Crushed

Chapter 19

There I was, sitting on Alex's bed, him across the room from me, closing the door, and locking it. I look down, and I'm wearing a tight fitting shirt, and short shorts, not realising that my body wasn't the shape it was supposed to be. He crossed the room, and approached me, with a creepy, sexual-type look on his face. He slowly pushed me back, into a lying position, and crawled over me. What? He started kissing my neck, slowly advancing towards my lips. No. "No..." I said, but he ignored me, and kept going. "No, not now." I started trying to push him off, but he kept going, and going. His hand started creeping up under my shirt. "No!" I told him, moving his hand, and pulling my shirt back down. I shoved his shoulders back, and pushed myself to a sitting position. "Mmm... Bella..." He started saying, continuing to advance on me. "No, get off!" I said, pushing him away from me. He never gave up. He just kept trying and trying, I couldn't handle it, I slapped him. He stumbled backwards, but it still didn't phase him. He just went back to trying to get under my shirt, and I kept trying to push him off.

I woke with a start, realising it was just a dream. Nothing was making any sense. Why would he do something like that? He wouldn't. But why did my brain think he would? What is wrong with me? Do I not trust him? No, I trust him. Is it because of the kiss? No, I was okay with that. Then what could it be? I caught myself before overanalyzing any farther, but the dream still haunted me. I couldn't get the feeling of powerlessness to leave, so I could just be free. I just wanted to be free of emotion, just for one day, I want to not have to think. I realize that makes me sound suicidal, but trust me, I'm not. As long as I'm sound of mind, I would never even consider it. That's just not the way I roll.

