In the Absence of Light

23

Ivy 

I hate him. I hate him so fucking much. I hate his stupid fucking face and his stupid fucking voice. I hate every single one of his friends. I hate Ryan Fuller and Matt Campbell and Luke Wilson. I fucking trusted him. I trusted all of them at some point. I was comfortable around them and comfortable in their house. They were my friends. They were kind to me. They cared for me.

They fucking manipulated me. They must've planned it out months in advance. Everything they did around me was one big ploy, a huge fucking joke to get me where they wanted me—naked and tied to Matt's bed frame, screaming until I no longer could.

They took advantage of me. They used me. They wanted to humiliate me, and they fucking did.

"I fucking hate them," I wail. "I hate them so fucking much."

They ruined me. They ruined my entire life.

I let out a loud cry, gasping for air. I can't fucking breathe. My lungs are so empty, I can't stay silent. I sound like a fucking child, wailing and weeping like I missed my damn bedtime.

I rock back and forth in the tub, exerting my hurt through my limbs. I don't know what else to do with it. I can't cry any harder or scream any louder. But this isn't enough.

I'm in pain. Everything hurts. My head feels like it's going to explode, and my chest feels like it's shrunk to half its size. My fingers are tingling, and my wrists feel blue. My thighs are burning. I can't even feel my feet anymore.

My tears pool in the bridge of my nose and there's drool spilling out of my mouth. I can't control myself at all. I'm a fucking mess.

I can feel their hands all over me. I can feel them all over my skin, touching me everywhere they shouldn't and violating me all over again. My whole body is on fire. My stomach hurts. I feel trapped. I can't move and I'm seconds away from puking all over the place.

I want to leave. I want this tub to swallow me whole. I already feel a thousand pounds, I may as well sink down into the ground, too. Maybe I can wash down the drain with the water and everything else coming off me.

I've turned the heat all the way up. Each droplet burns my skin, but that's the whole point. I need him to be gone—all of them.

I shouldn't have come here. I shouldn't have left the house. I should've known better. I can't do anything in this damn town.

I hate it. I hate it so fucking much.

I feel gross. I feel disgusting.

I can't stay here anymore. I need to go back home. I can't deal with it anymore. I can't stand seeing their faces—their smug looks and cocky remarks. They look at me so viciously. They're proud of what they did, and they want to remind me of it every chance they get.

They'd do it again in a heartbeat.

I'm not safe here. I never was. I was a fool for thinking I could stay here. I can't handle it.

"Ivy?" Erin's voice calls out to me from the other side of the door. "Are you okay?"

No. No, I'm not fucking okay.

I want to cry and scream and rip this skin off my body. I've been scrubbing it for what feels like hours now, trying everything I can to get him off of me. I'm sick of it. I don't want to feel them anymore. I'll use a whole bottle of soap if that's what it takes. Heat, soap, and the toughest exfoliating sponge I can find, and if that doesn't work, I may as well bathe in a tub of bleach because I can't handle this shit anymore.