When I woke up again, I was staring at a blaring light that made me wish I was unconscious again. Why was I unconscious in the first place? I looked around a little too quickly, tensing up. The room was small with nothing much in it but some equipment, papers and some art on the walls. It occurred to me that I was in the nurse's office. For a second I thought that I have been abducted by aliens—though being abducted would probably have been better than being raped. At least then I wouldn't have been embarrassed like I was.
The door creaked open and the nurse stepped inside. She smiled when she saw me. "You're up," she said. "How do you feel?"
"Fine. How… How long was I out?"
"Not that long, don't worry."
She sat down in a chair, picking up a clipboard and pen. "Can I ask you why you think you've passed out?"
I racked my brain, for why I was here and bit my lip when remembered. "I-I…" I stumbled to come up with an excuse, slightly trembling. "I'm too stressed with homework and haven't been sleeping much." If the excuse was believable, it would have been given away by how fast it all rambled out.
She raised an eyebrow and flipped through her pages. "Really? It says here that you were absent from school for about a week. You can tell me, I'm here to help you. Is your family hurting you?"
"No! They don't touch me."
The nurse stared at me, eyes unwavering. I fidgeted under her stare. "Fine. I'm going to call for an ambulance to pick you up and make sure everything's fine for sure."
"No! I'm fine, really. I was just tired." I slipped off from the bed, ignored the dizziness, grabbed my backpack and started to head out. The nurse called out to me but I ignored her and walked down the empty hallways. School was still in session and I couldn't go back home. I looked at the nearest clock on the wall before reluctantly heading to the class I was supposed to be in. My heart thumped against my chest at the speed of light, fingers tapping my leg almost impatiently. Through the slim window, I watched as more attention was turned to me and knew that there was no turning back now. I opened the door, every head now turned to me. I swallowed the lump in my throat and walked to the teacher and told him where I was. He waved me off without question and I sat in my spot.
The teacher continued with his lesson. I didn't pay attention though.
About halfway in, something hit my head and bounced on the floor near me. I peaked at whatever was there and sighed at the rolled up paper. I scooped it from the ground. I knew that I shouldn't have opened it up but curiosity ate me up. I unraveled the page and read, 'Greaser'. It was really nothing to worry about it—I get these thrown at me all the time, all the same, like being a greaser was an insult. But this one was different. I watched the letters on the page spin and move, some dropping off the page and some turning into other letters. They formed new words that I was too familiar with—slut, dirty, disgusting, violation. I crumpled to paper up, hitting it off my table. Questions rose up to my head and I panicked. Someone else knew what had happened to me? I could hear snickers from behind me. I could see all of their faces morph to his before turning back to their original state but all of them were looking at me with his eyes. I stared holes in my hands until the bell rung. I hurried out the room before the others to get away.
I was walking towards my next class, dreading what's to come. People pushed by me and slowly moved me to the side of the hallway. I slid across the lockers, walking slowly.
A hand grabbed me when I was passing by the janitor's closet. All light was gone in a flash. Hot breath was brushing against my face, my arms were pinned above my head and a knee pressed against my crotch. "There you are…"
My body was shaking badly. It was him and this one was real. I struggled against his hold, mouth opening to scream but he slapped me.
"Remember what I told you? Sluts don't speak." I could feel his lips near my ear and shivered. His fingers dug into my wrists as he shifted to be near my mouth. "Let's have a little fun." He pressed his lips on mine—I tried to turn away but he leaned in so that my head was pinned to the wall. When I felt his tongue rubbing against my lips I lost it. All of my fear burst free and I moved a leg to prop my foot up on his torso and pushed him. Tears stung my eyes as he let go of me and staggered back. He grabbed onto something causing things to fall. I could hear him scramble up to his feet and I lashed out with my elbow, hearing him gasp for air, then punching whatever was there. My fist collided with something hard but I knew it wasn't that good of a hit.
He grabbed onto me, flinging me to the ground. He pinned me and I struggled in his grasp. "Let go!" I screamed. I managed to fling him off but he kicked me in my gut seconds later. I curled in as he kept kicking me over and over again. Each kick felt like my body was going to explode. I gasped at one kick that was stronger than the rest, and coughed up something warm—probably blood. Finally he got bored and pinned me again. His hands roamed my body. His kissed my neck and sucked at it. I closed my eyes, sobbing and whimpering. My hands reached back, groping for something. The first item I managed to wrap my hands around was wet and heavy. Before I could process what it could have been, I flung it at him and the next thing I heard was a bloodcurdling scream.
Whatever I threw spilled on me and my nose wrinkled up in disgust. Bleach. He got off of me and I scrambled away. I only cared about getting away and getting through the door. That's why I didn't care when I saw his hands covering his face or soaking body or the blood that seeped through the edges of his hands or his finger or the red foam or the slight smell of burning, and that scared me.
I ran away from the scene, body a mess like I had just been through a tornado. People were starting to gather at the scene, ignoring me. I hurried to the bathroom and immediately threw up in a toilet, trying to get the mixture of his musk and bleach out of my nose.
I leaned back against the stall door, rubbing the bleach off of my skin which we starting to itch and burn.
His touch still felt fresh on my skin. I looked at my wrist, seeing his hand print. My vision blurred with tears and I quickly stood up, shakily going to the sink. My hands gripped the edges. I couldn't bring myself to look in the mirror. I kept staring at the bruises on my wrists. I felt anger and disgust staring at it and I wanted it gone. Without a thought I reached in my backpack, fishing for something. Finally my hands wrapped around my switch-blade that Two-Bit stole for me. I looked back-and-forth between the switch-blade and my wrists. I knew that this wasn't the way to answer this but whenever I stared at my wrists it filled me with sad rage.
I flicked the blade out and held it to my wrist. With a staggered breath I peeled my skin like you would an apple. It hurt but not as much as I was already—in fact, it replaced my old pain which I was grateful for. My blood pooled in the sink. I felt myself getting dizzier but I didn't stop until both of the handprints were gone. I wrapped my wrists up in layers of paper towels—which I would have to replace later.
I felt satisfied in the end, like I have done something right for once. I didn't feel his touch on me. It felt like he would never hurt me again and just like when I walked away from the conundrum in the janitor's closet, I felt scared.
o-o-o
Replies:
Pony'sgirlfriend: You made me blush ./. Ponyboy will only go downhill from here.
One-Tuff-Cookie723: Thank you. ^^ What did you think of this chapter?
FrankElza: I'm blushing so hard now. I don't this chapter had as much of inner feelings in it though. I don't know, what do you think?
White collar black wolf: Thanks and thanks for your review.