—Sonnet 144, Lines 13-14 IF ERIN THE Rapist was surprised or upset that I was sitting behind her desk, she didn’t show it. She went over and sat down on the love seat. “Thank you for agreeing to talk with me privately before we do a family session,” she said. I felt myself swiveling back and forth in her chair. I looked up and met her gaze, but I didn’t say anything. In my mind I could hear the monster chanting Aaron the Rapist, Erin TheRapist. First the shout, Aaron the Rapist! Followed by an echo, Erin TheRapist. I looked away. “Maybe we should start with your just telling me a little bit about yourself.” She looked so relaxed, like this was some sort of college interview or something. Psycho Therapy. Psycho Therapist. Tell her what she wants to hear. “I was sexually assaulted.” I blurted it out like I didn’t even care, but I was swiveling faster now. She nodded. “One time or more than one time?” I stopped swiveling. “One time.” She nodded again. “How long ago was that?”
