Status: Active Once More
The Girl Who Cried Rape
Cleaning Up The Messes That You've Made
One moth is all it takes, thirty short days for my world to be turned completely upside down once again. In that one month Eric and I fall into a comfortable rhythm of long phone calls, lingering smiles and pausing before saying each other’s names with a small smile on our tired lips. After that night on my roof, our roof as I now think of it, Eric and I fall into a comfort that only exists from unanswered questions and shared secrets. Eric does not become my confessor, and while I do not become his confidant, we do become real friends, more so than ever before.
Two weeks into our new routine Eric asks the details of what happened to me. As I eye him with curiosity I am reluctant to respond. I am sitting at a lunch table with my chair pushed in so tight, to let a girl carrying three trays of food pass, that I can barely breathe. Eric’s question leaves me as equally breathless, as I remove the table from my ribs and their indent on my lungs.
“Was it Seth?” Eric is frowning at Seth who is sitting at a table to our right, watching us with a cocky smile.
I turn and stare at Seth searching every centimetre of his classically handsome face, searching for the remnants of a boy I knew a long time ago. I do not find any kindness in his eyes, or any regret in the lines of his smile. I see, and what is the hardest to understand, is how he looks exactly like the boy who promised to be my friend for eternity. He doesn’t have devil horns of a pointy tail. He is simply the same boy that cared for me and then broke me. He is the boy I once loved, maybe even more than a friend.
I shake away the memories of feelings that have been long since repressed and turn to Eric. He is waiting patiently for me to respond, and I suppose our silent agreement to never speak of what happened has been broken. A part of me is glad to have him ask these questions, the secret is so heavy on my heart, but the other side of me is desperate to protect someone who stopped caring for me a long time ago. Whether that is Seth or Tamara I am not sure.
Eric voices what seems his thoughts more than rather anything else asking, “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” I am reluctant to answer because this part is embarrassing and pathetic. But Eric has such a sweet and kind look on his face that I find myself spilling out words I never intended to say out loud.
“Tamara,”
“What about her?”
“She’s happy,” I say suddenly desperate to tell Eric everything and have him save me from my past.
“Why does that matter?”
I think of Tamara and all the little secrets that she has shared with me, I think of how sad she gets when she is alone and the scars that litter her pretty little thighs, the ones she tries to hide so feverishly. I see past the evil veneer she has put on around me and look into the small girl’s heart, which may be more broken than mine.
“She’s a hard person to make happy,” I admit, “Not even I could do it all the time,” I trail off as Tamara smiles at Seth. I feel bad for blowing up at her in the library all those days ago. She much like myself is just trying to make it to the next day, “And he makes her whole face light up, like I’ve never seen before and… That seems worth it.”
“What if he does it to her?” Eric remarks in such an offhand way that it takes all the air from my lungs and I cough.
“She… She would have said something; besides he loves her” I think of the secret Seth shared with me before he and Tamara got together feeling a hollow pit in my stomach.
“You didn’t,” Eric says and his words hit me like a ton of bricks. My lungs ache for air, and I realise I am holding my breath. Eric shrugs, as a haze of purple falls into the seat across from me, as if he has stated something as unimportant as the time or the weather. I stare at Jenna a million thoughts buzzing through my mind at such an excelled rate it brings about the beginnings of a migraine.
I want so desperately to explain to Eric everything, everything between me and Tamara and Seth, but he is no longer interested in me. He is staring at Jenna with a look that for some reason makes my heart hurt and my head ache even more. I want to desperately to reach out over the table and pull his attention back to me, I sit on my hands instead.
I stare at Eric as he smiles at Jenna the same way Seth once smiled at me, a look that screams something I cannot or more likely will not understand.
Two weeks into our new routine Eric asks the details of what happened to me. As I eye him with curiosity I am reluctant to respond. I am sitting at a lunch table with my chair pushed in so tight, to let a girl carrying three trays of food pass, that I can barely breathe. Eric’s question leaves me as equally breathless, as I remove the table from my ribs and their indent on my lungs.
“Was it Seth?” Eric is frowning at Seth who is sitting at a table to our right, watching us with a cocky smile.
I turn and stare at Seth searching every centimetre of his classically handsome face, searching for the remnants of a boy I knew a long time ago. I do not find any kindness in his eyes, or any regret in the lines of his smile. I see, and what is the hardest to understand, is how he looks exactly like the boy who promised to be my friend for eternity. He doesn’t have devil horns of a pointy tail. He is simply the same boy that cared for me and then broke me. He is the boy I once loved, maybe even more than a friend.
I shake away the memories of feelings that have been long since repressed and turn to Eric. He is waiting patiently for me to respond, and I suppose our silent agreement to never speak of what happened has been broken. A part of me is glad to have him ask these questions, the secret is so heavy on my heart, but the other side of me is desperate to protect someone who stopped caring for me a long time ago. Whether that is Seth or Tamara I am not sure.
Eric voices what seems his thoughts more than rather anything else asking, “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” I am reluctant to answer because this part is embarrassing and pathetic. But Eric has such a sweet and kind look on his face that I find myself spilling out words I never intended to say out loud.
“Tamara,”
“What about her?”
“She’s happy,” I say suddenly desperate to tell Eric everything and have him save me from my past.
“Why does that matter?”
I think of Tamara and all the little secrets that she has shared with me, I think of how sad she gets when she is alone and the scars that litter her pretty little thighs, the ones she tries to hide so feverishly. I see past the evil veneer she has put on around me and look into the small girl’s heart, which may be more broken than mine.
“She’s a hard person to make happy,” I admit, “Not even I could do it all the time,” I trail off as Tamara smiles at Seth. I feel bad for blowing up at her in the library all those days ago. She much like myself is just trying to make it to the next day, “And he makes her whole face light up, like I’ve never seen before and… That seems worth it.”
“What if he does it to her?” Eric remarks in such an offhand way that it takes all the air from my lungs and I cough.
“She… She would have said something; besides he loves her” I think of the secret Seth shared with me before he and Tamara got together feeling a hollow pit in my stomach.
“You didn’t,” Eric says and his words hit me like a ton of bricks. My lungs ache for air, and I realise I am holding my breath. Eric shrugs, as a haze of purple falls into the seat across from me, as if he has stated something as unimportant as the time or the weather. I stare at Jenna a million thoughts buzzing through my mind at such an excelled rate it brings about the beginnings of a migraine.
I want so desperately to explain to Eric everything, everything between me and Tamara and Seth, but he is no longer interested in me. He is staring at Jenna with a look that for some reason makes my heart hurt and my head ache even more. I want to desperately to reach out over the table and pull his attention back to me, I sit on my hands instead.
I stare at Eric as he smiles at Jenna the same way Seth once smiled at me, a look that screams something I cannot or more likely will not understand.