Lost In The Silence

Prolouge

"and when we speak we are afraid
our words will not be heard
nor welcomed
but when we are silent
we are still afraid
So it is better to speak
remembering
we were never meant to survive"
― Audre Lorde

I used to think that silence was my greatest torture, meant to drown me out and strip me of my voice. That the worst moments were in the silence, when I felt powerless and invisible. That nothing good could ever come from it. When I thought of the quietness, I thought of numbness, hopelessness. Of moments like an aftermath of a tragedy, when you can't hear anything and the world is nothing but pain. That silence was the worst punishment one could undergo, a torture slowly driving you insane.

I had to learn that it truly was nothing like this, silence enraptures the most beautiful of moments where nothing need be said. The tranquility and peace like the calm after a storm, or when the sun is just rising on the horizon while the world is asleep. Or driving in the middle of a warm summer night, windows down, wordless as you let a moment pass, knowing that this feeling would become nostalgic in the future. Knowing you're lucky to have even gotten to experience a moment as great as this.

After it happened, I couldn't help but think about what I did wrong. I wonder if it was something I did or said or wore that made me a target. I think about what made them choose me, how maybe if I did something differently, I wouldn't have been attacked.

It's funny isn't it? How society tells us that it's our fault for being raped.

Maybe if they weren't wearing this. Or maybe if they weren't acting flirty and leading him on. Maybe if they did this or that it wouldn't have happened.

Maybe.

When someone is raped, they're asked if they actually wanted it, if it was just sex that they regretted later, or if they're lying.

Nobody asks a robbery victim if they really wanted it or not. Nobody picks apart their story and brutally tears them down, calling them liars. Nobody questions what they were wearing that night, or if they wanted it.

For me, it felt like nobody was on my side. It felt like nobody believed me- and a lot of people either didn't believe me or chose to pretend it didn't happen- saying that I was lying about it all.

Me against the world. It's really almost comedic.

You hang around long enough, you start to see just how fucked up the world around you is.

How the system built to protect the public will fail you. How the people hired to help you will fail you time and time again. How the people around you who are supposed to support you will hurt you and drag you through the dirt.

And when nobody would hold them accountable, I was left alone with nobody to blame for what happened but myself.

When I think about that Tuesday, I find myself asking what I could have done differently. I shouldn't have been there, I know to be more careful. I shouldn't have been walking alone at night, I should have just studied at home instead of staying at the library until it closed at eight P.M.

I know better. I should have been more careful.

I was on campus, I thought I was safe. When I saw them, I didn't think that they would do anything.

I had just left the library at Kerlington University- where I was a sophomore student at- it was six minutes from the Athletic and Recreational facility.

There was a project for my history class due the next day and I waited to start the night before, not that it was unusual for me to procrastinate. I wish I could say that I'm a hard-working student who does all of my work efficiently, but I won't lie- I find myself putting off assignments until the very last minute more often than not.

I had been the last person to leave that night. While there were some students littered around campus, the grounds were relatively empty. I wish I had driven my car, despite my apartment being a relatively short walk from the school.

I had only been walking for a minute when I heard voices headed in my direction- Harrison Penn and Lance Howards. They had just come from the Athletic building when our paths crossed, I thought nothing of it when they made small talk with me or when I asked Lance Howards how the football team was shaping up this season.

They're relatively well-known around campus; Harrison Penn is the sports medicine physician and Lance Howards is one of the athletic trainers at Kerlington University so I didn't think I had any reason to be alarmed by two extremely trusted figures at Kerlington.

I wonder if they really were headed in the same direction as me like they said they were that night. Probably not.

I remember walking down the dimly lit street, hearing a small hum as the measly light from the lamppost blinked- dimming considerably before lighting up again- as if it would give out at any second and surrender into the same darkness I did that night.

I remember Howard's tight grip on my wrist as he pulled me into an alley on the side of a building, the way a large calloused hand covered my mouth as I was dragged until we were out of sight from the street and anyone who might be passing.

The way they took turns with me, going back and forth for multiple rounds. How they had tossed me around like a rag doll, one holding me while the other forced himself on me.

I'll never forget the inexplicable pain that chorused through my body as I felt like I was being torn apart. The way my entire body felt on fire as I collapsed in agony, unable to fight my tormentors off anymore, submitting myself.

That's when the last bit of hope inside me died. I realized that nobody was coming to help me, not then and not now. I was powerless against them, powerless against the tragedies that follow me.

Every sense of control that I had worked for in my life was stripped away from me along with the person I was. They took everything I had and then some.

I was no longer Valerie Ellings, I was just a girl defined by memories and haunted by the horrors of my past. Not that it ever feels like my past, because here I am, reliving every moment constantly in my head- a place I'll never have a chance to escape.

I had disassociated from my body that night, slipping away from reality and myself, only for the pain to bring me back down.

I remember the sounds of muffled whimpers that night and when my body went limp in exhaustion, I physically couldn't fight back anymore as they continued. How the hair from my ponytail was pulled so hard I thought it was ripped from my scalp.

After a while, I had been naïve enough to hope that maybe if I stopped struggling so much they wouldn't be as violent as they were, that maybe they would ease up a little. In the back of my mind I was begging for anything to lessen the torment, but they never did.

Through blurry eyes, I had tried to focus my gaze on anything but the scene in front of me. My eyes had stopped skimming my surroundings as I looked at the outdated lamppost I passed by earlier, watching as it flickered one last time before the light finally went out.

~

Hey!! I'm so excited for this book and Valerie's story, I couldn't resist posting the prologue. To anyone reading this, thank you so much for giving this story a chance- I hope I don't disappoint!!

Let me know what you think so far, anything is helpful!!!