Inside this cell

Way back when - chapter1

I remember back when I was 12, my mum always reinforced the point to always trust my instincts, to never be the sheep in the flock but to be the shepherd. I sit here wondering at what point in my life I forgot all of that advice she had drilled into me. What happened to the 12 year old girl with innocence, a false sense of safe and no insight to the real world. I had Unrealistic ambitions of running a top charity organisation, to be the head honcho at some huge law firm, like most kids my age my dreams were too big never really knowing the struggles it would take to reach those goals.
I think back to that girl, and I look at myself now, shit I'd settle for a stable waitress job with a shiny name tag I could wear with security and a steady pay at the end of each week if it meant I wasn't here.
My first job at 16 was organised by my mother during the summer break, god only knows what she had to do or who she had to do to get me that gig. I didn't want to work, I wanted to be with my friends and do what other 16 year olds were doing, and they weren't exactly working. Their days were spent lying on the beach, jumping from the rocks so high that there was no certainty of what lay beneath, laughing and listening to music while planning the next day to be an exact replica of the one just lived. I never realised how lucky they were at that time, I was only ever envious, envious they didn't have an overbearing parent who relentlessly planned and strategised their lives. I now see they were lucky to just have been able to be teenagers and act like the world was their oyster with no limits.
For me, my summer break, I enter the field of work. I am met by my new boss, he was a sleazy 40 year old man who has a wife and 3 kids at home, who wasn't scared to show me what my roles were in the office and always managed to add a grab or two in there. He would sit on his desk right in front of where I would be sitting in the chair just close enough that his leg didn't touch mine, but close enough that it felt sinister. A photo of him and his wife sits angled on his desk, to preserve the respectful devout husband image he clearly wanted to maintain. He must have picked his prey very selectively, for example, the front receptionist was an elderly lady, he only ever presented as a respectful leader to her, the lady in the office next to his as another example was entitled to the flirtatious side of his personality. I never felt I could say much, I was after all the new girl, 16, and had my mother in my ear about not fucking this up. She was always going on about how hard it was to get me this job, how good of an opportunity it was for me and where it could lead me. Really? Was she serious? It was a tax accountancy firm in the middle of recession! I had strong doubts about how many doors would open up for me from this once in a lifetime opportunity.
I remember one day in particular, vividly, the visions in my mind are like a broken record on repeat. Now my therapist says this was the beginning of my downward spiral, though I never looked at it like that.

It was the hottest day of January, the ceiling fans weren't bringing much relief to the humidity, and clothing stuck to your body like a second skin bound by a layer of sweat. I was in the lunch room on my break, eating the saddest version of a sandwich I had concocted that morning. I spent a lot of that day staring at the clock and counting the seconds, knowing when I was done I was able to leave this new hell in which I worked and join my friends on the beach and wash away the day. While trying to convince myself that my semi edible lunch was satisfying  my boss called me into the storage room, he wanted me to pull out files from 3 years prior and have them ready for an audit that needed to be done.
As I got on the step ladder to reach for the boxes upon boxes I had to get, I felt a cold hand rub my thigh, I froze without knowing what to do. His hand continued to go up and while standing so still I made it very easy for him to get to what he wanted.
At no point did I scream, yell, push him away, or kick and fight, I was numb, now I think back he obviously interpreted that as consent and that I enjoyed it. He continued to slowly creep his hand up my leg, and with his other hand try to unbutton my top. My mind is screaming yet no words come out, my arms are fighting, yet no movement comes from them. I manage to finally push him off me, and to gather myself enough to leave the room in a hurry, I don't know what I did or where I went from that point, I just know I got the fuck out of that room as quick as I could.
I walked past the other staff members, did they not see my expression? Did they not see that I looked like I had seen a ghost and that ghost completely violated me. A deer in headlights just doesn't come close to what I can imagine my face to have been. I rushed past them buttoning up my blouse, straightening my skirt, the looks and the grins were so obvious as though I had been up to mischief and chased it. In what world did we live that a 16 year old girl would rush out of a store room followed by a 40 year old man and assume their was a consentual  love affair. Absolute morons.

I must have walked the streets for hours waiting to meet my friends, I wanted to act as if everything was normal as if I was meeting them as planned after work, clearly I was in no right mind to be planning.
My  phone begins blowing up around 5:15pm when my mother calls relentlessly from the car park at work awaiting my dismissal, yeah I forgot about that one. How to explain that? I make up some shit like I got let off early, and apologise sincerely that I meant to text her and slip of the mind, I'll never do it again..
Blah blah blah... we both know I'll pay the price for it, but at this point it was the last thing on my mind.
As predicted my mother gave me the all rounder, the blast of anger with no cohesion of language, then the old silent treatment and dissapoinment lecture. She can take that and run as far as the road will allow her, because it was the furthest thing from my mind, pleasing her.

I lay on the warm rocks at the beach with my friends listening to the sounds of muffled laughter and splashing. The smell of the ocean and sunblock combined I feel like I could almost leave my own body temporarily and forget the day I had just endured. I want to morph into these rocks and become invisble, I want to become The Thing from comics i've grown up with, with super human strength, I could then lay on these rocks all day and I would'nt be noticed.
I make a conscious effort to make sure no one can sense any sort of disturbance in my behaviour, I don't want to arouse suspicions and be asked any questions. I wouldn't even know what to say. How to act. Would I burst into tears?, would I turn into hulk and just rage? Would I become so humiliated that someone had done this and that others now knew? It's best to let no one suspect a thing. I create an alter ego, she is fierce, yet subtle, happy and dismissive of any annoyances, not the the type of girl to be put in any serious situation and not come out the hero!
When the sun starts to fade, and settle for the day, I head to where I arranged to be picked up by my mother. The sinking feeling hits, and a weight unlike anything else I've ever known makes itself at home on my shoulders.