𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐘 // 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐈𝐈

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

𝙇𝙤𝙪𝙞𝙨𝙚 𝘾𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙩

Past
age sixteen

(TW: SA mentioning, talking about rape, SH)

It's been four months since that night, and each night the hands traveled to my throat and choked every little piece of innocent out my body.

Each morning I look in the mirror and saw Louise Crist.
I used to be Lou.
That version died the day the hands took my last piece of confidence.

The thoughts in my mind disgusted me.
There was a part of me that wished he hadn't only touched me.
If he had gone further, maybe they'd believed me.

My father had asked me if I was raped that night.
Maybe I should have said yes.
Maybe he would have called the police.

But I didn't know what happened.

Noah had told me that he had noticed rikas weird behavior and knew that something wasn't right. He had seen me getting dragged up the stairs but it took him a while until he came.

His hands were under my skirt and my shirt was open.

The next morning I had gone to school acting as if nothing happened. Trevor had told Michael that I made out with Miles on that party.
That had explained my bruised throat and décor.
My oldest brother only cringed and muttered „disgusting" under his breath.

Trevor.
He's my twin.
We used to be close when we were younger, before he turned into a wanna be version of dad.

Trevor knew I was assaulted by Miles Anderson and still, he walked up to him the next day like the night before had never happened.

Every morning I spent half an hour in front of my mirror, telling myself that there are women who go through worser.

Nothing happened.

It was just touching but it felt like flames on my skin. I needed to rip them of my body, get rid of those hands.

The world started to look different from then on.
Darker.
I saw shadows that weren't there before.
I started to like the loneliness.

„Ma'am?"
My thoughts disappeared to thin air and I turned around, seeing a man standing behind me.
„Do you need help?"
„No, I'm great."

He nodded skeptical and walked away.

I was waiting for Michael to come and pick me up from ballet class, but he was late.
Mom made him pick me up ever since that night and he hated it.
Normally, I took the bus but not anymore I guess.

I was wearing my ballet shirt with some jogging pants above it and a jacket covering my naked arms. It was freezing today.

Finally, a car rolled to the side of the street and I got up from the stairs and grabbed my sports bag.

When a black haired guy with eyes like midnight stepped out of the car to let me in, I sighed dramatically.

Of course he was driving around with his friends again.