That day was thursday, and that day was probably one of the worst days, mentally, for me. I couldn't shake that feeling I had from the dream, and I couldn't even look at Alex without thinking about it. He obviously doesn't know, because why would I tell him that in my dream he was trying to rape me? I think that's the sort of thing that ruins relationships. Besides that, I was called to the guidance room, in the middle of french by Mrs.Pesten. As I followed her, shocked, and afraid, she led me from room 5 - the french room - to the guidance office which was just a couple doors down. She kept trying to reassure me, telling me that I wasn't in trouble, that I had nothing to worry about... She stopped for a moment, to unlock the door before opening it for me, and telling me to take a seat, also that she would be back in just a second. I slowly, and cautiously, entered the room, shocked by how nice the room was. It felt just like a lounge, there were couches along the walls, and a big red carpet covering the floor. Hanging from the wall was a bulletin board, with pamphlets pinned on it, all of them with varying subjects. One caught my eye, it was entitled, 'Suicide and depression, how to cope.' I was now very scared of what this was going to be about. Was I chosen as a last minute mentor? I thought, sitting on one of the couches along the right wall, the one closest to room 5, even if there were two other rooms in between. Mrs.Pesten walked back into the room, and sat next to me on the couch. "So, how are you doing? I ask because a couple of teachers including myself have noticed that you haven't really been yourself lately, and we were just talking about it, and I said I would check in with you." Teachers have been talking about me? "I don't know, it's just..." I trailed off, not really wanting to talk about feelings with my math teacher. There's nothing going on at home, if that's what you're wondering. I have a good relationship with my parents, and my brother isn't a problem. In fact, I've been complaining about school to my mom. I don't want to talk to the problem about it. "Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?" No, of course I don't want to talk about it. Why should I trust that you won't talk about this with the other teachers, because you obviously have no problem with it, seeing that you already have. I decided that the only way to get out of this conversation was to tell her, even if it was against my better judgement. "School has been really stressing me out lately... " I said. "What about it is stressful?" She asked, obviously thinking it was a stupid reason. "Everything... we have a history project, and French reading, and a ton of other stuff to do and... I just can't get it all done, I'm not a superhero," I said. At this point I was ready to cry. A single tear traced my cheek. "I get it... these things can be stressful, it's because all the teachers are trying to get marks for your second term report card," she said, trying to comfort me, and yet failing miserably. "What would you say has been stressing you the most?" She asked. "Um... Probably the history project we have that's due, and I have no time this weekend. Tonight I have volleyball practice, and we have a tournament this weekend. I also have a cello performance on Monday, and have to practice in all my spare time before then," I said, trying my best not to let any more tears show. "I get it, you have other commitments, and I know that big projects can be stressful sometimes, we just have to work though that," she said, orienting her body so that her shoulders were facing me, and her left knee was up on the couch, half bent so her lower body was also oriented towards mine. "Maybe if you ask Mme.Fenster for another day or two on the project, you might feel a little more at ease about this, and you know what, she'll most likely say yes, because it's not like she's going to be able to mark all of them in one night."
"Yeah just..."
"I know she's not going to mark all of those projects in one night, I mean, do you really think I mark all of your math tests in one night?" She asked, obviously looking for the answer, 'no'. "I don't know.." I said quietly. "No, I don't and I don't think she's going to either, unless she is some grading superhero," she said, making an attempt at a joke. I nodded my head slightly, and looked down before I met her eyes again. "The matter of fact is, Bella, you are a good student, and this isn't something that you have ever taken advantage of. This isn't a regular thing for you, and your teachers know that. So, I know, that if you ask her before the date that it's due, she's going to say yes. Your teachers trust you, and they know that you are a very hard-working student, so if you need more time, it's not going to be a regular thing. It's not like you waste your class time." Yeah, funny story... I totally don't waste class time ever... At this point, tears were covering my cheeks, and I just wanted to run, and hide. I don't like to bother people, especially teachers and other people's parents. I didn't run, I didn't hide, I just kept wiping the tears away with the sleeve of my sweater. I really wanted to hide in my sweater, but I couldn't. I just couldn't move. You wouldn't know what that feels like unless you have been confronted one-on-one by a teacher, and have no choice but to talk about your feelings, because they're concerned about your life. Honestly, just don't ask. I don't want to talk about it, and even if I did, I would talk to Julie or my mom, you know, someone I trust, and knows me for who I am, not just words on a page or answers on a test. Also, even if I did want to talk to you about it, I probably would. You don't need to stage an intervention for me out of the blue. I'd like to be at least a little mentally prepared for something where I'll be subjected to emotions I can't control, and might just scar me or make me weary for the rest of the day.
"Would you like me to talk to her beforehand, so she knows you're coming to her?" She asked, hopeful. "Yeah, that would be good..."
"When do you have history next?" She asked. "Last period," I said. Period... Damn dirty mind! Why? It's just a word! "Alright, I think I can get to her by then."
"Okay," I said, dabbing at another tear. "Alright, do you want to go back to class, or do you want to take a walk around, maybe try to calm down?" She said, standing, and taking a couple steps towards the door. "I think I'm alright," I said, pushing myself to my feet. "There's a mirror over there, if you want to look," She said, taking another step, and stopping. I took a quick peek at the mirror, and the girl staring back at me had red, puffy cheeks, and glossy eyes. She looked tired, and stressed. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, with flyaways tucked behind her ears. She looks weak, frail, broken. She looks nothing like what I see every morning, staring back at me in the mirror. She looks like she might as well be a different person, but no, she isn't a different person, she is me, and I feel weak. I just want to be strong, I want to be the person who, even if she gets told that she's a slut, she brushes it off, and still walks proudly the next day. I want to be that person again. I want to be strong again. I just want to be me. Why can't I? I take a deep breath, straighten my posture, and wipe the last tear from my cheek. I enter the classroom again, pretending nothing's wrong. I don't want to recall that conversation when someone asks me about what happened. I don't want anyone to ask me. Thankfully no one does, but here I am, telling you, and making myself shudder, and almost cry again just because. I have a lump in my throat, and my breathing is shaky just writing this. I don't ever want to have to experience that again. If you're reading this, just know, I don't take well to interventions, and would rather vent my feelings on my own time, not when it's forced. Please, don't force it.

*****

Now I have one more problem to add on to the others, another guy asked me to the dance. He shocked me with it, and I didn't know what to say, so I said I'd think about it. He told me to text him when I came to a decision, and gave me his number, and I don't know what to do. It may seem obvious what to do, I should just say no. I already agreed to go to the dance with my boyfriend, and I'm not the kind of person to dump their first boyfriend, because you know me, never wanting to trouble anyone. So why is this decision so hard? Oh yeah, because he was the guy I liked for two years, before Alex. He's in another class, and he hasn't said anything to me all year. I was thinking he hated me. He never responded to any of my texts, and we pretended we didn't know each other for the year. I don't know what prompted this, maybe because I'm taken? Or maybe because this is a test Alex set up, because someone told him about my past with this guy. Yes, definitely a test. But I think I still might have feelings for him. Please help, just tell me what to do! I don't know what I'll do.