[[swearing + rape references]]
"...I thought he was gonna propose, but then he pulled out a necklace instead, so I don't know how far this relationship's gonna go, to be honest."
I zone back in from my daydream and realise that my friend, Sunday, is still talking about her moron boyfriend. I decided a long time ago that I don't have any interest in anything other than my own problems - it's easier that way. Last time I worried about someone else, I... well, it didn't turn out well.
---
That night, in this same bar, in fact, there was a guy in the corner, drinking by himself. I'd been with friends, but I excused myself and went and sat next to him. "Hello," I said, getting comfortable in the chair. "I'm Alix. You looked lonely."
The man looked up. He had dark bags under his eyes and thick stubble around his chin, but something about him told me that he was safe enough. How wrong I had been.
"Thank you, Alix," he croaked in a raspy, rough voice. "I'm Grey. Can I buy you a drink?"
Of course, I accepted. Free drinks are always appreciated. "Thank you," I said as Grey stood and walked to the bar. He came back with two beers and placed one on a coaster in front of me.
"So, why are you here alone?" I asked, sipping the beer. The bitter, foamy tang rushed over my tongue, but it tasted a little more bitter than usual. I dismissed it as a new brand and kept drinking.
"Just fancied a drink, I suppose," Grey replied, watching me drink. We sat there, talking, for a few minutes, then I started to feel drowsy. I groggily stood and mumbled, "Sorry, Grey, but I think I'm getting a bit... drunk. I'm gonna go, it was nice meeting you."
"Oh, no, no," Grey exclaimed, catching my arm before I could tumble to the floor. "Let me drive you somewhere you can sleep it off."
He helped me into a car and started driving - I just rolled around in the passenger's seat, wondering what was going on. Within minutes, we arrived at a crappy-looking hotel. I couldn't tell you the name of it, or the time. Grey helped me out of the car and into the building, up some stairs and into a room. I flopped onto my stomach on the hard bed, and felt a hand trace my spine. Before I knew it, my dress was ripped, Grey was behind me and I was in so much pain.
There was blood - of course there was, it was my first time. In the morning, Grey was nowhere and I didn't know what had happened.
After many days of piecing things together, I realised that Grey - if that was even his name - had spiked my drink and raped me. I've never told a soul - not my parents, not my friends, not my sister. Nobody. They'd all think I was a slut - that I let him believe I deserved it, that I did deserve it. Maybe I did.
---
I zone back in yet again to someone calling my name. I blink at the fingers clicking in my face and mumble, "What-huh?"
My friend group laughs like a bunch of hyenas. Sunday, the woman who'd been clicking, laughed, "Honestly, Alix, do you ever listen to any of us anymore?"
I shrug, feeling my face go red, and watch my friends tsk and order more drinks. "Beers all around?" Sunday asks. "Oh, none for me, thanks," I call. She nods and goes to the bar to order.
As my friends start another conversation which I am not included in, I daydream across the busy bar. My eyes drift over the corner where "Grey" was sitting that night - and find someone familiar.
I find myself staring straight at the man who raped me three years before.
A cold sweat breaks out on my forehead and my back, and suddenly I'm shaky and weak. "Excuse me," I mutter to my friends, and stagger to the bathroom. Once in there, I shut myself in a cubicle and sit on the closed toilet seat, getting out my phone. My shaking fingers struggle to dial 000, but I manage somehow and press the phone to my ear. I wipe away tears as the operator picks up.
