Consequences

Kinda slutty

Chapter 18.

Scott POV

"I was raped".

I really wished I hadn't looked up at that exact moment, because when I did I saw my boyfriend's face go from concerned, to confused and last but not least to anger and I hated that I was the one causing it. The words were out before I knew it. If it were up to me I would've never said it out loud. Because admitting it, that's what makes it real. And that thought terrified me more than anything.

But I knew I had to. Justin has been nothing but patient and understanding towards me, so it would be an awful thing to keep this from him. He's my boyfriend. He deserves to know the truth. Even if it's anything but pretty...

Because the truth is, in this story I'm the victim. A victim of fucking rape! Never in a million years did I picture my myself to end up like this.

Sure, in High school I've slept around with a bunch guys. They were all older than me. But in almost every case I was the more dominant one. Back then age didn't matter, because simply non of them could handle me. Most guys allowed me walk all over them, basically to much of a chicken to do anything. Though the only request they always had was for me to keep it a secret, because they either were embarrassed of me or because in most cases they weren't even out yet. So that's basically why back then most of my hook ups ended up in nothing. I didn't care much about it though. At some point I would grow tired of the sneaking around stuff and just move on to the next guy I could find. Sounds kinda slutty now that I think about it, but I guess that was my way of living.

Thing is, I used to really enjoy sex. Not to sound arrogant or anything but I like to believe I was quite good at it too. Being called beautiful or sexy. Being able to make someone completely lose it. I liked the power to turn the most toughest guys into screaming little girls. The more masculine the better. I don't know... I guess it gave me some sort of confidence. Something I was secretly lacking most of the time.

Because you see, the good grades, the football scholarship, the perfect smile, it was all fake. I was far from perfect. Though people always seem to assume I was. They didn't see the real me. Because if they did, they definitely wouldn't like it. Because why would you like a person when they don't even like themselves?

After the thing with Mackey happened I had again convinced myself that it was all my fault. That I was the one leading him on by talking to him. That I had provoked him somehow. That if I hadn't been such a flirt he wouldn't even have noticed me.

Being mad at myself was my way of still being in control of the whole situation, how crazy that might sound. This unhealthy coping mechanism I had build up for myself had somehow caused me to ignore the real thing that was going on. All I had been focusing on was anger, instead of getting over my trauma. Which is obviously the biggest part of it all.

But I was blind for it. I didn't have room for any other emotions so I simply allowed my mind to push them all away. And miraculously, it worked. But only for a little while. After talking to Winston I've come to a realization that it never has been my fault in the first place. I didn't deserve this. Just like no one deserves to go through the thing I've been through. I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. Just some dumb old bad luck is what you would call it.

But once I've started to realize that, that's when shit got really dark. As a waterfall the real emotions came crashing down on me all at once. Fear, every time I let my mind drift back to that particular moment. The sadness I felt, every time I woke up in the middle of the night, sweating and in tears because I had yet experienced another nightmare. Incomprehension, because of the insanity of the whole situation. Disgust, every time I had to look at myself in the mirror. And last but not least, a whole lot of self loath, because even though it wasn't my fault I still couldn't forgive myself for letting this 'thing' happen to me.