Amazing Life Goes Horrible Once Raped

It had been a few weeks since...what happened to me and I didn't tell a soul, didn't really speak for that matter. I had a new phobia though. Just looking at someone with blue eyes would give me a small panic attack. I knew I needed to tell someone, but I was scared to death. I was afraid to be alone, too. When I went to bed at night—in tears—I would swear that I was being watched. The tears at night were about the only form of emotion I had. I didn't smile, laugh, or even get angry. I was robotic.

Things would only get worse with school starting in two days.

I looked down the isle of notebooks. I had decided to go last minute school shopping with Marilyse.

"Which one should I get?" I asked her, my voice flat.

I heard something hit the ground and almost mechanically turned my head to look. Marilyse stood fuming by the binders, with a black one on the ground in front of her.

"What?" I asked.

"What?" she repeated. "You're not yourself anymore. You're not Marie Rosario." Anguish replaced her anger. "I don't know who you are." That last sentence was barely audible.

I reached down to pick up the binder she had thrown to the ground, ignoring the pain. The bruises were still going away, but there was also mental pain. Pain that would probably never go away.

"Is everything alright at home? I've noticed scars that weren't there and you seem to freak out when you're around some people," she mumbled, not looking at me.

I handed her the binder. "Everything's f—okay," I assured her, but I couldn't say "fine" because everything was most definitely not fine.

She looked up and she appeared to be close to tears. "I think...," she started, then bit her lip. "How do I say this?" she mused, then met my gaze completely. "I don't think we should hang out anymore; you have some problems that you need to work out."

"Oh," was all I could say in response to her words that had really cut me deep.

"I'm sorry." She put a hand on my shoulder, gave me a sympathetic smile, the walked away.

I had bet that she was planning it, that's why we both met up at Staples in our own cars.

I found five notebooks—one black, one red, one green, on orange, and one blue—and five matching folders for my classes, grabbed some pencils, pens, and highlighters, bought them all, then went out to my car.

I shoved my things in the back seat of my black Prius, then drove home.

My parents were waiting for me in the living room when I got in. I was instantly curious; my dad was supposed to be at work today and he never skipped work.

"Sit down," my mom said.

I walked over to the couch and sat, my Staples bag in my lap. My parents sat on either side of me. I looked at both of them. "What's going on?"

"When school starts you're going to visit the guidance counselor at least four times a week," my mom explained.

"Okay. Why are you home?" I asked turning to my dad.

"We thought you'd argue...?" He said it like a question which showed he was completely confused.

"I can go." And not say anything,I thought.

"That's...good. But don't you want to know why we're making you go?"

I looked down the plastic bag in my lap. "Cause I'm not myself anymore?"

"Yes...," my mom said hesitantly.

"Marilyse said that, and she said that it would be better if she gave me some time to work out what ever problems I had," I explained, still looking down.

My mother's arms wrapped around my shoulders. "I'm sorry. I can see how she wouldn't want to get herself mixed up in your problems. Still, if she was really your friend she would have tried to help you if you had problems."

I shrugged her off. "It's fine," I mumbled, then stood up. "I'm going to bed early tonight." I didn't wait for their responses and I hurried up the stairs and threw my bag onto the floor, and flung myself onto my bed.

Tears fell down my face. I had completely lost faith in anything when my only friend—who had been my friend since we were both in diapers-"broke up with me". That seemed like the only way to describe it. She was like my sister, we loved each other, laughed with each other, experienced everything with each other. For heaven's sake, we even got out periods at the same exact time! We told each other everything, we had no secrets...until now.

I sat up and wiped my tears away, then looked at the large analog clock that hung on the wall by my bathroom door. It was only seven at night, but I was exhausted. I climbed off my bed and changed into my PJ's; black shorts and a too-large T-shirt. I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, then climbed back into bed. I curled myself into a ball and fell asleep with salt water falling from my eyes.

"Honey? Honey, get up," my mother's voice filled my mind and I groggily blinked open my eyes. "Oh, thank God."

I sat up and looked around. I was still in my bed, and when I looked out the window it was dark. Why did she have to wake me up? I probably didn't get more than a few hours of sleep. I looked at the clock. It was eight-thirty. Only and hour and a half of sleep. I looked at my mom. "Why'd you wake me up?"

"You've been sleeping for over twenty-four hours!" she exclaimed.

"What are you talking about? It's eight. I went to bed at seven—"

"Yes, seven O clock yesterday!" she nearly shouted.

My eyes widened. "What?"

"Oh! Emotion!" she screeched. "Surprise!"

I got out of bed and studied my mom curiously, wondering if she'd gone mad.

"Get dressed, do something, eat," she told me calmly, which only made me more confused. She left my room.

Only then did I realized what had happened. I had actually showed emotion for once. It shocked her. And she was probably already mad with worry since I slept for nearly a day. My trying to keep my family safe was also hurting them. I slumped to the floor and hugged my knees to my chest.