Status: Active Once More
The Girl Who Cried Rape
And Memories Never Seem To Fade
“It’s cold,” Eric mumbles as we lay on my roof staring upwards and at the stars. I am trying to count them, reach a hundred and be happy but each time I reach ninety I get confused and have to start all over again.
They all look the same from down here.
“You can go inside,” I whisper, Eric lets out a small chuckle as if I have said something completely preposterous,
“I just thought you might be cold,” I turn away from him and stare back at the stars, counting from one once again. But like a hundred times before the stars all blur into one, the stars so innocent at midnight seem almost menacing now. They are staring at me reminding me of what they saw that night, the night they saw what happened to me. These are the same stars from that night and I almost forgot.
I almost forgot the five months ago today I had laid on this roof before getting ready for that stupid party I wasn’t even sure I wanted to go to. The memories come and go but I still remember my heart beating in synchronisation with each thrust of my broken body.
A memory is fighting its way into my consciousness and I want to fight back, win this time and not remember but with Eric here I almost feel safe to relive it. I know he won’t let anything bad happen to me so I lay back and let myself remember, feeling my heart beat against my teeth.
My eyes are heavy like lead.
I think someone is forcing them closed. My body will not move no matter how urgently my frightened brain tells it to. My legs are pinned down and I realise that someone is holding me down, pushing on my tender flesh. I hear the sound of a zipper come undone and my eyes finally flutter open, I am almost glad until I stare into the eyes of a boy I barely recognise from my school.
“Open up baby,” He says and suddenly my mouth is full, whatever is in my mouth tastes stale and I gag as he presses it down my throat.
I am too out of it to fully understand what is happening. On reflex I bite down on the object in my mouth, the boy whose eyes I do not recognise in the harsh light of the room pulls himself out of me and rubs his penis. I gag as I realise, as I comprehend what is happening.
My eyes are so heavy but I fight to keep them open, I fight to stay awake. I fight to fight this boy off of my but I am barely moved everything feels like it is happening in reverse. Like I am being tortured, only I don’t understand why. Why am I being tortured like this? I am being ripped open and broken from the inside out.
“The bitch bit me,” The boy rubbing his penis screeches, but I barely hear him. Fluid, disgusting stomach acid is flowing through my body, up, up from my stomach and into my throat, someone is tilting my head vomits flowing from my mouth.
“She just had to puke,” A voice says, I recognise it but at the moment I cannot place it and that frustrates me.
I lay back down feeling the weight of the situation in my chest, I need to get out, get home and tell the police. I am suddenly very cold, only I can’t get up and get free, people are holding me down and I am stuck. My arms are being held against my will and suddenly the thing, his penis is in my face, pressing against my lips. I taste like vomit and my eyes will no focus no matter how I wish they would.
It is late, but how late I am not sure. My curfew is set at 12 pm. I need to go home, run away from these boys and find a saviour in my parents. I don’t understand the hands that hold me down, that rape me, I just need to go home.
I don’t want to get in trouble.
My curfew comes and goes and with it so do several more hours of this soul shattering torture. I awake in the morning in the middle of the football field, my dress not sitting properly and my underwear missing, bruises marking my thighs which are stuck together with blood and semen. Being late for my curfew suddenly seems the least of my problems.
“Eric,” I mumble into the darkness. The words, like vomit from the night I was broken, is free flowing from my mouth and it is a nice escape from the memories,
“Yeah?”
“I was raped.”
Eric doesn’t flinch, his hand however finds mine in the darkness and I stare at the stars as they stare back at me, with the same shine as that night five months ago. Eric’s hand is warm and mine is cold. Eric is warm and I am cold. I need to be warmed up, the stars and I rejoice in this simple truth.
“I know,” He replies after several minutes, we stare at the sky with sadness and relief.
The stars are really quite pretty if you can get past the secrets they hold.
They all look the same from down here.
“You can go inside,” I whisper, Eric lets out a small chuckle as if I have said something completely preposterous,
“I just thought you might be cold,” I turn away from him and stare back at the stars, counting from one once again. But like a hundred times before the stars all blur into one, the stars so innocent at midnight seem almost menacing now. They are staring at me reminding me of what they saw that night, the night they saw what happened to me. These are the same stars from that night and I almost forgot.
I almost forgot the five months ago today I had laid on this roof before getting ready for that stupid party I wasn’t even sure I wanted to go to. The memories come and go but I still remember my heart beating in synchronisation with each thrust of my broken body.
A memory is fighting its way into my consciousness and I want to fight back, win this time and not remember but with Eric here I almost feel safe to relive it. I know he won’t let anything bad happen to me so I lay back and let myself remember, feeling my heart beat against my teeth.
My eyes are heavy like lead.
I think someone is forcing them closed. My body will not move no matter how urgently my frightened brain tells it to. My legs are pinned down and I realise that someone is holding me down, pushing on my tender flesh. I hear the sound of a zipper come undone and my eyes finally flutter open, I am almost glad until I stare into the eyes of a boy I barely recognise from my school.
“Open up baby,” He says and suddenly my mouth is full, whatever is in my mouth tastes stale and I gag as he presses it down my throat.
I am too out of it to fully understand what is happening. On reflex I bite down on the object in my mouth, the boy whose eyes I do not recognise in the harsh light of the room pulls himself out of me and rubs his penis. I gag as I realise, as I comprehend what is happening.
My eyes are so heavy but I fight to keep them open, I fight to stay awake. I fight to fight this boy off of my but I am barely moved everything feels like it is happening in reverse. Like I am being tortured, only I don’t understand why. Why am I being tortured like this? I am being ripped open and broken from the inside out.
“The bitch bit me,” The boy rubbing his penis screeches, but I barely hear him. Fluid, disgusting stomach acid is flowing through my body, up, up from my stomach and into my throat, someone is tilting my head vomits flowing from my mouth.
“She just had to puke,” A voice says, I recognise it but at the moment I cannot place it and that frustrates me.
I lay back down feeling the weight of the situation in my chest, I need to get out, get home and tell the police. I am suddenly very cold, only I can’t get up and get free, people are holding me down and I am stuck. My arms are being held against my will and suddenly the thing, his penis is in my face, pressing against my lips. I taste like vomit and my eyes will no focus no matter how I wish they would.
It is late, but how late I am not sure. My curfew is set at 12 pm. I need to go home, run away from these boys and find a saviour in my parents. I don’t understand the hands that hold me down, that rape me, I just need to go home.
I don’t want to get in trouble.
My curfew comes and goes and with it so do several more hours of this soul shattering torture. I awake in the morning in the middle of the football field, my dress not sitting properly and my underwear missing, bruises marking my thighs which are stuck together with blood and semen. Being late for my curfew suddenly seems the least of my problems.
“Eric,” I mumble into the darkness. The words, like vomit from the night I was broken, is free flowing from my mouth and it is a nice escape from the memories,
“Yeah?”
“I was raped.”
Eric doesn’t flinch, his hand however finds mine in the darkness and I stare at the stars as they stare back at me, with the same shine as that night five months ago. Eric’s hand is warm and mine is cold. Eric is warm and I am cold. I need to be warmed up, the stars and I rejoice in this simple truth.
“I know,” He replies after several minutes, we stare at the sky with sadness and relief.
The stars are really quite pretty if you can get past the secrets they hold.