The Little Things Give You Away

I woke up the next morning in my own bed this time, but unlike yesterday, I could remember that happened perfectly. My skin was so sore from how much I’d been crying last night. I remember how scared I was. He walked into my room and... I don’t want to go back there. I don’t want to think about any of that ever again!

My mum arranged all of it. She told me someone was coming. She said she’d picked him out especially for me. How could she do that? It’s disgusting.

Thinking about last night made me start crying all over again. I felt so weak, so used. I hated being like this. Vulnerability scares me; I’m not safe when I feel like this; I’m defenseless.

It was cold in my room, freezing even. It didn't help that I wasn't wearing anything. I wasn't even left in my boxers last night.

Soon after mum walked out, telling me that someone was coming, I heard a knock at the door. At the time I thought nothing of it, but now, if I knew what was going to happen I would’ve risked jumping out my bedroom window to get away. I don’t care about hurting myself; I just wish that that never happened.

I sat up in my bed and saw the marks all over my chest and stomach. I was covered in bruises from how hard he held me and hit me. Then there were the scratches he left from when he scrapped his finger nails across my body, digging them in at any chance he got. Some of the cuts even drew blood, that’s how rough the guy was.

Last night I was terrified, I never thought I’d have to go through something like that. It was rape; rape that my mum wound up getting paid for. That’s right; he paid my mum to spend a night with some kid he didn't even know.

I placed my finger on a dark bruise that was around my hips. I winced away from it, not only from the pain but from the memories. He held me there tightly, stopping me from moving away from him as he...as he, I can’t even say it. I can’t bring myself to say those words after what happened last night. I doubt I’ll ever feel comfortable with them again.

I wrapped my covers around myself as I tried getting out of bed. Everywhere was hurting. Why did that have to be me? I’m not wishing it on someone else, but I just want to know why it had to happen.

As I walked across my room to the wardrobe, I realized how obvious it was that I was limping. He did it all with so much power and force in such a short time as well. I’m going to be feeling this for weeks, I just know it.

I wiped my eyes when I caught my reflection in the small mirror that was on the wall of wardrobe. I was a mess. My hair was sticking out in all directions and my fringe was stuck down to my forehead from the tears that had somehow managed to reach there. There were hickeys on my neck as well. Seeing them made me cry even more.

I winced as I saw blood dried onto my lips and red smudges down my chin from where one of my snake bites had been pulled out. It was still stinging even though it had stopped bleeding now. Maybe I wouldn't find it so bad, you know, having a piercing pulled out, but because of the situation, I feel even worse about it. The man managed to pull it out with his own teeth, tugging away at it for at least ten minutes. It hurt so much, but I couldn’t do anything to stop him. He was free to do whatever he wanted to me.

That was the worst night of my life and there are so many things left behind to remind me of it; to make sure that I never forget.

I pulled out a pair of boxers from the drawer at the bottom of my wardrobe and a baggy shirt of my dad’s that he didn't take with him when he left, so I decided to keep it for myself. I then pulled on an old pair of jeans. I don’t have any pajamas and I don’t feel comfortable leaving my room without every bit of skin being covered, so getting dressed is the only option I have.

Carefully, I walked out of my room, checking that mum wasn't around. I then limped over to the bathroom and locked the door behind me, letting out a deep breath; I began to feel a little safer. I'm behind a locked door now. No one can get in.

I stripped down and quickly got into the shower, hoping to wash away anything he left on me. After all of that I just feel so dirty. I have a feeling that water isn’t going to do anything about that now though. Now that it’s happened I’m never going to forget about it.

As the water collided with my body I started shaking. I can’t remember what happened the night before last, what’s to say that it wasn't something similar? Sure I didn't notice any bruises or any other marks on my body that morning, but what’s to say it wasn't just with someone gentler that night? Oh God. If it has happened two nights in a row...what’s to say there won’t be a third?

That’s it. I can’t come home tonight if it’s going to be like this. I don’t want to leave either though. I know it’s not exactly safe here, but out there, I have no idea who I could bump into.

I'm too scared to risk anything right now. What’s wrong with me? You know what, I think it’s best that I stay away from school today too, someone will work out that something’s up and then that’ll be it, I’ll blab and then... Calm down. All I'm doing now is getting myself worked up. I don’t need this right now.

I have to go school. There’s no way I'm staying here and it’s way too cold to randomly roam the streets, plus I'm likely to have a panic attack whenever someone comes near me or looks at me funny. I doubt school will be much different either.

Today is going to be so hard for me to get through and all I can do is hope that I get through it without completely breaking down; the last thing I want to do at a new school. That will only make things harder. School would be a lot more complicated to deal with.

I stepped out of the shower and the cold air instantly wrapped itself around me. It made me shiver as I dried myself and then changed back into my clothes, which luckily provided me with a bit of warmth, however not as much as I would’ve liked.

