Shy and timid, Onika lives in a dilapidated Detroit neighborhood with her abusive uncle. She is hopelessly in love with Marshall Mathers, a troubled young man that lives next door to her in their rough hood.
Marshall is rude, agressive and uncouth...
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Three days earlier
I sit at the edge of the examination table, nervously tapping my foot and chewing on my buttom lip, awaiting to hear the results of my rape kit.
Sharonda is here with me, she wasn't present during the actual examination, but as soon as it was all over and I was allowed to get dressed again, I asked one of the nurses to call my friend in because I needed her for support.
"It's gonna be okay, Onika. Whatever happened, it wasn't your fault, girl," she tells me resaurringly, squeezing my hand in her, just as the doctor walks in, looking through her clipboard.
And one of the first things I can think is thank God that they had a female physician and all female nurses to observe me, because while I have nothing againstmale doctors, I think I would've literally died if I had to be looked at by a man in this way right now.
"Miss.. Onika Maraj?" The doctor clarifies my name.
"Yes?" I whisper, nodding stiffly.
I literally feel like... my whole world is being shaken to it's core as I'm even imagining the possibilities.
Like... I don't want to be that girl, I don't want this whole thing to be true. Even if I can't remember anything, and it's not even my fault like Sharonda keeps preaching to me, I still don't want to accept the possibility that I might've got down with some dude I don't even know or like. That's just nasty to me, and I hope to God that I haven't, but then again, won't that it make this whole thing even worse anyways? Finding out that I was like... legit VIOLATED instead??
I really don't know, you guys.
All I do know is that either outcome is making me want to quite literally throw up right now...
To having escaped that thing that's almost happened with my uncle, only to have some other man possibly...
God, I'm going to be sick..
"Alright, so what I'm seeing here," the woman in a white lab coat finally announces after double checking something in her notepad, her voice coming out sounding critical and cold "is that the results of your rape kit test have came back inconclusive," she states.
"In... conclusive?" I then ask, just as Sharonda scoffs, grabbing my hand.
"Fuck you even mean by that, doc, she was either raped or not had sex at all!" Sharonda huffs out.
