The Girl Who Cried Rape

I have not been able to sleep since my little ‘accident’, my mother has started counting her sleeping pills so no refuge will be found there and I am under tight security with my parents coming to check on my every hour of the day I am home. Which is why tomorrow against my therapists orders I am going back to school which may also be a reason I cannot sleep.

I remove my covers as the cold air hits my body from my open window, and like so many times before I climb out my window and onto the trellis leading to the roof. When I reach the roof my arms shake with exertion as I pull myself up.

I lay down on the cold tiles and push my headphones in, Jeff Buckley’s haunting voice fills my ears and I feel myself relax, I stretch out on the cool tile and close my eyes falling almost instantly asleep, for the first time in a week I sleep peacefully.

“Ryan,” A voice whisper yells from somewhere in front of me, Joan Jett’s raspy voice sings in my ears rousing me from my sleep, but I could have sworn someone said my name.

I open my eyes not expecting to find anything and look around, right in front of me standing on my roof is Eric. I had half expected my angry parents to find me out here but they don’t stare back at me, Eric does and I am startled even more awake.

“You’ll wake the neighbours” I say laying back down again not in the mood to deal with Eric.

I know I called him the day I was released from the hospital but nothing has really changed since that day he walked away only now I know he is capable of callously leaving me behind and I want no part in that. I close my eyes and will him to leave, I feel his body heat as he gets situated next to me and grumble something about him needing to leave,

“What are you doing?” He whispers not away that my parents, the only people who could possibly hear us are on the other side of the house at the front of the upstairs facing the street.

“My such a sweet thing,” I sing in response to Eric’s question because really it is none of his business, we are neighbours that is it. I want nothing more than to fall asleep here under the stars, Eric on the other hand has different ideas.

“Ryan” He says grabbing my iPod and pausing my music, I sit up and stare at him for the first time, he is decked out in a hoodie and a pair of flannel pyjamas, self-consciously I pull my pyjama’s tighter around myself trying to shield myself from him.

“What?” I ask annoyance laced deeply in my voice.

“What are you doing up here? You aren’t going to hurt yourself again are you?” His voice is quiet and I scoff loudly into the night’s air,

“What business is it of yours what I do?” I ask snatching my iPod back,

I don’t play the music though and I can’t understand why not. I will not say I haven’t thought about jumping off the roof, but it is much too low to do more than hurt myself, it wouldn’t end anything and just freak my parents out even more.

I sigh leaning back on my elbows and chew on my lip, I hadn’t mean to snap, really I promise. I am just so sick of everyone thinking, even if they do have that right, that I am going to off myself at any given chance.

“I don’t sleep well” I say quietly, Eric doesn’t move and for a second I think he has fallen asleep than he turns his head and stares at me, kindness on his angelic face, I hate him just a little bit. “So when I can’t sleep I come out here, I’ve been doing it for a long time”

“Ryan?”

“Yeah?”

“You’ll get through this you know” But the truth? The truth is I don’t think I will, I think, no I know the sadness has already won. I hate myself because Eric and his sweet concerns are too late.

I sit with my head between my thighs taking low shallow breaths, the leather interior of my car fills my nostrils, the seat are uncomfortable but I don’t know if that is just me, and I feel sick.

I squeeze my eyes closed as tightly as I can, feeling the room spin around me desperate to fight off this sudden and unwanted wave of nausea. I feel my body heave and up from the pit of my stomach comes yellow bile that stings my throat. I spit it out the car door my feet firmly planted on the ground as I sit half in and half out of the car.

I squeeze my eyes tighter still desperate to keep the tears at bay. I am going back to school today and for some reason despite my mother offering me another day of sanctuary at home I had been insistent on going, I am still trying to understand that thought process, but here I am sitting in my car waiting for the nausea and bile to pass.

“Shit” I mutter wiping a hand across my hand, I reach into the passenger side of the car and grab a water bottle taking a sip and swishing water around my mouth spitting it in the driveway trying to lose the taste of yellow bile in my mouth.

I am staring at the ground willing it to stop spinning when a pair of black and white converse shoes enter my field of vision. I follow the feet up to the jean clad legs to the smiling face staring back at me. Eric.

“Go away” I order,

“You okay?”

“Peachy” I mumble looking anywhere but Eric’s eyes, they are so concerned and I can’t look in them, not now in my moment of weakness it will just hurt too much. I remind myself he walked away that night, sure I pushed him away but he still left and I can’t let that kind of pain back in my life, not again. Eric leans against my car,

“Need a lift?”

