Delicate

envy with a splash of fury

☆: *.☽ Cassandra ☆: *.☽

"I rewind the tape but all it does is pause, on the very moment all was lost"

March 27, 2005

The last fucking thing I wanted was to be shoved on a bus with the rugby team, but here I was. They had some stupid match in Dublin and I was fucking dreading it.

I was the only person sitting alone. I had headphones on and my feet draped across the seat next to me.

I'd watched as everyone piled onto the bus, one of the last people being Theo's girlfriend—Gracelyn—I think her name was. I studied her as she walked down the aisle, confidence radiating off her, making me envious. I wished I had confidence, or at least an smidge of self-esteem.

She exchanged waves with Adeline, who I was also extremely envious of. Adeline Kavanagh was the picture of perfection. With golden blonde hair, big brown eyes, smooth tanned skin and pouty lips, I found myself imagining how it'd feel to be pretty like that.

I wasn't just envious of her looks. I was envious of the people she had in her corner. Her older brother, Johnny, was seated in front of her and a blonde boy was next to her. I knew she had a twin brother as well and Gracelyn. She had support, these people believed her, they stood with her. While I had no one.

I was alone, both on this bus and in life.

I accidentally turned my head too far and locked eyes with a set of green ones that I'd tried to avoid with everything in me. But I couldn't look away, when a smile stretched onto his lips I felt myself blush. Theo nodded his head in acknowledgment and I quickly whipped my head around and slouched down in my seat.

That boy was an accident waiting to happen. By accident I meant disaster, and that's why I was never going to speak to him again.

I turned the volume on my iPod up and got into a comfortable position, considering I had a long ride ahead of me.

———————————————————

A few long hours later I was standing in the torrential downpour in the stands of a rugby pitch. I didn't mind the rain, but I definitely did mind having to watch these pricks play.

Apparently there had been some sort of commotion because the opposing team didn't want Johnny Kavanagh to play. I wasn't sure what that meant or why it mattered, but nonetheless, the game began.

I payed practically zero attention to it, even though I knew the game like the back of my hand. I used to go to every one of Stephan's games back when we were together. The thought of that made me feel sick.

Even though it all happened so long ago, I could still remember every single detail. It was my own personal hell, and the worst part was I couldn't make it stop. My head never let up on replaying the memory of him forcing himself inside of me, and how that damaged me in more ways than he could ever imagine.

It was an endless loop of my life crashing and burning, and all I could do was watch the fire spread.

When the image of fourteen year old me flashed in my mind I felt myself tremble. I wanted to scream at her for being so stupid. For letting myself fall for a guy like Stephan. For trusting him and letting him fuck with my head. For ruining my fucking life.

But as much as I wanted to blame Stephan, I was equally to blame. I'd made a plethora of mistakes that led me to become the lifeless shell I was today.

My mind shot to the day in the court room—my testimony—and I wanted to cry, or scream or fucking kill someone. I'd fucked up. I'd ruined my own life and my families in that moment and I could never take it back.

"Why the hell did she even bother coming?" A voice dragged me from my thoughts. I didn't have to turn around to know they were talking about me.

"If I were her I'd just kill myself already," another voice snickered.

Block it out, I tried to tell myself, but I could feel the anger coursing through my veins.

"Honestly," someone laughed. "It's only a matter on time before she does."

I couldn't stop myself from turning around and shooting them all dirty looks, "fuck yourselves, you're all fucking cunts."

Then I stormed off to the one place I knew best, the toilets. Two fifth year girls nearly knocked me over as they exited the bathroom, both offering me looks of disgust as they passed.

I headed straight into the bathroom but stopped in my tracks when I noticed the blonde hunched over the sink. She looked absolutely broken and I felt myself twinge with a rare sense of sympathy.

I knew it was Adeline. I could tell from her outfit and from her shiny blonde hair. I'd been wanting to talk to her since I found out about Stephan, but she was always with people. Always as in, at lunch, during class, after her ballet practice and even in the toilets. Gracelyn or that blonde boy were clung to her side like super glue.

This was my chance. I had to say something.

"Adeline?" I forced out, with a slight wobble in my voice.

"What?! What the hell do you want?" She yelled, not making an effort to look at me. I wasn't upset by her outburst because I understood it.

I had the same anger bubbling up inside of me, and I had for years. She turned to look at me, her expression softening once she realized I was a stranger.

"I just wanted to say I believe you," I offered, staring into her eyes as they met mine.

"Um," she nodded, "yeah, thanks."

I took a step closer and inhaled deeply, "No Adeline, I believe you."

"Yeah," she cleared her throat, "I heard."

"Adeline," I swallowed hard, knowing I had to say the words, "I believe you, because he did it to me too."

I needed her to know. I needed her to understand she wasn't alone. I might've been, but she wasn't. Her eyes flashed with terror before they settled to a look of devastation.

She opened her mouth to reply, but Gracelyn was throwing open the door and gasping for air, "Addy, we have to go. It's Johnny."

Her eyes left mine and went to her best friend, "what? What happened?"

"He collapsed on the pitch," Gracelyn looked close to tears.

"Shite," she choked out, "lets go." She followed Gracelyn but froze in the bathroom doorway and turned back to me, "I'll talk to you soon, I swear."

And then she left me standing in the bathroom with my heart on my sleeve. I told her, she knew. I'd done what I had to, and now it was her move.

But with my luck, I'd still be alone with no one to understand me.
And maybe it was better that way.
Maybe it was easier.