Use Somebody

Marc and Abigail were sitting on his bed, Marc's back against the headboard and Abigail curled up in between his legs. She was wearing an oversized tee-shirt and her hair was a mess. Tears fell slowly from her eyes and her make-up that once neatly outlined her eyes was now caked onto her face in black clumps. Marc was rubbing her back slowly, and every so often she'd sniffle, but other than that there was not a sound in the room.

The night before was easily the worst night of Abigail's life. It was the night a part of her was taken she could never get back, the night her entire life flashed before her eyes, the night she spent mostly wishing she would die.

She didn't speak as she laid there, she hadn't spoken since it happened. Marc didn't even know what happened. All he knew was that Abigail came to his apartment at 4 o'clock in the morning, a complete wreck. She had been knocking on the door for some time when Marc finally answered it only to find her curled in a ball at his doorstep, crying her green eyes out.

Marc looked down at her, and felt the pit in his stomach grow. If he could, he would take every once of pain she was feeling at that moment and bring it on himself just so she wouldn't cry anymore. Just so she wouldn't have to go through what she was going through. He hated seeing people cry, especially one of his good friends. Though Marc wasn't exactly sure what had happened, he knew she didn't deserve it.

"Are you ready to talk now?" He asked her. He was anxious to know what had happened, and he had been racking his brain for the two hours she was there trying to think of what she was going through. Abigail sniffled in response and buried her head further into Marc's chest. He hesitated before he did so, but he pulled her closer to his body; wanting to let her know he was there for her.

She shuddered from his sudden sign of affection and pulled away from Marc completely. He suddenly felt horrible, but it only made him wonder even more about why she was crying. He wanted to know, and he wanted to know soon.

"I-I-I was-," she stuttered before choking on a sob and falling onto Marc's bed. She grabbed the sheets, balling them in her fists and crying loudly; shaking violently. Marc felt his heart twist at the sight of this and it was getting harder and harder to comfort her.

"It's okay," Marc cooed softly. Abigail sniffled and craned her neck so she could look Marc in the eye.

"No," she whimpered in a voice so small and pitiful it almost made Marc want to cry too.

"What happened Abby?" He asked her again, desperation clear in his tone. "I need to know so I can make it better."

"No," she repeated, with a small shake of her head.

"Abs-" he pleaded with her. Abigail looked up towards the ceiling and closed her eyes tightly, forcing the tears to stay in her eyes. She didn't want to cry anymore but it was all she could do. Her body still ached from what happened, she could still feel him all around her, touching her, violating her. She dropped her head down and stared at Marc's bedspread. She tried to think of something else, anything else, but all she could think of was how his hands felt on the inside of her thighs. How his lips felt against hers.

"He-he," she cried, her body shaking with sobs. She motioned with her hands around her body, to her chest, below her waist. Suddenly everything clicked in Marc's brain. His eyes got wide and all he could think about was the type of monster who would touch her. Poor, innocent, sweet Abigail. She wasn't a virgin, but the he knew that whoever did this to her took a very important piece of her with him.

"Abigail," he gasped. He wanted to reach out and hug her, wrap his arms around her and hug her so tightly that she couldn't breath. He wanted to tell her how much he cared and how much he wanted to be there for her.

But he knew that touching her like that would only make this worse. That being touched at all would bring back those memories. He wondered how she even laid in his arms for so long without saying a word or squirming out of his grasp.

"Why?" She asked, finally bringing her eyes to his. They were wide like saucers and completely bloodshot. Her eyes showed an unexplainable amount of pain, something Marc couldn't even fathom. "Why me?" Her voice cracked in the most heart-wrenching way possible.

"Abby," he said, his fingers lightly grazing her cheeks. "He can't hurt you anymore," he cooed to the broken girl before him. "I won't let him."

Her eyebrows knitted together and her chin crumbled up, her bottom lip quivering. "I still feel him everywhere," she told him, the quiver in her voice becoming almost unbearable for Marc to listen to. He could feel his heart breaking into millions of pieces as he looked at her.

This wasn't her. This wasn't the Abigail he knew. The Abigail he knew didn't cry, she didn't let anyone know she was weak. She liked to go out and have a good time, he almost never saw her without a smile on her face, and she was always laughing. It absolutely killed him to see her like this. As he watched her sit up and wrap her arms around herself, trying so hard to make herself feel better, feel normal. Suddenly, it clicked in his head. He knew what would bring her back to normal.

"Do you trust me?" He asked her, grabbing her hands suddenly and make her jump. Abigail looked up at Marc nervously, her eyes full of fear. His eyes however, were pleading with her. He wanted her so badly to trust him, to believe he would take care of her.

"Yes," she breathed.

"Good," he smiled.