Scared of the Dark | ✔️

"Natalia Diaz," the principal sighed. "Your accusations are hideous, could this even be true?"

She zoned out at the stupid question. Why would she ever lie about something like this? Thinking back at the moment it happened, her legs squeezed tightly together with a slight flinch.

Principle Leon continued to talk, it was all muffled. The tears were building up, making her want to scream. Eyelids were heavy and the frown on her face felt as if it was dragging her down. She dug her painted fingernails into her tan skin, making herself feel pain other than the memory she kept replaying.

Her bare face had dried stains all over them and her long brown curls were in a tangled mess. Looking down at her thighs in the dirty sweatpants, she wondered why this happened to her. Disgust filled her lungs and she felt like vomiting.

"Ms.Diaz?"

Natalia snapped back into reality, the horrid taste going back down her throat.

"Yes. It's true, I wouldn't lie."

The principal looked at her sympathetically, yet he seemed to not believe her.

"Do you have any evidence?" he asked.

"Evidence?" Natalia looked up once again, she was confused. How does someone show evidence of that?

"Well do you have any sort of thing to back up what your claiming?" he frowned.

"I- I didn't know I needed any," the tears strolled down her cheeks slightly, "Is it that you don't believe me?"

He never answered her question and her slight tears became waterfalls. They had tried to calm her down, to get her to take a nap but everytime she closed her eyes it was his face, and she'd rather not relive it.

Her whimpers calmed after an hour and she shivered from the cold. Her eyes numb, dragging down on her like a backpack on a hot day. Her stomach grumbled and somehow she didn't care whether she starved or not.

She was like this for the rest of the week. No food, constant crying, and not one word was spoken of her free will. The day was spent in and out of the office and her classrooms.

Eventually the tears dried and her throat ached. Her parents kept her in the house for days, never allowing her to stay in school after hours or get there early. It wasn't like she wanted to, but they prevented her from having the freedom she needed now.

No one knew, no rumours were spread and the only two outcomes of the event was a teacher with no job and a fifteen year old with no humanity.

Two weeks had passed and she couldn't get out of her mind. Panic attacks were every three hours, grades were bad, parents were sad, friends were mad, and there was no coming back.

Blankets stained with tears, napkins and paper crumbs everywhere. The floor, the bed, the dresser all littered with cups and bottles. Dirt on the floor from lack of cleaning and all the clothes picking it up. The tv is on, yet nothing's playing. Soft knocks on the door are echoed throughout the room.

"Natalia, dinner's ready," her mom whispers.

Whimpers echo while she slowly opens her eyes in the dimly lit room. She turns her heavy body: first stretching her legs, bending her back in response, arms stretch towards the headboard, dried lips yawn, head feeling heavy, stomach grumbling. Her short legs drag as she gets up and out of the room. She'd memorized the pitch black room; not once did she step on dirty clothes or hit her toe against the bed frame. Opening the door to the light caused her eyes to blink for a minute before focusing, stumbling back just a little bit. Her body's lack of strength forced her to slowly find her place at the dinner table.