Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: I just want to say in advance that I fully understand that this is a sensitive topic. I have not (and hopefully never will be) in a situation such as this and I mean no offence to anyone who has been or knows somebody that has experienced something such as this. If you are okay with reading something such as this, continue on and I hope you enjoy it :)
Amelia was tipsy.
It was something that she had registered in the far, deep recessive corners of her mind as another tasteless, burning liquid sloshed it's way down her gullet without a second thought. Hazed thoughts that had once been present, 'No, not another. You really shouldn't.' had long been abandoned in favour of the buzz of alcohol that had been smuggled to the party by some nobody's older brother. Trashy music blared it's way through the cheap and dying speakers, causing the walls to vibrate ever so slightly and was sure to drag the neighbours' attention to the place, but at the moment, no one really cared.
Ignoring how the world swayed gracefully at the corners of her vision, the girl stood with a little more effort than usual and made her way over to the snack table where all of the food and drinks were kept. The lighting was dim and red, too dim to see properly and the kind of red that would distort figures, make shadows look scarier and colours darker, deeper, more than they truly were. Those were the desired effects for many.
Clasping the cheap red plastic cup tightly in her hand, Amelia haphazardly freed the lid off of yet another beer can, the coolness having dissipated quickly in the heated air of the party, and filled her cup to the brim, some of the fermented barley spilling over the cusp. Such a simple, primitive thing to ease the lives on man, to provide an excuse, an escape. A tap on her shoulder brought her out of her drunken thoughts.
"Hey, are you alright?"
Confused, the girl turned around to see a lanky guy around her height looking at her with worry. The strange hints of an accent tickled at her mind before she realised who he was, exclaiming, "Ah, you're one of the foreign exchange students, Toris, aintcha? How're ya likin' the U S of A?" Though at first surprised, the boy scratched his head and looked away slightly, as if embarrassed by her forwardness, laying the coy on extra thick.
The two talked away into the night, deciding to remain by the snack table as they had a perfect view of the makeshift dance floor from there, watching as many tried to dance and, due to the toxins in their system, ultimately failed and ended up sprawled on their asses. They laughed at the display and talked at little more about their personal lives, basic chit chatter and small talk before the party began to take another turn.
When he had first kissed her, she had resisted.
Shock had initially invaded her system at the surprise of being kissed, how unexpected it was in the midst of such a casual conversation. But as the press of lips became stronger against hers, in a bid for escape a glance around her only confirmed that many others were doing the same, tongues tangled in each other's mouths, sloppy, wrapped up in their own frenzy. And so she gave in too, slightly wary of the situation but slowly being convinced that, maybe, this was okay, that this was normal. And so she indulged.
After around 15 minuted of inexperienced mouth to mouth, teeth clacking and tongues being bitten, the Lithuanian seemed to be interested in something more and was slowly tugging at her wrist, guiding her upstairs. A heavy blush formed across her cheeks and she followed meekly, too scared to say anything but hoping that her rigid body posture would say something, anything. Ignoring the wolf whistles called out by the guys, she sent out a silent plea to her friend for help, for a way out, but she too seemed caught up in the new and shiny game of lust and insecurity as well.
Hands shaking and palms sweating, dread squirmed and grew in the pit of her stomach as the thin plywood door closed behind them, cutting off the light from the house and muffling the sounds of the party. The whole room was encased in the glow of an amber street light from outside, illuminating the dust that was trapped within the sparsely decorated room.
Clammy hands like hers pushed at her shoulders with limited control onto the twin bed, the heady stench of alcohol apparent at his mouth enveloped hers yet again. Fingers slid down her body and would grope periodically at different places through her thin and sparse clothing. Not for him, but for the summer. She may have kissed back and she may have gripped his shirt, but no amount of alcohol could fool her into the complete mindset that she wanted this, and no level of peer pressure could sway her into believing that this was expected of her, that she needed to do this.
She was scared. Christ, she was scared. Summoning forth her scraps of courage, she pushed him away from her long enough to catch a breath of stale air, murmuring, "N-no. Toris, I don't want this."
The boy looked at her for a moment, unblinking, uncomprehending, before ridding himself of his shirt, the thin cotton falling to the floor, forgotten, before replying, "Don't worry, I'll make this good for you."
Tears welled up in her eyes as she struggled to fight back, the beer in her system making her sluggish, her movement uncoordinated as hot lips travelled down her skin, unwanted hands tugged at her shirt, as a foreign person pulled off her shorts. Shaking, near limp fists hit weakly at the boy's pale chest, a whispered and terrified mantra trailing endlessly from her swollen, cherry lips. No no no no no no, stop stop stop, please! I don't want this! I want to go home, I want to go home, I want to go home!
It was only when she saw him pull a condom out of his wallet that her thoughts came to a screeching halt, panic in her bones intensifying whilst a cold realisation settled over her mind. No, no I don't want this. I'm going to be raped here if I don't stop this. This is real. This is really really real. On the outside, she was faintly aware of her superman boxers, a birthday gift, so close, still so young, were pulled down her soft, supple things.
Too young, too young, too young. Only just sixteen, only just starting to turn into an adult. Because even if she pretended that she was too old to be babied, that she could manage fine on her own and was old enough to make her own choices, the truth was glaring and right up in her face.
Teenagers were still girls with Barbie doll dreams, their lipstick and high heels becoming real. Except this time they weren't walking their dog or helping their little sister around the house. They were being caught up in the tidal wave of peer pressure, hoping to become a diamond under it all. Their beautified dreams a false mask of the dirty reality. Their drinks of sugar that would hype them up turned to alcohol to subdue them and their faded memories of bad choices they lacked the wisdom to make right.
And there were still boys, not men, only boys with their toys and they drove around in their ford race cars, charming little girls, no more mature than themselves, living the big dream of alcohol, parties and unprotected sex. And their problems would catch up to them, pin them down and rip out their throats, their once imaginative thoughts silenced and the blood of hope thoroughly drained from their bodies. And you saw them on the streets, in council houses, on reality shows and their eyes were dead, dead, dead and nothing more.
Yet with no-one to guide them, they had to make their own hurried choices.
And Amelia, not wishing to go through this ordeal, not ready for the responsibilities that came with sex, not wanting sex, pushed with all of her years of experience and fear, pain and strength and sent Toris sprawling off of the bed. "H-hey! What the hell was that for, Amelia?! Hey!" The girl ignored him, hastily pulling up her underwear and shorts, picking up her shirt as she stormed her way out of the room, ripping off the hand that gripped onto her arm as she flung the door open with malice.
A few heads had turned up at the commotion, and many had laughed seeing the exchange student naked in the doorway, failing to get 'lucky' whilst the girl dashed down the stairwell, only just managing to hold back her tears. And when her friend on a couch spared her an inquisitive look, as if saying, 'What were you doing up there?' she ignored her, hating herself for sneaking out to the damned party with her in the first place as she slammed the front door behind her.
Making her way out into the still, humid night air, she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to conserve her limited body heat as a slight rain picked up. Running only on adrenaline, she pulled out her phone with shaking hands and called home, voice cracking through the sentences as she was unable to explain what had happened, what had nearly happened and could only sob out the location of the house.
Feeling the tears roll shamelessly down her cheeks, Amelia gripped the sides of her thin shirt tightly, waiting for the old black Saab from the 90's to pull up the the curb of the pavement soundlessly, shuddering breaths escaping her as she prayed she wouldn't be confronted with the Lithuanian again as she waited out the minutes, one by one by one. It was only when she was enveloped in the tight embrace of her father and sister that she truly let her composure go and openly wailed into their shoulders as soft fabric absorbed her tears.
She had escaped.