WARNING: The rape will be heavily mentioned in this chapter; nothing too graphic will be included. If this is hard or upsetting for anyone please don't read.
Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews, comments, votes, and more! I'm so glad you all liked the first chapter! Heads up, I'm not sure how long this story will be (hopefully, an all summer thing.), but it will definitely be a SLOW-BURN.
*And please, DON'T STEAL MY WORK. (Sorry, had to put that. I had a bad problem with that in the past.)
Song (On Wattpad): Til it Happens To You by Lady Gaga
Chapter Two: It happened. Now What?
"It's decidedly bizarre, when the Worst Thing happens and you find yourself still conscious, still breathing."
― Elisa Albert, The Book of Dahlia
Sylvie laid on the floor, in that exact spot, for hours. She didn't know what to do. In fact, she was too afraid to do anything. What if he came back? What if he came to kill her? But, What now? Was she just supposed to spend the rest of her life on the floor waiting for him to come back and finish the job?
She was startled from her trepidus thoughts by her phone that dinged across the floor signaling a new text.
Sylvie lifted her head and gazed at her phone. The screen had a big crack down the middle with little chunks of glass missing. She studied the phone for a few seconds and quickly came to the conclusion that her phone looked like her. It was broken, cracked, and would never be the same. It was ruined, just like her life.
Tears, which had been falling since it happened, continued to fall and stain her face. She laid her head back and closed her eyes praying that all this was a dream and that she would wake up from it any moment. But it wasn't. It was real life. Good or bad, it was real.
When Sylvie opened her eyes something snapped. She quickly sat up, despite the surge of pain that ran through her body, and used her arms and knees to cover her nakedness.
She was completely bare; her dress and underwear lay next to her torn in a pile that smelled of nothing but him. She wanted to puke as soon as her senses started to function again.
"I have to get up." She whispered to herself in the darkness of the room as she continued to hold her body and hide it from no one in the room except herself.
"I have to get up. I have to get up." She rocked back and forth just repeating that over and over again until she unwrapped her arms from her knees and crawled over to the door so she could close it. After she was sure that it was closed she put her hands on her knees and stood up.
They only had a bottom lock on the door, so Sylvie locked it and double-checked that it was locked and secure before she walked away from it. She limped to the shared bathroom and slowly closed the door so that she could lock it.
The mirror screamed at her as she looked into it. Mascara painted her face along with the tomato shaded red marks that covered almost every inch of her body. The side of her forehead had a small gash in it from when he slammed her head down on the floor. Her ankle was twisted and throbbing in pain from being pushed to the ground with her wedges on. She suspected that she may have a dislocated rib from the way he slammed her and held her down. She also had a split lip, that has done nothing but bleed from the moment it happened, and a black eye she thinks happened when she was passed out.
She walked over and turned the shower onto the highest temperature it had. The second she felt the water hit her back she cried out and fell to the floor. Everything the water hit hurt; It trickled down her bruised and beaten body and kissed every mark it touched. She cried, screamed, and cried some more on the floor of the shower.
Why did this have to happen to her?... What did she do wrong?... Did she lead him on?... Was her dress inappropriate?... Did she say the wrong thing or look at him the wrong way?... Was this her fault?... Why?... Why her?
Those are the thoughts that Sylvie had as she laid in the shower and cradled herself like a baby.
She ended up staying on the floor of the shower for almost forty-five minutes. After that, she got up, grabbed her sponge and liquid body wash, and started scrubbing her body as vigorously as she could. She wanted every trace of him gone from her, so she scrubbed, scrubbed, and scrubbed again. Her skin was bright red and burning by the time she went through her full bottle of Sweet Lavender Honey body wash.
Sylvie spent about an hour and a half in the shower. The water had eventually turned cold, but her body was still in so much shock that she couldn't tell if it was steaming hot or ice cold.
As soon as she got out of the shower, she grabbed her fluffy, white robe and wrapped it around her body like she was wrapping a precious gift that had no recipient.
She slowly turned to the bathroom door and unlocked it. What if he came back?...What if he was waiting out there for her?...NO! Sylvie shook her head and decided that she wasn't going to be afraid to walk out of the bathroom in her own apartment. He may have stolen a lot of things from her tonight, but this was not going to be one of them. She was a strong girl. She wasn't a victim. She wasn't going to be afraid to walk around her own home. This was her home, not his.
