Desired, but never loved.

Chapter 8

"Hey everyone, Trigger warning: This chapter contains discussions of sexual abuse, rape, and intense representations of mental breakdowns."

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"Missing me?" Arun texted me, No, no, no, I don't want this. I threw my phone to the other side. What does he want from me again? He's not here, Ash. He's in Australia. He can't hurt you. It's just a text. Navya saw me throw my phone and ran over to me. "What's up?" she asked. I couldn't speak. I wanted to speak, but the words wouldn't come out of my mouth.

Navya grabs my phone and checks it. "Wait, why is this bastard texting you?" She scrolled down. "He had texted you before? Why didn't you tell me?"

What was I supposed to say? That he texts me once a month and I just ignore it? Do I ignore it? No, it haunts me. Navya holds me.

"It's okay. It's just a text, Ash. Don't worry." Don't worry? What if he comes back? What if he just comes back to the same neighborhood?

"Ash, talk to me."

I looked at her, tears streaming down my face. I didn't know what to say or do. How could I explain this? What if Navya calls my parents in? They would see the text and have a hundred questions, and I wouldn't have any answers. No, Navya wouldn't call anyone in. She knows how to handle me. It's 10:30 PM; Mom and Dad are already in their room.  She's never seen me have an attack this bad before. I always used to tell her how my attacks could be better managed—or did I? No, I never said anything to Navya. Damn, she's going to see me have an attack. What if she gets scared? What if she—

Navya slowly walks to my door and locks it. She turns off the lights in my room. Dark, it's dark. I can't breathe. A flash pops up from her phone. She lays me down and tells me to look up at the ceiling. Stars. I have luminous stars on my ceiling. She lies down beside me. "How many stars do you have?"

"111"

"Why 111, Though?"

"It's because 111 symbolizes a new beginning, a fresh start, or a new cycle," I said. I know she's trying to distract me. She knows I don't talk whenever I start or stop crying for a while. She knows how my anxiety works.

"Navya," I whisper, "have you ever tried to kill yourself?" I feel stupid asking this question to a 15-year-old girl. But I attempted when I was 12. I was unconscious, and I don't know how long I had passed out. No one was home.

"No, I want to see what I'll be in my future," she says, knowing I've tried.

"I didn't tell you everything," I say, holding her hand. "I didn't tell you what actually happened."

"It's fine. You don't need to. Just take your time. Tell me when you're ready," she reassures me. I'm not ready, but I'm tired of keeping everything to myself. I want to say it to someone. I want to share it.

"You know that I was forced to kiss Arun and he touched me." She turned off the flashlight on her phone. The stars glowed in the dark, illuminating my room. It was no longer completely dark; a small light from the pole outside my room made it slightly less dark.

"It was my 11th birthday when I went to his house to play hide and seek. I was not alone; his cousin and his sister were there too. They heard me say no, but they didn't come in. He kissed me. He forced me too. I tried to stop him, but he slapped me really hard. I tried to push him, but he was strong and held both of my hands. He started touching me everywhere. First, he touched my breasts, then his hands went inside my dress. He touched me 'there.' He said something about it. I-I do remember. He said, 'I bet your pussy is as good as your face.' I tried to kick him." Tears were still rolling down my cheeks.