This house was one of the coldest we’ve ever been in. Mum rarely has the heating on as she struggles with the bills now, meaning that she leaves the house a lot of the time and uses heating from public places or other people’s homes. I only get away from this place at school or if I go over to Matt’s.

This time without checking for my mum, I walked out of the bathroom and back into my room. I was still in shock from everything that happened, but I'm a lot less shaken up about it now. It’s not that I accept what happened, I just know that if I don’t try and push this out of my mind, I’m going to struggle with doing anything.

I sat down on my bed but then froze when I looked at the mattress. There it was; one more reminder. The mess that we’d made last night was still there, along with blood that he’d managed to get out from my body. As much as I want to say I can deal with this and that this is nothing, I just can’t. I can’t do this. As much as I tell myself I can cope...I know I can’t.

Tears were welling up in my eyes once more. This was starting to get old now. I hate crying. I only ever do it when I feel as if I'm at the lowest point possible or when I'm in a hell of a lot of pain. Right now both of those boxes would be ticked. The pain is unbearable and I feel as if things couldn’t get any worse for me. Last night I was raped. Anything strong about me was taken away and now I'm crumbling apart.

I tried to stop myself crying as I heard someone coming up the stairs. I knew it was mum, but even knowing that, I was still a little nervous about someone being there. I didn't want her to see me like this. She couldn’t know how much she managed to get to me.

My hands quickly wiped a few tears away as I saw my door handle moving.

“Morning,” she smiled at me, walking into the room and placing herself beside me on the bed. “Do you want me to wash the bedding for you?” she asked.

I nodded at her, but was unable to find my voice, not that I really wanted to use it right now anyway. Trying to talk while wanting to cry is an almost impossible task, and honestly, I’d rather not attempt it just yet.

“Was he rough?” she asked me.

Although I didn't want to, I couldn’t help sniffing. Was he rough? I love how much concern she’s showing. Isn't my mum the best? Ha, sarcasm...

“I'm sorry,” she whispered. “You know I didn't want to hurt you.”

I looked her in the eye and almost burst out laughing. She’s a liar. She planned all of last night and now she’s trying to convince me that she didn't want me getting hurt. That’s absolute bull and we both know it.

“Don't give me that,” I whispered, glaring at her.

“Riley, I admit I knew he might hurt you, but I wanted to show you how bad things can get before giving you any gentler ones to handle.”

I shook my head at her, not understanding what she was on about anymore. When she saw the blank expression on my face she elaborated.

“I thought you understood,” she sighed.

“Clearly not,” I grumbled.

What is there to understand exactly? She got mad with me and then hired some guy to rape me. Seems pretty simple really; it’s not as if she needs any realistic motives to do crap like that.

“You know we have money problems,” she sighed. “Just me working isn't enough to pay off the bills and all the debts we’ve got in over the years anymore.” I still didn't understand where she was going with this. “My job involves me sleeping with a lot of men who then pay me for it.”

My eyes widened and my mouth dropped open at her words. She was talking to me like a bloody kid! I know what prostitution is for God’s sake! She can’t be being serious. That’s...That’s sick.

“There’s a growing market for men wanting to hire other men,” she explained to me. My stomach started churning. It didn't take a genius to understand what she was trying to say now. “I told my boss that you’d be willing to help our business as well as get a bit more money to help out the family.”

“W-why?” I sniffed.

She wants me to be a prostitute. I am not selling my body to sickos just so they can get laid once in a while. I'm not doing it. She can’t make me!

“It’s the only solution Riley and I’ll look after you. Trust me, I won’t let it get as bad as last night and I’ll give you pointers-”

“Mum,” I gasped, hoping that all of this was some sick dream that I would soon wake up from. “Just...shut up,” I begged. “Don't. Say. Anything.”

“It’ll all be okay,” she said, ignoring my plea. “We’ll get through this together. We always do,” she whispered, resting her arm on my shoulder for a few seconds before getting up and walking out, leaving me to my thoughts.

As soon as she walked out, I did something I didn't expect I’d do. I grabbed hold of the photo I had at my bedside, it was now faced down after last night seeing as I didn't want that guy seeing it.

I looked at it, frowning at how happy we all looked in it; me, mum and dad. I wanted this to remember the good times, but looking back; they weren’t anything that impressive.

I took the photo out of its frame before taking one last look at it.

“One big fat lie,” I hissed. We weren’t and never will be a happy family, so what’s the point of keeping a picture that’s trying to tell us that we are?

My hands tore the photo in half, leaving half of me standing with mum and the other with dad. I started crying again as I ripped it into even smaller pieces and crumpled its remains into a small ball. I then grabbed hold of the frame that it’d been in ever since I was first given the picture.

I took one look at it and then through it against the wall at the other side of the room; smiling as it smashed and strands of glass fell down onto my carpet.

No more happy families.