The alarm goes off. 7:30 AM. It is a cloudy December morning and in front of me is the chaos that is my room, the dark ragged outline of the dirty clothes on my dresser and the tall lamp that I always trip over in the dark. At first I assumed that it was too early to be up. I poke my head outside the window and I see that the sky is awash with various shades of grey. Light managed to breakthrough in a few places, but otherwise it was almost as dark as predawn. Soon there'll be traffic noises, the strong smell of morning coffee, and the sweet sound of my mother's voice shouting at me to get up.
I pull the pillow from under my head and squeeze it on top of my face. Aside from a few vivid dreams, I didn't sleep a wink. My stomach starts to shift uneasily. How can I ever show my face again? The thought sped in my mind like a broken record. They'll tease me, steal my stuff, and stick who knows what in my locker.
"Oh look! It's the rapist's son!"
"I don't want to risk my dignity by being near you!"
"You're going to end up like your dad, Rian."
These voices in my head are the thoughts I've never expected to hear in my life, but now I hear them everyday. It's been a whole week after the whole incident was revealed and it's been haunting me ever since.
I finally manage to get myself out of bed and get ready for another day— another nightmare that turned into reality.
I drag myself towards the bathroom. The soles of my feet rub against the cold, marble floor. After I'm done brushing my teeth, I turn on the shower knob. The scorching water pours, sliding down my sides as my mind fades into dullness.
Everything is a foggy illusion.
The sensation of the steamy water calms me— pulling me away from all thoughts I yearn to avoid.
The warm water and the powerful musky scent of the dense body wash is what makes me almost lose track of time. My second alarm rings and brings me back into reality. After wrapping myself in a white towel, I run back to my room and throw on whatever catches my eye, a pair of dark, grey jeans and a black sweatshirt.
My school is five blocks away from the sumptuous four story building I call home. There is no rain or snow, but the air is frigid and smells of storms. You see men and women rushing their kids to school, even though it's still completely early. The wind howled, piling up snow in drifts and the parks are covered in thick blankets of white.
My stomach grumbles as I slowly push the doors of my school open with my feeble arms.
Left. Right.
Left. Right.
I feel numerous pairs of eyes on me, but I keep my gaze lowered. Time had begun to dissolve into itself as the hours pass by.
The school cheerleaders in their purple and gold uniforms glare me down as I walk past their table with my tray of food. I notice a few of Jason's friends approaching. A tall, muscular guy in a letterman's jacket bumps one of his shoulders into mine, purposefully.
I should be used to this by now, but I'm not. They were angry for sure, but at what?
No one can blame me for something I didn't do, or at least that's what I thought. The idea still bothers me, no matter how many times my sister, Vivian, tells me that it's not my fault. The stain of guilt that is inside of me won't erase.
I walk towards my table and sit next to my friends, Jesse and Victor— the only two people who don't look at me like I'm from some horrid planet.
Jesse smiles assuringly. ''Hey Rian, are you okay?'' I shrug.
"Just the usual", I say. She knows that I've been the same for a while, not really okay. Jesse gently places her hand on my shoulder.
Victor takes a bite out of his Fiber One bar and says with a mouthful, "Hang in there buddy." I give back a reassuring smile, letting both of them know that soon things will be alright.
I stare at my lunch tray. The food is the same as yesterday, which is soggy meatloaf. My stomach rumbles louder this time. I'm so hungry that I don't even care about the tiny patches of dark green, almost black, mold in the front. I find myself scarfing down the entire meatloaf and washing it away with some cold, bottled water.
Victor laughs. "That's sick man."
The three of us continue our lunch period like we regularly do, paying no attention to the whispers and conversations around our table.
I wish I can smile and laugh my entire life away with my mom, my sister, Jesse, Victor... One day I can move past all this and my father... my father may or may not decide to turn himself around.
"Gross! It's the pedofile's kid!"
"Tell your dad to go to hell!"
"Rapist!"
A pedophile and a rapist—that's my father's title.
Now, it's slowly becoming mine.
Every word stung, only fueling the fire that burned inside of me. Tears blind me and I turn, running as quickly as my long legs can carry me. I find myself bolting down the alleyway, quickening my pace to an all out sprint. I feel the pounding noise of my tennis shoes resonating off the walls of the alley that match my throbbing heart that's filled with grief and fear. Rage hisses through my body, screeching a demanded release of unwanted violence.
I shout at the top of my lungs. ''Why'd you do it dad?! Why?''
Think Rian, think.
Think of all the positive things in your life right now.
Mom. Vivian. Jesse. Victor. Myself.
My heart's rate slows down a bit. The pleasing thoughts of my family and friends diverge into a cold, empty room that stands at the end of a corridor. The fluorescent walls flicker as the walls scream out in pain. A lifeless shadowed figure is curled up at the corner of his cell. He carelessly drags his feet across the floor and the baggy orange jumpsuit hangs from his scrawny figure. A tall, brawlic guard removes the man's handcuffs and his skeletal fingers clutch the cell bars. He stares almost right through me.
''I'm sorry son!''
I shake my head, knowing that he's not apologetic for any of the vacuous actions he had taken.