“I’m fine Eric” I reply dragging my tired legs into my car, the effort proves to be too much and nausea creeps back into my being and throat making me cough and splutter like an idiot. A dark hand reaches out to me,

“Please Ryan,” Eric says earnestly still with his outstretched hand,

I ignore it but I do look back up at him and make eye contact this time, he has the oddest colour eyes, a mix between hazel and green and for a moment I find myself lost with no hope of getting found.

I don’t know what it is, Eric’s eyes or the wave of nausea I am battling but for some reason I place my fragile hand in his strong one and accept his help, even if it is only in the form of a ride to school.
The car ride with Eric for the most part is awkward with Eric trying to fill the silence that fills the small automobile. “Everyone is really concerned about you” Eric lies through his teeth; I refrain from rolling my eyes.

I let out a hoarse bark of a laugh, “Do you always lie to suicidal people?” I ask a smile seeping into my voice,

“Suicidal?” Eric echoes stopping the car suddenly at a red light, I fly forward catching myself on the dashboard turning to stare at him in disbelief,

“What?” I ask, I didn’t say that… did I?

“You said suicidal… Are you suicidal Ryan?”

“No, I took twenty sleeping pills accidentally” I reply unsure what I am doing, I am unsure what I am trying to insinuate. I am just so tired of lying to myself and the people around me. I close my eyes and lay my head back anxiety making my heart reach my throat.

“I’m sorry” Eric says suddenly, the car stopping, I think we are at school I can hear the first warning bell ringing but I refuse to open my eyes. I don’t want to get out of this car my legs feel heavy and my heart is jumping around frantically.

“For what?” I ask for no other purpose than to distract myself from the fact I am back at school.

I focus on taking slow even breaths a new technique my shrink taught me in our last less than successful sessions. It does nothing. I put my head between my legs, “Don’t worry I won’t barf in your car” I tell him putting him at ease continuing to take small breaths.

“I didn’t know Ryan,” I don’t move an inch partly because I am desperate to hear what Eric has to say next and partly because I don’t want any more stomach acid to find its way to my mouth. “I didn’t notice how sad you were… I won’t make that mistake again… I promise” A tear falls from my eye and I quickly wipe it away annoyed this strange boy has elicited such a response from me.

“I don’t need your concern” I snap at Eric refusing to look at him, pulling out my iPod and switching the song to the Clash, should I stay or should I go, “We aren’t friends, we aren’t buddies, we aren’t anything. We are neighbours that is it. I will find my own way home” I say playing the song loud enough to drown out anything else Eric might say.

I grab my bag and quickly exit the car in search of the front doors to the school entrance. I don’t slip inside though, instead I walk around the side of the school and lean against the cool brick building.
I swallow a lump in my throat and focus on trying to gain some control over my heart beats, each beat is harder and louder than the last leaving me on edge and irritable. “Ryan?” A familiar voices asks registering just above my music.

I glance up and stare at the last person on earth I want to see, my attacker from that night all those moons ago when I was broken beyond repair, a million memories flash through my head.
“Hey there Ry” A familiar voice says above the music filtering in through the stereo speakers in the small stucco one story house we are currently in. I glance to my side with a smile bumping the owner of the voice with my hip in jovial fun.

“Hey there Setho-boy” I say using my childhood nickname for one of the longest friendships I have ever had. Seth is a good guy with impeccable taste in girls, I would know he is dating my best friend. I trust him with my own heart and I have in the past finding solace in his kind words and easy smile.

“Here have a drink” He says handing me a plastic red solo cup I quickly sip from it ignoring the sting the alcohol gives to my already dry throat; it is so hot in here I can barely think let alone breathe. Seth is swaying slightly on his feet and I know since we arrived together two hours ago with Tamara in tow he has had more than one alcoholic beverage.

“Ryan!” Tamara says bounding up to me a bundle of energy as always, she flings her arms around me and holds me close mumbling in my ear about something I can’t quite hear. I tell her to speak up over the music listening intently. Seth is watching us from the corner of his eye and something, I’m not sure what feels off. I still can’t hear Tamara and the room is making me dizzy.

I shake away the remnants of a fractured memory long since forgotten and stare at the owner of the voice, Seth, as he towers over me standing nearly six foot three to my five foot four frame.

My body doesn’t react and then reacts all at once, everything is moving around me the trees and the bushes and the lone flower sprouting a few feet to my left, it is all moving and I can’t stay still. I am a bundle of nervous energy yet somehow I am frozen to the spot and these two extremes coexisting within me makes me physically ill.

“What are you doing here all alone?” I want so desperately to speak to condemn my condemner but fear has stolen my words. Bile rises in my throat but fear pushes it away, I am too frightened to do anything but sit here and stare taking shaking breathes every few seconds.

