They took me away and I never came back. My body came back. The rape kit came back: negative. My mind still held residence at Watershed Heights. But my soul, the real me never returned. I came back to Homer as a hollow shell of the woman he once loved.
In the ambulance, I would have thought the siren would be even louder than before, but contrarily, it was almost silent. The ride, however, was not serene. The medical people cut off my clothes and left me bare. The examined my body and calculated my chances of severe injury, survival, emotional breakdown. I wasn’t there to them, I was just another situation to be handled. I was poked and prodded for a reaction. The hospital doctors poked and prodded me too. They bandaged my wounds and taped my ribs and stitched me up so Homer could take me home. The Speiers gave me two months off work so I could recover, but I told them that wasn’t right. I turned in my notice the day I got home from the hospital. I stayed on my couch while Homer tried to make me tomato soup even though it hurt his limp and thought. I stayed in my apartment for three weeks and thought. I thought as I healed and I thought for a while after that. And when I finally saw daylight for the first time in those three weeks- when I finally stepped outside, I knew that I did not believe in God anymore.