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“You , Colt You’d’ve cleaned up in the UFC”

I shake my head “I’m well shut of all that shit”

“I know it, I know it Just saying” He holds his fist out, and I bu We’re past due for some cold ones”

“For sure Maybe Thursday”

“I could do Thursday Got some shit early, but that’s it”

I nod and he drives off I open Nell’s door and go in, singing a song so she’d knoasto get the feeling off She’ll be in there till the water runs cold I’ve seen too h this, friends I couldn’t be there to save

I took a new roll of paper towel from under the sink and her bottle of windex Fortunately, she had wood floors It’s easier to get blood off wood than carpet I sop up the blood, spray and scrub the wood, then find an old bottle of Pledge that she must use on her kitchen table I spray the floor and scrub some more Then I wipe the walls and everywhere else

Eventually, the water turns off and the y hair, clad in only a long Disney T-shirt that barely coh I clench my jaw and think of dead puppies and nuns and that tirandinally She looks

She doesn’t tense this ti, steady, even breaths

“It’s okay to cry,” I say

She shakes her head “No It’s not”

“You were just assaulted You’re allowed”

“I know But I won’t I can’t” She pushes away frooes into the kitchen

I take the bottle of Jack from her hand before she can drink from it “I’m not sure that’s the best way” She jerks it away and lifts it, but I take it again “It won’t go away forever It just comes back”

“I know” She reaches for it, and I hold it out of reach, snag a couple juice glasses froenerous shots “I need more than that”

“No you don’t”

She turns on ry “Don’t tell me what I need! You don’t knowpain hiskey It stops working after awhile And then there’s not enough whiskey in the world”

“You weren’t just raped”

“Almost raped I stopped hie difference between raped and almost raped” Her eyes blaze and I hold upthis is fine It’s not fine You’re allowed to feel what you’re feeling I’ whiskey won’t erase what happened”

“What the fk do you know” She slalass to her forehead, then holds out the glass for more

That’s when I see the scars A crosshatch pattern of fine white lines and ridges on her wrists and forearuised, not hidden So fresh

She sees me see, lifts her chin and daresa shirt, so I point to my chest, to my pectorals and breastbone and stoled wheat stalks I’ve tattooed over some, utilized others in tattoos, and left others bare and visible She reaches out with her forefinger, traces them, one scar after another Some short, like tally marks Some are tally marks: days survived in the pit,ones done for the sake of the pain, for the release

Yeah I knohy she cuts I just don’t know the seed-reason It’s deep inside her, and it’ll take tiet it out of her And I’ll probably end up telling her my reasons, too

Which I really don’t want to do

She looks up at“You cut?”

“Used to”