Amazing Life Goes Horrible Once Raped

After a few moments I stood back up and changed into the casual dress my mom had gotten me for my seventeenth birthday. It was green and comfortable. Maybe seeing me in my present would brighten my mom's mood. I brushed my hair, then stumbled my way downstairs.

"Jen! She has awaken!" my dad boomed happily. He had been sitting on the recliner in the living room reading.

"I told you she was awake, Don," my mother called from the kitchen. "But you didn't believe me."

My dad jumped out of his chair and hugged me. "We were so worried." He stepped back and looked at me. He smiled. "Your wearing your dress."

I managed a fake smiled, but from my dad's sad expression I probably didn't fool him. "Yeah," I mumbled.

He sighed. "Your mom had made salad and pasta a few hours ago, but she wouldn't let us eat until you woke up."

"Sorry," I said sincerely. How selfish of me to make my father wait for dinner. "I really am."

I gasped when I saw my dad start crying.

"Dad, whats wrong?" I asked frantically, hugging him.

My mom came running into the room and looked at me quizzically.

"What's wrong with him?" I asked her.

My dad pulled away when I asked that. "Nothing's wrong with me. There you are, clearly troubled, and getting apologetic for causing me to have dinner late! That's what's wrong!"

"So—," I began, but my dad cut me off.

"Don't say it! We—your mother and I—should be apologizing for not being able to help you, and preventing what ever's wrong with you now."

What was I doing to my family? I heard loud sobs and looked back at my mom. She was leaning against the wall crying. Crying, hurt, pain...everywhere. For one brief second I considered killing myself, but that would be selfish. My parents would be devastated. But then again they wouldn't have to deal with my for the rest of their lives if I was dead. They'd mourn for me for a few years, but then—knowing the people they were—they'd think, she's in a better place. She's away from what ever pain she was in.

I didn't know what to do. I brought my hands to my face and screamed. Even through my loud scream I could still hear my parent's crying. I was still screaming when they came over and hugged me. I finally stopped when they released me. That scream had somehow cleansed me. Let me express what was wrong without anybody understanding. The relief was overwhelming.

"I'm so sorry," I murmured to my parents.

My mom sniffed. "It's alright. If it helps you to scream, scream."

I embraced her again, then tried to scowl at her. "Now, let's have dinner. Your husband has been suffering," I scolded, jokingly.

My mom smiled. "That's the Marie I know."

The Marie that wouldn't be able to stay. Maybe she could come back when I was around my parents, around other people...no, she would never come back. A remnant of her would, just to make it look like I was fine. To ease the pain around me.

The next morning I woke to my alarm clock buzzing loudly from my bedside table. School. I quickly got out of bed, not tired one bit from my day long nap. I pulled out one of the new outfits I got for school. Nothing fancy; skinny jeans, a black and white stripped T-shirt, and my new black flats. After I changed I went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth and hair, used the bathroom, then skipped downstairs, a fake smiled on my face.

"Morning, Mom," I greeted as I stepped into the kitchen. "Dad at work?"

"Yes." She handed me a brown paper bag with my name on it. "I made you lunch."

I made my fake smile grow. She didn't see past it. "Thanks."

"There's toast in the toaster," she told me. "Good luck at school. I remember when I was a junior...Good times." She left the room.

"Where are you going?" I called after her.

"Getting ready for work. I kind of missed those little first graders."

My mom was a bus driver for the elementary and middle schools.

"Good luck to you, too!" I shouted, as a took a bite out of my toast, not bothering to butter it.

A few minutes after I had finished my toast I heard the shower go on upstairs. I looked at the clock on the stove, then gathered my book bag—I had organized it the night before—and left the house.

No other kids in middle school or high school lived near me, so I was surprised when I saw someone at the bus stop. I walked up to the person, the guy.

"Who are you?" I asked him. "Are you lost?"

He turned to me and I shrieked. He didn't just have blue eyes, he had the same eyes. I backed away from him.

"I'm Paul, I'm not lost, and are you alright?" He stepped towards me, and I cringed against the tree I had backed into.

They were the same eyes, but a different voice, and this person was slightly taller than the figure that...from the man on that night...

"Hello-o? Anyone home?"

I started shaking, but it wasn't because he still frightened me, I was just overwhelmed. "Y-yeah. Are you n-new here?"

"As a matter of fact I am. I guess you live here, too. What a pleasant surprise. If you need anything come look for me," he said suggestively.

My eyes narrowed. "You want a whore? Go look for Sara Parker when you get to school," I spat, then stormed away from him.

"Oh, you're a feisty one aren't you?" He followed me, his blue eyes really freaking me out. "I like em' feisty."

Bad memories overtook me when he said those words.

His lips crushed to mine and forced my lips apart. His tongue pushed its way into my mouth. I bit down, trying to cause him pain, but he seemed to enjoy it. I moaned then pulled his head away.

"You're so much fun when you struggle," he said.

After I was back at the bus stop I turned to face Paul. "Leave me alone."

He smiled. "You'll come around." He winked. "They always do."

I snorted the turned around. The memory of that night made me ache all over and I felt tears fall down my face.