Girl (completed)

5

"Blaire?" I heard George call. It had been a full day since me and John had spoken, and things were at a stand-still.
"Come in!" I yelled, and I set my book down on my bed. When he came in, he looked a bit distressed, and it worried me.
"What's wrong?" I asked, and he looked like he had seen a ghost. He sat on my bed stiffly, but didn't say anything, "Georgie?" I said, trying to lighten the mood.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, and I felt my heart drop. I knew immediately what John had told him, but I decided to play dumb.
"Tell you what?" I asked, and he looked at me.
"Don't play stupid, Blaire. At John's party, you didn't tell me..." he trailed off, and I looked away, at the posters on my wall just to fixate my gaze anywhere but at him.
"George..." I started, and he looked at me in an utter state of shock.
"We have to tell someone! Mom and dad, let's tell them," he proposed, and I sighed, remembering the moments leading up to when I left.
"George, no," I said, and he furrowed his eyebrows at me.
"Blaire! We have to..." he insisted, and I looked him straight in the eye to make my point clear.
"George, they already know!" I shouted, and he flinched at the abrupt shouts.
"No, they don't. They would have done something," he protested, and I walked over to him and sat next to him, stroking his hair to calm him down.
"George, they did do something; they sent me away," I said clearly, and he seemed to be in even more disbelief. I had already let it all sink in over the course of a year, but this was all a big shock to George.
   "No, they wouldn't have. They couldn't have!" He insisted again, and I ran my hands through his hair once more.
   "George, please. If you care about me, I'm just begging you to let it go. I just want to move on," I pleaded, and flashbacks of that night kept coming back to me.
  "Can you tell me the story?" He asked, and I gulped and nodded.
  "Well, we were at the party and I found you in bed with her," I started, not saying her name. A look of guilt flashed across his face and I continued, "and I went downstairs all upset, and Jeremy took me upstairs, and things got heated..." I trailed off, and George nodded for me to continue.
"Well when I told him no, he couldn't take that as an answer. He just- he made me, and the damn music was so loud that no one heard my screams.
My mind flashed back to that terrible night, and I began to hyperventilate a bit, my heartbeat irregular.
"Jeremy, I don't want to do this," I said, and he looked at me with anger and lust.
"Come on, baby. Relax, it's not that big a deal," he insisted, and he pushed himself on me, holding me to the bed and kissing me roughly. I could taste the alcohol on his breath as he roughly shoved his tongue into my mouth. I tried to push him off, but his strength dominated mine, and he pushed me even harder on the bed.
   He then forcefully tore off my shirt,  ogling at my chest, before taking my pants off too. I began to get really scared, because I knew he wasn't going to quit until he had what he wanted, and I had no way to stop him.
   He began to violate me, and I could feel myself silently shedding tears. He got rough, and left many bruises. All I felt was pin the entire time he used me, and when he was done, he just left.
   He left me lying on the bed, taking in what had just happened. I had been violated, dominated, used, and thrown away like trash.
   Suddenly the door opened, and I cowered, thinking maybe he had come back for more. John walked in laughing with some random girl, and both of their eyes widened at the sight of me.
   "Blaire?" He asked, and I just whimpered in response, feeling the waves of pain course through my body. The girl left, and he shut the door and rushed towards me.
   He inspected my body, and that only made me feel worse. I felt like I was on display for anyone who wanted a look, but I couldn't cover myself. I could barely move.
   "Blaire, what happened?" He asked, and I looked down at myself. I looked awfully pathetic.
   "Jeremy," was all that I could say, and he instantly put it together in his mind. He walked towards a drawer, and grabbed a shirt, and threw it to me. He was obviously livid and concerned, but he didn't say anything for fear of shaking me up even more.
   I struggled to put it on, and in the end, he had to help me get it over my battered body. He lifted me onto my feet, and I saw the blood on the sheets.
   "I'm sorry," I said hoarsely, and he looked at the blood for a moment before covering it up, hiding it from my eyes, but the sight would be burned into my brain forever.
   "Please, don't apologize," he begged, and I complied, deciding to remain silent and not speak at all.