“How have you been?” Seth asks as if we are old friends, or still friends but we aren’t he ruined that the night him and his football buddies ruined me.

I want to scream at him, scream bloody murder until someone saves me but I can’t make my voice work, it is lodged in my throat begging me to push it forward but I can’t. I am frozen in fear.

“Heard you tried to kill yourself… what happened?” For a second I think he is actually concerned and my heart tilts reminding me of the boy I once loved like a big brother until he laughs and I realise I am misguided in my thoughts, he doesn’t care.

He never did and suddenly the words are being pushed from my mouth, wait no that is bile. Bile is being pushed up and out my mouth and all over Seth’s brand new shoes, I rake with sobs as I wipe my mouth feeling naked and exposed.

“Bitch.” Seth snarls, I pull my knees to my chest and start rocking back and forth my knees knocking together trying to make myself as small as possible, it doesn’t work but Seth does walk away.

A million forgotten memories and feelings push their way to the surface of my mind as I watch Seth go, I swallow them and my fear with force resigning myself to the fate of never reacting like this again to Seth, I refuse to let him have that power over me. Next time I will fight no matter how hard I refuse to be weak… again.

I make it to first session too distracted to be anxious for the torment I know is eventually coming, I wonder what new rumours have been spread about me since I left, I suppose nothing could be as scandalous as the truth.

“Can I see the scars?” Someone I am not sure who I am too distracted by thoughts of Seth to focus on the owner of the voice asks, obviously ill-informed of how exactly I tried to kill myself, pushing my forward as I walk.

I stumble and fall into an empty seat my mind running a hundred miles a minute. I don’t remember much from the night of my attack but some parts are becoming clearer, memories are resurfacing and it is awful. I want nothing more than to forget but I am resigned to the fact that is not possible.

I close my eyes for a minute just desperate to lose the memory that filled my head earlier, “Ryan! You are not allowed to sleep in my class” A loud and angry female voice says forcing my eyes open and my heart into my throat, my teacher is staring at me with a look of annoyance.

“I wasn’t, I wasn’t sleeping” I choke out my biology teacher stares at me for a moment and decides to drop the issue, I wonder what it is about me that makes her let it go, how desperately pathetic I am maybe?

I stare down at my biology notes realising I haven’t actually made any, I sigh chewing on my bottom lip, I am so gonna fail the next big test. I am contemplating my future at community college when a balled up piece of paper flies threw the air and hits me smack in the back of the head, I glance up and look around for the owner of the paper. Carefully I unfold it preparing for words labelling me a liar and a slut, I am surprised and confused as I read the strange words in front of me.

Are you okay?

I look around again wondering who sent this note, who possibly cares about me I turn around once my teachers back is trained on me and notice a small purple haired girl with multiple piercings her eyes trained on me.

I look away quickly recognising her from around school. I am not sure of her name or what she would be doing sending me possibly caring notes. I set the note aside unsure what to make of it and try to focus on the words of my teacher, only to have another note hit me in the back of the head. I pick it up from the ground and carefully unfold more anxious than I was thinking that it was something mean.

I know you aren’t but that’s okay. I’m not okay either.

I’m sorry for what happened to you…

I reread the note at least a dozen times wondering what the hell this girl’s motives are, I take a small amount of solace in the fact that I am not the only one struggling. I do not reply to the note and another is not thrown, I sit in silence feeling my pain and this strange girl’s pain connect.
It is oddly comforting.

When class is finished I feel oddly okay for the first time in weeks, this strange girl’s admission has sort of made my day like I finally realise I am not the only one struggling and finally, finally someone might actually believe me. The small girl who threw the note makes her way slowly to my table and confidently pins me to my seat with her words and intense stare, “Hi”

“Hi” I squeak back nowhere near as confident as this girl,

“I heard you like the Clash, I like them too” I stare bewildered at this girl, what the hell is she doing? And what could be making her sad she seems so… happy. “You coming?” She asks moving to the door, I stay rooted to my spot staring after her, “It’s not as bad as you think” She says and I stare at her racking my brain for a reason she would be this nice to me, I really don’t deserve it.
“Okay,” I mumble not for a second believing her.

“I’m Jenna by the way,” She says reaching out for a handshake I stare at her further bewildered by her, she is just so… strange. “We had biology together last year” She says letting her hand drop when I don’t accept it.

“Oh” I don’t bother telling her my name she seems to know exactly who I am; I think everyone does now. Jenna is right though, walking through the corridor with someone else is a hell of a lot less scary, I am still shaking but with someone to potentially hold my hand, well it feels kind of nice.