Page 52 of Innocence

“Nothing happened to me!”

“Something happened to make you this way,” said Rachelle. “Who created your fears?”

“They weren’t fears. It was smart to be cautious. Don’t touch the wood; you’ll get splinters. Don’t watch the television; you’ll see and hear horrible things. Don’t listen to the radio; it’s propaganda. It was smart!”

“Beatrice, it’s not smart. It’s manipulating. Who did this to you?” asked Mary.

The young girl turned in a circle several times, looking at all the faces that were looking at her. She tapped the sides of her head with the heels of her hands, shaking her head several times.

“Beatrice? Who?” repeated Mary.

“My grandmother! My grandmother, okay! She was so religious. So pious. Everything was evil. Everything was filled with fear. I couldn’t touch anything. I couldn’t do anything. If I did, I paid for it. Touch nothing. Touch nothing. Touch nothing.”

“Beatrice, it’s going to be okay now. We’re going to try and get you some help.”

“Help? I don’t need help. They need help. They need to overcome their fears and phobias. Fears and phobias. Fears and phobias. Fears and phobias.”

“Christ,” whispered Miller.

“She’s bad, Pierre,” said Rachelle. “Her grandmother really did a number on her.”

“Everyone. Grandmother was found dead five years ago in a small, remote cabin in northern Arkansas. She was skinned alive.”

“Holy shit,” muttered Ghost.

“Beatrice, do you have any weapons on you?” asked Mary.

“Weapons? No. I don’t touch metal. I don’t touch steel. I don’t touch wood. No. No. No. If you touch those things, you’re punished. You’re punished!”

“We need to get you some help, Beatrice. Come with us,” said Mary. Behind them, multiple sheriff’s vehicles were waiting, their flashing lights turned off, as it was one of her many fears.

“There’s no help for me,” she said in a defeated tone.

“Why don’t we see about that,” said Rachelle. “I’m going to bet we can give you some peace.”

“Will I sleep?” she asked.

“Yes, honey. You’ll sleep.”

“That is one fucked up young woman,” said the sheriff.

“She’s sick,” said Rachelle defensively.

“I know, I know. I just don’t understand how someone gets that far. She’s not connected to reality. She’s afraid of every damn thing around her.”

“That’s why she killed the others. She was afraid of their fear and of them,” said Rachelle. “She’s so twisted up and abused, I’m not sure she will ever be released.”

“We’ve got the buses loaded,” said Angel. “We’ll get the kids back to the university.”

“We’re going to have to explain what just happened,” said Mary. “Those students deserve an explanation. We put them at risk out here with her. They deserve to know.”

“We will tell them in class tomorrow,” said Noah. “I will be there to help you.”

“Thanks, big guy,” smirked Mary.

“You are welcome, little gal,” he said, trying to be playful. Mary just chuckled, shaking her head.

“Let’s go home.”

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