Status: complete!(:
It's Yours
Two.
I spent a month letting Jacob have his way with me. Jake wanted me to have sex all the time now. Monday was the movies. Then sex. Tuesday was a walk. Then sex. Wednesday was homework. Then sex. Thursday I had to babysit. Then Jake would pick me up for more sex. Friday I would say I had to hang with Becky. So no sex then. But Saturday was all day sex. At his house. Sunday was church. Then sex. Which was so unholy. Seeing as it was The Lord’s Day and everything. Jake had never really cared about God though.
Every time I would put on a brave face and let him do whatever he wanted. I would just remember that it would end soon. He always parted with a kiss, a smile, and a “You were amazing.” I stopped even looking at him when we did it.
The pain wasn’t getting better. It was getting worse. It got to the point where Jake would leave and I wouldn’t even be able to move. I would lie in my bed, naked and crying from the pain.
Every time Jake asked, which wasn’t very often, I would tell him it didn’t even hurt anymore. It was a lie. Every single movement sent knives along my body. Ripping it open, renewing the pain.
As I lay in bed at the end of the month I remembered the first time I had seen Jake. It was the first day of tenth grade. Every single girl fell in love with him. Jake just does that. But not me. He could have any girl he wanted, but the girl he wanted didn’t want him. So he refused to talk. He said that he wouldn’t talk at all until I went on a date with him. I giggled at the memory. He was such a stubborn silly boy. But he did it. I began to want him, though I tried to fight the feeling. I wanted him to talk and to be mine and to make me happy. So, like I always do, I caved. We’d been dating ever since. Well, except for that time…that time he… that time he left in...No! I refuse to revisit that memory. I don’t need that pain.
Tears were streaming down my face. The memory was overpowering me. I fought against it but the questions were already blossoming in my mind.
Why did he do that? Why did he leave me that time? Why was he pushing me so hard for sex now? I turned me face into my pillow and screamed. It felt good. It felt right. Like all this pain could be released in one long, loud, angry scream. I did it again. And again. And again until my voice disappeared all together. Then I just sobbed. Silent body-shaking sobs.
I don’t know when I fell asleep. It was probably in between the sobs and the tears. I lifted my hand to my face. Yuck. I could feel the tear stains. The salt had left a mark so that everyone could see my pain. I almost started crying again. What was with me? Why was I feeling so upset and emotional? I knew it wasn’t my period; I had had that at the beginning of the month, just before Jake and I had sex for the first time. No. These emotions were something else. The answer became oh so clear as I ran to the bathroom and heaved my dinner into the toilet. It was then that I realized I was actually a little more than a week late. Never once had I been late for my period. Never.
Every time I would put on a brave face and let him do whatever he wanted. I would just remember that it would end soon. He always parted with a kiss, a smile, and a “You were amazing.” I stopped even looking at him when we did it.
The pain wasn’t getting better. It was getting worse. It got to the point where Jake would leave and I wouldn’t even be able to move. I would lie in my bed, naked and crying from the pain.
Every time Jake asked, which wasn’t very often, I would tell him it didn’t even hurt anymore. It was a lie. Every single movement sent knives along my body. Ripping it open, renewing the pain.
As I lay in bed at the end of the month I remembered the first time I had seen Jake. It was the first day of tenth grade. Every single girl fell in love with him. Jake just does that. But not me. He could have any girl he wanted, but the girl he wanted didn’t want him. So he refused to talk. He said that he wouldn’t talk at all until I went on a date with him. I giggled at the memory. He was such a stubborn silly boy. But he did it. I began to want him, though I tried to fight the feeling. I wanted him to talk and to be mine and to make me happy. So, like I always do, I caved. We’d been dating ever since. Well, except for that time…that time he… that time he left in...No! I refuse to revisit that memory. I don’t need that pain.
Tears were streaming down my face. The memory was overpowering me. I fought against it but the questions were already blossoming in my mind.
Why did he do that? Why did he leave me that time? Why was he pushing me so hard for sex now? I turned me face into my pillow and screamed. It felt good. It felt right. Like all this pain could be released in one long, loud, angry scream. I did it again. And again. And again until my voice disappeared all together. Then I just sobbed. Silent body-shaking sobs.
I don’t know when I fell asleep. It was probably in between the sobs and the tears. I lifted my hand to my face. Yuck. I could feel the tear stains. The salt had left a mark so that everyone could see my pain. I almost started crying again. What was with me? Why was I feeling so upset and emotional? I knew it wasn’t my period; I had had that at the beginning of the month, just before Jake and I had sex for the first time. No. These emotions were something else. The answer became oh so clear as I ran to the bathroom and heaved my dinner into the toilet. It was then that I realized I was actually a little more than a week late. Never once had I been late for my period. Never.