Forgotten?

"Do what I want Karlä...and no one gets hurt"

Karlä was surprised that Mal wanted to know. Her sister caring...was painful especially after all the pain she'd put her through. "It wasn't as bad as I thought." The truthful admission came.
Mal wanted to know more. "So what was it like?"
Hesitating, Karlä told her "They just asked about my relationship with him ..." another pause came. "and why I left."
There was no surprise in hearing a sigh at the other end of the phone. "So Karz," the nickname was being used on her again. "can you tell my why you left?"
This time it was Karlä that sighed. "Over the phone?"
A blunt reply came. "You're not going to tell me any other way."
Karlä gulped. Mallory really did know her .
So the confession came.

"Fine. I thought I was a failure." Karlä was surprised her sister didn't drop the phone. "What?!" Struggling to comprehend, Mal expanded. "Why?! Who told you that?" Karlä cast her mind back to her GPA . "I wasn't getting good enough grades, I was hanging about with the wrong people..." another admission was added. "I wasn't doing stuff I was supposed do."
Her sister still didn't get it. "Why did you run away though? Is that not, drastic?"
As Karlä was contemplating how to answer, her sister whispered the painful truth. "Cohen?"
"Mhmm...wait what? How do you know about him?" Mal was blunt. "Brianna."
For a minute, Karlä thought about cursing her eldest sister. "He really wanted me to run away with him."
She eventually admitted.
Suspicious, Mal enquired. "Why?"
"He was evading the police for drug trafficking." Karlä told her.
Her older sister had one last question. "So Karlä, I know you didn't want to talk about our time apart but I need to know ... did Carlson treat my sister well?"

One of Karlä's worst memories was being brought back to her.

"I don't get why you don't want to have sex with me!" Cohen roared. Karlä knew he was intoxicated so he didn't mean it.
Well that's what she kept trying to tell herself.
Being on her period, Karlä wasn't comfortable having sex. She also didn't want to have intercourse with a bloodshot, breath reeking man who appeared decades above his actual age.
Of course Cohen was not taking no for an answer. Dragging his girlfriend by her throat, he threw her onto the double bed.
Karlä did everything not to wince in pain as her head hit off the bed post. With a bottle in his hand, Karlä could only watch as Cohen lunged it at her.
Despite turning her head away and having her eyes shut, Karlä could still feel the glass pierce into her skin as the beer bottle shattered over her head.
Still not done, Cohen then proceeded to pin Karlä down. He ripped her jacket, her jeans and her crop top off until she lay down, scantily clad.
The last words that Karlä remembered hearing were
"Do what I want Karlä...and no one gets hurt."

Karlä couldn't go through the memories. Not again. So she quit. Hanging up the phone, Karlä wished that she wasn't living. Or suffering at Cohen's hands. Because the worst thing wasn't the rape, the physical, mental or emotional abuse she suffered. It was trying to tell everyone she loved what happened.