Flame

Chapter Six

     Davina's phone was blowing up with messages, every few minutes there'd be the usual text ding. The sound was so constant, she turned off the sound but still was haunted by the repeating buzzes. By then, she decided to just shut the device down. She didn't bother to scroll through the messages, knowing who they were from and what they were about. Because if she answered them, she'd have to talk about it again after she already had so many times.

She remembered repeating the story over and over again as if she were a tape being consistently winded back. When she reached the end, she'd have to go back straight to the beginning.

"So, what happened after he locked the door?" Davina had forgotten the detective's name, not believing she would need to have a reason to secure it. His face, however, she could pick out in a line up even though she only looked at it once throughout the entire interview. His crooked and wide nose, chapped lips that seemed to flak more and more when a chilly breeze swam through the interrogation room, and his rather high-pitched voice made her ears ring.

"He put my makeup kit on the floor and sat down next to me."

"Then what?"

"He asked me to go out with him and I lied and told him I was gay."

"Why did you lie to him?"

"Because I was scared that if I told him no without a reason, he'd get angry with me."

"Why did you get the feeling he would get angry?"

"I knew he liked me. He always stared at me and tried to get me to hang out with him alone but he gave me a weird...feeling so I always made up an excuse not to be near him."

"Okay," he muttered, scribbling something down in a small notebook, "what did he do when you told him you were gay?"

Davina sat in the safety of her home the next day, curled up on the couch in the living room. Her favorite movie played on the large television. Instead, she was listening to the noise of her mother rummaging through the cabinet full of pots and pans. Usually, the collision of the metals made Davina's fists ball up in annoyance and the urge to yell at her mother would jump on the tip of her tongue. Exhaustion kissed her eyelids to the sound now, her vision becoming blurry.

She arrived home very early that morning and the moment she stepped inside, built up agony stole the little energy she had left. Her body collapsed on the cold couch, plummeting into a deep slumber and didn't wake up till the sun was at its peak. If she slept that long on any other day, she would've resented herself for wasting half of her day. However, she knew she deserved the long-awaited rest which is why her parents didn't try to wake her.

The mental and physical stress she had gone through that night completely drained her which resulted in her drifting in and out of consciousness throughout the day. Whenever she managed to stay awake for a certain period of time, her brain drifted to situations that made her stomach churn.

What if Finn found out I reported him? He told me if I told anyone, he'd kill me. What if he's on his way right now?

What if Finn somehow convinced the police to think I lied? People get charged for lying about rape, even the ones who didn't.

What if nothing happens? What if Finn gets off scot-free?

"You know," her mother spoke as she sat next to Davina on the couch, forcing her from her doubtful thoughts, "your Aunt Fiona took me to my first high school party when I was fourteen."

"Really?" Davina chuckled, rubbing the heavy sleep from her eyes.

"Yep," she replied, popping the 'p', "it was the summer before I went into high school. I was so excited when she told me; I spent the whole day trying to decide what to wear and tried to think of cool things to say. I wanted to invite my friends but Fiona said I couldn't, that I needed to branch out. They were so jealous. I remember one of my friends, Jennie, got so mad that she refused to speak to me for three weeks."