  "Come on, love. I'm going to bring you home, and then beat the living shit out of Jeremy," he said, and I shivered as we stepped out into the night. I didn't have anything covering my bottom because the shirt was long, and it hurt to even have clothes on, so the harsh wind nipped at my bare legs.
   "No, please don't. Don't do anything, you'll just make it worse," I pleaded hoarsely, and he breathed sharply, walking steadily as I limped along side him, holding onto his arm for support.
   "Blaire..." he said, and I sighed, wincing and closing my eyes from the shooting pain that coursed through my muscles every time I took a step forward.
   "We'll talk about it later," I promised, and he brought me home to be greeted by my concerned parents.
   "Goodbye John, thank you so much," I whispered, and he kissed my temple, making me recoil a bit from his touch.
   "Blaire, what happened?" My father demanded as soon as John shut the door, and I sat down in a kitchen chair, biting my lip to keep my scream from escaping my lips.
   "Jeremy, he was drunk, and he forced me to..." I trailed off, and he looked at me in anger, while my mother looked at me in sympathy.
   "I can't believe this! You are impure! You are no daughter of mine!" My father's booming voice bellowed, and I closed my eyes and imagined I was far, far away.
  "Harold! This wasn't her fault!" My mother argued, and he raised his hand to her, making her recoil.
   "No, Louise! No daughter of mine is going to be a whore!" He yelled, and I tried to go to my happy place, sitting with John on the porch step.
  I quickly ran upstairs as they were fighting, and I locked the door. I was praying that my mom would help me, but I knew she would have to give in, and I didn't blame her. When he was angry, he could have a nasty temper. We'd all seen that side of him.
   I feel asleep wrapped in John's shirt, taking in his scent. When I awoke, my things were already packed and I was shipped to my Aunt's.
   "Blaire?" George's voice sliced through my thoughts, and my attention snapped back to the present.
    "Yes?" I asked, and he looked at me for me to continue, and I told him the entire story.
    "That's it?" He asked, and I nodded. He embraced me, and I could feel his heart beating rather quickly.
   "I'm so sorry," he whispered, and I felt a certain safety in his arms, but also a certain feeling of misplacement. I don't know if I can ever let another man hold me.
   "It's okay, Geo. I've long gotten over it," I said, lying through my teeth.
   "That's not a thing you should have to get over. That's horrible," he said, and I nodded, exhaling deeply.
   "Well that's life, George. Some things are terrible. There are monsters in the world. It's cruel, and harsh, but that's life," I said, and he stroked my hair, breathing deeply with me.
   "It's so unfair, you were so young," he thought out loud, and I looked up at him.
  "I was naive, George, but now I've learned," I said, and he just held me tighter.
  "I should've done something," he reasoned, and I scoffed.
  "No one could've done anything, Geo. It wasn't anyone's fault," I said, and I could tell he was fuming.
  "If I wouldn't have slept with Savanna, maybe you wouldn't have gone downstairs," he argued, and I rolled my eyes.
   "George, there is no point in playing the 'what-if game.' Trust me, I've played it for the last year. What if I didn't go to the party? What if I hadn't looked for you? What if I didn't go upstairs with him?" I broke down and began to sob at this point, but I didn't stop, "what if I had been stronger? What if I had fought harder?" I said, and he gushed me calmingly.
   "Shhh, it's okay. You're with me now," he said, and I cried into his chest. It felt nice to let it out, but I also felt a bit pathetic.
   "What happened, happened, George. And nothing is going to change that, okay?" I said, and he nodded.
   "I just wish you would have told me," he said, and I inhaled deeply.
   "Looking back, I wish I would have too, but I was just too weak at the time. I'm really sorry, George," I apologized, and he shushed me again.
   "Shh, please don't apologize," he said, and my mind raced back to John telling me the same thing just a year ago. That memory felt so small now, so distant. I looked back with gratitude towards john for helping me in my hour of need. He would always have a special place in my heart for doing that.
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I hope this was okay? I tried my best. ALSO THIS IS THE LONGEST CHAPTER I HAVE EVER WRITTEN SO YAY ME?!