The After Party

Aftermath

     I lay here in this same position after he leaves. I am afraid to move. He threatened me to stay here for a while until he was gone anyway, but it doesn't make a difference. I don't think I know how to get up right now.

Since I lost track of time I'm not certain how long I have been laying here. I do feel lost from reality in these moments. Although I know why I am laying in the foyer of my house half unclothed I don't dare to consciously think of all that brought me here. A part of me wants to get in the shower to wash the filth off of me. The biggest part of me feels like I just became a sac of skin and filth. I feel as if I would contaminate everything around me if I were to move. I would contaminate the water in the shower because I am so disgusting right now.

I can hear the sound of a car passing by and although I know it's not my family it makes me think they will be home at some point. I want to be out of here and into my room. The thought of anyone knowing about this makes me feel lower than I do now, and here I was thinking I didn't have lower to fall.

As I stand I see blood. I wearily shake my head at how brutal it all was. I can barely see what is right in front of me because flashes of what just occurred keep playing in front of me like a bad movie trailer. I grab a grocery store bag from the kitchen and head to my room upstairs. Once I am in my room I find long socks, a long sleeve sweat shirt and sweat pants. I take everything to the bathroom, lock the door and start the shower. I am in so much pain. I am unable to tell whether it is all physical or where it is coming from because I am so disoriented by the whole situation. I am afraid to take my clothes off, because oddly enough I feel safer with them on.

I put the ones I am wearing now in the plastic grocery bag, shoes included. I want as few reminders as I can get from this. I can't look at myself in the mirror right now because of this shame that has rooted itself within me. I hold my breath and get in the shower. I want to cry more as the flow of water crashes against my skin. It feels like a release and it makes me feel like I am shedding some thick top layer of rot. Unfortunately, there are many more layers that will grow back in its place. At least now I will know of a way to shed them.

Still losing track of time I get out of the shower after what could be half an hour or simply a few minutes. Usually I would wipe off the fogged up mirror to see myself as I dry off. Today I would rather it stay fogged permanently. I lower my head when I turn to face it because I don't want to take any chances. I want to throw the bag of clothes away outside, but I decide that it is best if I wait until I have to go back outside and hide them for now. I want to get on the side of my bed that is closest to the wall and just disappear into it.

I put my bag of clothes in a corner of my closet behind long dresses and pants that will hide it. I hope the whole out of sight out of mind thing is true. After checking that the room door is locked I get into my bed and bury myself deeply under the covers. Letting the tears flow I think of the image that was in my head while it all happened. I hope that is all I see as a dream.

Mom says it's time for dinner Kayla. I hear Harrison, my little brother, say through the locked door.

I groggily try to reach for my phone as I reply. Okay Buddy.

My phone is still in my back pack. I struggle with deciding if I am ready to get out of bed to get it. Instead it seems that the lazy way would me most comfortable right now. I see that I have a few text messages.

From: Iyana

Why aren't you on skype love?

Are you okay? I have a weird feeling.

From: Nolan

Guess who I talked to about you? Chaz. Hit me back so I can give you dets boo.

None of it seems to matter. I crawl out of bed and lowly say it aloud to myself and my lifeless room. Why does nothing matter? It was one incident. I call what happened to me 'it'. I suppose there is no proper name for this sort of thing and the shock of it all. Finally I'm getting out of the bed that seems to be nothing less than my savior right now.

Walking hurts a little. I still cannot help but wonder if some of that pain is due to me not being too mentally there. I also have a wicked headache. I hope the bastard didn't hit me too hard. I would check the mirror to see if I look presentable or show any signs of what happened, but I won't. I would rather risk it.

At the table everything is already set and the food is out. I don't care what were having tonight I just robotically make sure to get a taste of everything on my plate.

Son, did anything interesting happen at school today? My dad ask Harrison.

Pretty good dad. I'm getting better at my times tables. He responds happily.

Honey tell Harrison about how your co-workers bragged about his fundraising skills. My dad never seems to include me in anything. For once I am more grateful for that than I ever knew I could be.

My mom goes on about her day. No one even notices that I am merely moving my fork around my plate without actually eating anything.

May I be excused? I ask as dinner or the lack thereof in my case winds down.

I'm glad you enjoyed dinner Kayla. My mom says to me.

Well as obvious as it is that no one cares I put my plate in the sink and go back upstairs. Without a look back or even a second thought I lock my door and sit down on my bed with my backpack. I would usually do homework at my desk but this time my bed seems like it would protect me more. As silly as it is I let any feelings of comfort it could possibly give me engulf me anyway. I try to get some homework done, but it proves to be a very hard thing to do when the only thoughts that run through my mind are about the monster that played a crude game of cat and mouse.

Studying or doing even the more mindless of homework assignments both seem to be on a long list of things my mind is too preoccupied to do. Texting Iyana may prove to be helpful. Hopefully she's gotten into enough trouble to entertain me and help turn my focus to something else.

Send To: Iyana

Sorry about Skype. What's up with you?

From: Iyana:

You ignored the part where I asked if ur ok!! Spill it bitch!

Send To: Iyana

I'm good. Just the usual stuff with my dad acting like I don't exist. Just want to get my mind off of it. So what's up?

From Iyana:

Dude don't stress the drama with the 'rents. Just let it ride. I'm on a mission to out slut Nolan. I met a producer that I'm gonna bag. Later babe.

I don't think I want to know more than I already do. I'm angry and jealous that my two closest friends are so sexually free and do as they please and that I feel bound by what someone forced upon me.

Frustrated, I kick everything off of my bed. I leave my closet light on and don't even care to set my alarm for the morning. I can't call it that for letter word that it is. I feel the tears and pain in my face come when I think about what happened. I mostly succeed to block out his face. Although I wonder if he is someone I will see again. I don't think I would want to know even if I did come across him once more. I lay down with these nightmarish thoughts chasing their own tails.

I am afraid to let it, but sleepiness takes over. I can only wonder why he didn't kill me. This seems a fate worse than death. A weaker part of me wishes he would have killed me.