She cautiously wrapped her hand around the cold, brass door handle and gave it a turn. The door let out a big creak as she opened it, which made her jump and want to slam it immediately, but she didn't. She opened the door the whole way, gave a quick look around the room to make sure that she was, in fact, the only one there, then she bolted it, as fast as she could limping, to the main door and double-checked that it was locked before she slowly made her way to her own room where she closed that door and locked it as well.
Sylvie heaved in and out after she locked her door. What was she doing? She just said that she wasn't a victim and wasn't going to be afraid in her own home, but now she was locking every door she could...How was she going to live like this for the rest of her life?... Was she going to be looking over her shoulder every minute of every day?... Was this the new normal for her?
Sylvie limped over to her bed, sat down, and gasped as she thought about her job. What was she going to do there? She couldn't tell them what happened because she would be required to take time off and go to counseling. Both of which Sylvie did not want to do. How could she tell them, her family, what had happened to her?... It was embarrassing...What would they think about her?
Sylvie shook her head and started slightly hyperventilating. What would Matt think about her? What if he wanted nothing to do with her? It was all starting to look so good for them and now this. What now? Now he won't want anything to do with her.
Sylvie's whole body shook as more tears came to the surface and slid their way down her beautiful bruised and battered face. She eventually limped to her dresser and took off her robe so she could put on a big long sleeve CFD shirt, that used to belong to Otis, and a pair of old grey baggy sweatpants. She decided to keep her hair down so it could air dry and most importantly hide the loud forming bruises on her soft, pale skin.
She cautiously walked to her bedroom door and unlocked it where she peeked her head out of the doorway like a sniper looking for its next target before she stepped into the hallway. Before she could do or think of anything else, she quickly threw her eyes over to the front door making sure that it was in fact locked. And, once she confirmed that necessity of security, her eyes fell to the floor. The floor where it all happened. Where he raped her.
"I need to clean," Whispered Sylvie before she walked over to her pile of clothes, picked them up, and immediately limped them over to her hamper beside her bedroom door. She then turned and saw all of the contents that were in her purse strewn all over the room, so she quickly began gathering all of them up and taking them in her room.
Once she returned to the living room she took a look around and decided that a deep clean was in order for the whole apartment. Although, it was one in the morning, her brain was nowhere near tired, so she cleaned. She cleaned almost every square inch of their apartment, except for Joe and Emily's rooms of course. She cleaned so hard it almost made her forget the excruciating pain she was in.
By the time she put the vacuum back in its designated spot, the sun was just starting to grace the earth with its presence. She took one look around the room and decided that she would try to lay down for a while. So after she was in her room and had made sure that both the main door and her bedroom door were locked and secure, she fell to the floor and put her back to the door. Her head fell against the door as she clutched her knees to her chest.
The only thing that could be heard in this morose, dark room was Sylvie's random sniffle or protest in pain if she moved. Everything except that was completely silent and dead around her. Like her.
Sylvie's eyes were closed as she laid her head back. Everything from the night before was on full replay in her mind; from the moment she opened the door to waking up on the cold, hard floor naked.
Her heinous thoughts were soon interrupted by a loud banging at the front door. Sylvie immediately froze at hearing the noise. Was it him?... Was he back?... Did he want her?
Her heart started to race and thump at a pace that it had never done before. Sweat started to pool and gather on her palms and forehead, while her body started shaking and shivering. It was him...Wasn't it?... He was coming back for her.
"Damn it!." Yelled a voice as soon as the front door swung open and hit the table sitting beside it.
Sylvie gasped and covered her mouth with her trembling hand.
"Sorry, B! I was trying to be quiet." Called Emily Foster as she shut the door and tiptoed to her awaiting bedroom where she planned to sleep the whole day away.
Hot, salty tears crawled their way down Sylvie's blue and purple face. This was her new normal.
She jumped when she heard her broken phone buzz on her bed. It was an incoming text from Matt.
'Hey, good morning. Hope you had a good night last night. I sent a couple of texts late making sure that you got in okay. I figured you were out late or were asleep, unlike me who had to listen to Kelly and Stella all night. Anyways, maybe we can grab a drink later tonight at Molly's.' xMatt
Sylvie didn't have the energy to move to her phone on the bed so she stayed there on the floor with her back to the door for the rest of the day.
What did you think!? Again, sorry for any typos, misspellings, or anything like that. I write late at night with no glasses on, lol.
Thanks again for reading and the support!
*Heads up, updates may only come once a week. Not too sure yet.
Stay safe and healthy!
