Gutted monument

Escape my mind

One moment everything was perfect, the next my life, non existent. I had to go to that party. Just had to go in that room. Couldn't stick up for myself. Couldn't fight back, couldn't see his intentions, couldn't see through his facade. I shouldn't have gotten drunk. Should have said no.
I should have. I could have. I had to.

REWIND 1 DAY:

I could remember the smell of alcohol on his breath. Remember the smile he had at my attempts to free my self. How he held my hands above my head. How he straddled me in that way to cage my body. I remember my mouth going dry. Remember when my pleas for help met deaf ears. He had his way with me. I remember how I could do nothing to stop him. Stop the inevitable. I'd never thought I'd be part of the statistics. The one-in-three. To feel worthless. Dirty. Like a gutted monument. No matter how much I'd scrub, even until my skin was on fire and raw, I'd never be able to wash away what he did. What he did would forever be pressed in my skin, I'd be branded for all eternity.

REWIND 2 DAYS:
The party-

I did an over look of my outfit, I was ready. - As I walked up the drive way I could see people doubled over puking because they couldn't take what was in their cups anymore. The music could be heard from down the street. "Now or never, maybe I shouldn't have come.. Why did I? Too late now" I thought, as people behind me rush to get inside. The smell of alcohol thick in the room and some other faint smell I couldn't name. Upon my arrival a cup with contents I believed to be alcohol was shoved into my hand as a heavy hand was placed on my shoulder. "You made it!" Slurred my bestfriend Jack over the music. "Yepp" I yelled back "well don't be a party pooper! DRINK IT!!" To much resistance, I downed the cup. With my throat on fire and a slight stumble to my walk, I precede on going into the kitchen, to hear Jack's now faint hollers of victory. "Boys" I mumble. "What to do next?" I think out loud. I fill my cup again thinking "I've already downed one, what will another do?"
5 refills and 4 shots later.
I find myself in the master bathroom in dire need  to pee. Stumbling to the toilet I finally do just that. Some how I make it back to the sink and wash my hands. I see my reflection, eyes slightly glazed over, cheeks flushed. I splash water on my face and wipe it off with a paper towel. Giggling at the tile on the floor, I walk out, well l try to and end up on the carpet near the bed. I hear footsteps and turn to see a pair of sneakers in my face, rolling over trying to see who it is. I'm stopped by being pinned to the flooring with my face smushed in the carpet. I begin to sober up and try to free my hands. I can hear him chuckle as he throws me on the bed. I could smell the alcohol on his breath as he smiles at my attempts to free myself seeing as he has me trapped again. He holds my hands above my head, straddling me in a way to encage my body. He assaults my neck with sloppy kisses. "Stop Jack!" I yell. "Shut up! It'll be a lot easier on you!" He shoots back bringing a hand across my cheek, slapping me. My mouth goes dry. My pleas for help would meet deaf ears. I was no match for a Allstar line backer. He proceeds to bite and suck my neck. With one hand holding my hands, the other rips open my shirt. I start struggling again trying to cover my self from his lustful eyes. He yanks my hands back down with one hand, never once stopping his rough nips at my skin, and uses the other to take off my pants. My eyes grow wide. This CANNOT happen! No! I start to thrash my body. Only making him mad. He yanks at my hair and brings his fist back and punches me immobilizing my body. My vision going in and out. Then suddenly all is black.

As I come to alcohol fills my nose, my head pounding, and body sore. Pieces of what happened come back to me. No one heard my screams. No one stopped him. I brought my legs into me and hug them tight. And I begin to cry. And cry. And cry.... How could I have been so stupid. I thought I could trust him. I crawled to the end of the bed in search of my pants, bra and the remains of my shirt and underwear. With a tear stained face I head toward the bathroom, head hung, never daring to look at myself. Of what would be staring back at me in the mirror. I wash my face and begin dressing. Everyone was long gone, or was passed out in various places in and out of the house. I quickly take a shirt from the closet and all but sprint out of the door, and into my house. As I reach my room, relieved as I am the only one home. I strip out of those god awful clothes and turn on my shower. I scrub and scrub until my skin was as red as the blood coursing through my veins. No matter how much I scrub, even until my skin is on fire and raw. I know I'd never be able to wash away what happened last night, and so I scream, I curse, and I cry, knowing that I would never get that one thing I cherished so much back to me. I could never take back that night. No do overs. No re-dos or rewinds. I would forever be haunted by my memory unable to escape my mind.