Spiral

lost

I don't know what it was- or where it was, but something inside me stopped caring. It's almost like a switch life decided to turn off but I have no memory of when it happened. Time just seemed to morph me into this reckless, careless person. Somewhere along the path of life, I got lost. I never found my way back. I just spiraled.

Maybe it was the fact that I got raped on my sixteenth birthday half a year ago. My family made a cake, like any other year. Mom got this new boyfriend she had been dating for a few years so he sat and ate the cake with us, as if he was part of the family. I believed he was. I welcomed Derek in with open arms and a smile. Mom seemed happy, and her being happy made me happy. She stopped smiling when my real dad died five years ago. It was a puzzle that was not hard to solve; if this white, petite looking guy made her happy, I was fucking happy.

I-was.

It was eleven at night and I kept the door cracked, like I always did. Mom came in every morning to wake me with showers of kisses and I left the door cracked as an invite. Routine.

My papers of all six periods were scattered across my bed. I was reading Shakespeare for english. I remember the assignment. I remember every detail, unfortunately. I remember the sound of the opened door- but it wasn't my mom, it was Derek. He stepped in and closed the door behind him silently cause god knows what would happen if he made more noise than need be.

"Up late?" he whispered.

"I can go to sleep, just let me finish this chapter. Test is in two weeks." I faded off, allowing my attention to drift onto the pages once more.

He invited himself a seat on my bed. He sat there for two minutes which felt like eternity. It was hard to focus on Romeo and Juliette when there was this presence that made the whole situation seem off. I finally looked up from the pages long enough for him to answer. "Did you need something?" I said.

"Yeah, I wanted to talk to you, Suzie." His hands slid across my thigh, his eyes hungry.

I was frozen with shock. I wanted to say something, but I couldn't. Fear was keeping my mouth shut.

Instead, I moved back. He moved closer. I moved further. He moved closer, but more quickly than before, more aggressive. I stood up only to get flipped over and pinned down on the bed. His filthy hands slid up my gown, tearing at my underwear. When he entered, it hurt. It hurt like hell. I focused on anything else but the pain. I tried turning my attention to my now wrinkled papers spewed across my sheets. That was just another thing he ruined. I tried to distract myself, but they all failed to numb me.

When I look back at this situation, I hate myself. I could have done something. I could have screamed. My mom could have saved me . Only I was convinced that she needed saving. So I kept quiet. Now, instead of a shower of kisses from mother that slipped into routine, there was a new one. He came in every night. I didn't say a word. My happiness could whither away as long as my mom's happiness grew.

Stupid, right? Well at the time,  I didn't think so. My mom had been so unhappy lately and all that mattered to me was to change that. Little did I know, me falling apart was the very thing that would break her.