunny living room.

I looked through the windows and studied the beautiful landscape but I couldn't see a thing.

My tears were unstoppable.

When Chad returned, Toby was with him. "What the hell happened, Chad? Did someone hurt her? Why are you both crying?" his puzzled voice amused me but it was impossible to say so through my weeping.

Toby sat next to me and cradled my head to his chest. "Hush now, love—there is no man on earth worth crying over like this." Really, a man…is that the best he could do?

"Now you're just being an idiot," Chad said.

"Sienna joined me during therapy and ended up sharing her heartbreaking child abuse story. I'm so sorry Sienna—I didn't expect for it to go that way."

"No—it needed to be out there. It's about time," I said in between hiccups.

Chad sat on the other side of Toby and we all huddled together until Chad's and my sobs subsided.

The three of us prepared dinner together. During dinner my phone rang and I absentmindedly took it without paying attention to the caller.

"Hello?"

"Is this Ms. Sienna Richards?" A firm woman spoke. "Yes, this is she—"

"Hello, Sienna! I'm Tina Goldsmith and I'm the lawyer for Edith Galley. My client used to work for Mr. Dante Brown. To get to the point, Mr. Brown physically assaulted and abused Ms. Galley two months ago. There are pictures to prove the incident did happen. We are building a case and we learned that you lived in their household until you turned eighteen. Now, Ms. Richards, I was hoping to see if you would be so inclined to help us and tell us exactly what type of a man Mr. Brown is? It would solidify the case and your testimony would mean a great deal to Ms. Galley. Mr. Brown needs help and by proving him guilty, he would exactly get that plus a great deal of punishment."

"Wow, that's a lot of information to take in. I understand, I truly do—but I can't do this right now. Is it possible for me to call you back later on next week? Right now really is not the right time for me."

"Thank you, Ms. Richards. That would be generous of you if you can truly help us. I will send you a text message with my information. Thanks again!" she said before ending the call.

"Care to enlighten us about that odd call?" Toby waited for my reply as did Chad.

"That was a lawyer for an employee who used to work for my uncle. She claims that my uncle physically assaulted and abused her. They are working up a solid case against him and have physical evidence to prove it. They need my testament to make it air tight with no chance in hell of my uncle running away with his violent tendencies."

"Amazing! Karma's a bitch and your fucking uncle is up next!" Chad said haughtily.

"Are you planning to give a statement?" Chad asked. "I know it's none of my business but I do think you should really do this—for your own sake and for those people he abused as well. I know your Aunt and Uncle are both callous sadistic people and they both deserve to rot in the cellar. But if you can put your uncle there, why not do it? He certainly doesn't deserve pity. Anyone who hurts women—let alone a small child—indubitably deserves punishment. You have to do this, Sienna. It's supremely important that you do."

"I will—I don't think I can allow him to hurt another person. If I don't do this….how many children or women is he going to inflict harm upon?" I announced with conviction. That bastard deserves it and don't I know it.

After the eventful dinner, we all voted to watch Under the Tuscan Sun with Diane Lane to end our night. The thought of Toby obliging us with a chick flick was definitely a sign he felt badly for us. He usually grumbles and complains about the genre—but tonight—he was the perfect companion.

Not once did Toby touch alcohol. I suppose our crying stint sobered him up quickly.

After the movie, we all went straight to bed. I was exhausted from all the crying.

Sleep couldn't come soon enough.

"Help…anyone….please," my small defeated voice pleaded as I pounded through the thick oak door.

It was Papa's one month death anniversary.

"Can you stop with the stupid loud pounding, you little rat? No one is letting you out. So, shut up and let me concentrate in watching my show!" my cousin Caroline hissed furiously against the linen closet door.

My shirt was soaked with tears and it was starting to feel chilly inside the closet. I bunched up my tiny fists and slammed it against the door again.

"I didn't mean to be late waking up. I'm sorry! I promise I won't do it again!" My small fist pounded a little harder, until I had no more strength.

After another hour of crying, my body started to furiously shiver.

"Papa….why did you have to leave me with them?" I spoke in a whisper.

"Papa, please come back. I need you…." my tiny voice pleaded.

I immediately woke up startled and turned on the lamp beside my bed. I was freely crying. Papa….

I haven't dreamt about that damn tiny closet in almost two years. Why are the dreams coming back now? The therapy definitely opened unhealed wounds and now they've resurfaced.

The only chance I have now is to brave it out and finally deal with it. Maybe Dr. Murray was right. It was high time I talk to someone about it. For almost thirteen years, I've bottled everything up. It's no wonder I'm so messed up.

I wanted to call Kyle, but I knew it wasn't fair to bother him at this odd hour. I would save that late night talk for when I really need to.

Turning off the lamp, I closed my eyes and slowed my breathing. I pictured my happy childhood with my father—him putting me to bed and reading my favorite bedtime story—him singing while he cooked us a meal with a huge grin—or when he taught me how to draw.

Memories of my father eased my troubled mind and put me back to sleep.

Sleep tight, my sweet pea….be strong…I love you….my dad's soft voice whispered through the darkened night.