"Why is this happeneding to me?" I screamed in pain and terror. My hands, stained red, grasped at the door handle, turning it and turning it, to no avail. I kicked and pounded on the steel door, sobbing and growing weaker in each attempt. All hope for an escape seemed further than ever. There was nothing I could do.
I heard a voice on the other side of the door, quietly saying "It's for your own good, Lyss." I immediately punched the door. "Don't you dare call me that! Ever! You're a bastard and you don't get to call me that!" I took a step back, breathing hard from anger as well as lack of energy, and waited. The silence lasted a couple seconds and I heard the door being unlocked. I stood there and watched as it slowly creaked open and there he was. Standing in the doorway like he owned the whole world. Which he technically did.
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Aaron Fasker. The only millionaire left. The richest man in the remains of what used to be The United States. My sort of ex boyfriend. By sort of, I mean he was my highschool history teacher, turned..let's say playmate. At 22, he was the youngest adult at NorthView Highschool, and honestly, the best looking man in the school. And he wanted me. A lowly sophomore, with no potential but lots of trust. Misplaced trust.
At the beginning it was innocent. He'd write cute little notes on my homework, tell me I looked pretty, play with my hair as he walked around class. It was nothing. As time went on, we'd have lunch together. I would get to school early to see him. He just made me feel like I mattered. I'd never had a boyfriend before. Fifteen and nothing more than a valentine in fourth grade. So yeah, I took anything I could get.
We didn't really get physical other than kisses on the cheeks and him touching me in class. Of course, that changed. After a couple weeks, we went to a new level. I was washing my hands in the bathroom after school, most everyone had left. I always stayed late because my aunt wasnt able to pick me up on time. Anyway, I was in the girls restroom. I had turned to get a paper towel and I saw him in the doorway, just watching me.
"Oh! Mr. Fasker! I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there." I laughed, holding my hand over my heart.
"Do you need anything?" I asked, finishing off drying my hands. I looked at him, raising my eyebrows and tilting my head, confused. He just looked down, and laughed. Then he took a step towards me, pulling the door closed behind him, locking it. He grabbed my hand and dragged me to the furthest stall. I was completely shocked and taken off guard; I had no idea what to do and wasn't able to focus on if it wanted it or not. Pushing me up against the wall, he kissed me passionately, one hand on my hip, the other behind my head. He went lower, kissing my neck and moved his hand up from my hip to my stomach.
I stared straight ahead, focusing on the graffiti of the stalls. "Darling" it said, the black, cursive lettering was truly something to be admired. To some, it may seem juvenile and not special, but to me, it just jumped out, amongst the other words. I traced the word with my eyes, following the fluent line, from the beginning of the D to the flourished end of the G. It was calming. I tried not to notice that his hand and his lips were moving to the same spot of my body. My chest. He seemed to grow more and more hungry; grasping at me harder, kissing me faster, and pushing me against the wall to the point where I couldn't move. I remember trying to say stop but before I could finish, the stall started to tilt and everything got bright and blurry. Then black.
Turns out I had fainted. My heart rate was too fast and I was out. Aaron said that he had taken me straight to the nurse and hadn't done anything, but I've always felt as if he had.
Four months later, I found out I was pregnant.
Before he heard the news, he had been treating me like absolute royalty. I spent all my extra time in his classroom. I didn't care about what he had done because I loved him. Well, I thought I did. I just wanted to feel wanted. And Mr. Fasker made me feel wanted. In the way he looked at me, talked to me, held me, touched me. He was the only person who actually seemed to want me here.
Until he heard about the baby. In a split second he changed. His demeanor, his body language, his face. It all went cold and I felt scared. Scared for my life. I didn't know what he would do to me. At that moment, he looked like he was going to put his hands on me, and not in the loving ways he's done before. I began to slowly inch backwards, and waited for him to say something. It seemed like years had passed before he took a breath and opened his mouth.
"What?" was all he said as he slowly stood up from his chair. I couldn't look at him, I stared at the ground and quietly responded, "I-I'm pregnant..".
Before I knew it, I was on the ground, my right cheek stung like a motherfucker, and I was in complete shock. He had just hit me. I tried to move jaw but it seemed unhinged. Dislocated? My arm hurt too. A rug burn from the fall perhaps? So many things had just happened. Once I got my bearings, I looked up at him, terrified.
"What are you-" He kicked me stomach and I fell on my side. I couldn't breath, he had knocked the wind out of me. The overwhelming sense of pain completely took over and I couldn't focus my eyes enough to even look at him as he kicked and kicked again and again. He seemed to grow even more angry and each kick grew stronger, more powerful and more passionate. I tried and tried to scream, I did everything I could but he kept striking me in the stomach and I couldn't get enough time or enough of a breath to shout.
He finally took a break and used his shirt to wipe away the sweat that had built up from his beating, and I used this time to scramble up and run towards the door. My half broken, teenage body was no match for his muscular, 30 year old man physique and he grabbed my arm before I could make it two feet. He just held me there, not letting me go, and said, "You little bitch, you think you can get away with this? I can't have a fucking baby. Do you know what that would do to me? That would ruin me! And I'm not going to let some ugly ass, no good bitch like you do that to me. So you're not going to say anything to anyone. Do you understand?" I nodded my head, tears streaming down my face. He tightened his grip on my arm and said through his teeth, "I said, do you understand?"
"Yes, sir." I whimpered and he threw me to the side, sauntered out of his room, running his hands through his hair as if nothing had happened.
I immediately fell to floor, unable to control my sobbing, and curled into ball, holding my stomach. The adrenaline was wearing off and it was beginning to really hurt to the point where I couldn't stand if I wanted to. I crawled out the door and managed to make it out side before the pain had become to much for me and I was out.
I awoke in the nurse's office with the principal and my aunt was standing over me. I tried to sit up but instantly screamed; the pain was too much. I heard voices coming from my teachers and aunt but I couldn't focus enough to actually understand what they were saying. I managed to rasp out "Ribs." and "Hospital." and then we were in the car.
I ended up with three broken ribs, a penetrated diaphragm and I had lost the baby.
I told everyone that I had been waiting outside the school for my aunt to pick me up when some man in a hood came over and asked for my money. When I told him I didn't have any, he began to beat me. The story worked, luckily there had been situations in the past with a man who harassed the girls at my school, so they easily believed my story and that was it. I said I didn't want to press charges and that I just wanted everyone to drop it. I went through the rest of the school year, ditching Mr. Fasker's class, taking pain pills, and crying over my dead baby.
I never told anyone the truth.
