Predator

Chapter Six

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My palms are digging into my eyes so hard that I see white. Every sound is amplified, from the dripping faucet to my thin, shaky breaths. I've lost track of time. How long have I been waiting, hours? I know that it hasn't been more than three minutes but it feels just the same.

This is bad. This is really, really bad.

Ohhh, I hate him! I hate him with every part of me! I've never hated him as much as I do in this moment, god, I hate him! He did this to me, he's made an entire month of my life a living hell and probably the rest of my life! I want him to die! I want him to suffer! I hate him! I hate him! I hate him!

Suddenly the timer goes off and I nearly scream. It rings too loudly, it's irritating me more than it should. But to turn it off I'd have to take away my hands from my eyes and I really don't want to. Ugh...okay. Open your eyes, Rachel.

They don't open. This is like standing outside of the choir room door again, my body will just not move.

Open. Your. Eyes, Rachel.

Stop being such a coward! How are you supposed to perform before sold-out crowds on Broadway if you can't even do this?

Rachel, open your eyes right-

They finally flash open. And I don't even blink before I feel my legs give out beneath me.

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! I'm collapsed here on the cold tile floor and all of the air in my lungs has evaporated, I can't breathe! I'm gasping for air through the uncontrollable sobs that I can't slow, like a dying fish.

"No! No! Oh no! No!" I hear myself wail, muffled because my face is pressed against my knees. I can't even focus on anything that I'm thinking because a million things are rushing through my mind, I think I might pass out! No! This can't be happening to me!

I can't have a baby!

I can't have his baby!

I feel weak from the head rush I'm getting. It's been a long, awful month. Yes, my body has healed and all the physical evidence of that night is gone, but I still walk around just as paranoid as I was the first day after. I think I might have some sort of PTSD or something. I know I can't let it get to me. I've been getting my grades back up and I try so, so hard to make an effort in glee club, but the song in my heart, it's just not there anymore. My daily MySpace videos have been on hiatus since that night, but it's not like anyone's missing them. I just...don't want to sing.

I think I hate him for that the most.

We might lose Sectionals because of my mediocre performing. No matter how hard I try, I can't find that connection I once had. I know everyone's noticed. I especially hope that he's noticed so he knows that it's all his fault! Well, I guess it's my fault too for acting like a whore during Ballad week.

But no matter where the blame falls, I'm having his baby and that is non-negotiable.

"What am I gonna do?" I wail, feeling incredibly dizzy as I lie here on the floor. I'm having the baby of the man who raped me! Forget that even, I'm having a baby! I'm only fifteen! How am I supposed to be a mother?!

All the effort I put into trying to forget what happened is ruined, now I have a constant, permanent reminder! I'm going to have a reminder for the rest of my life! God, what will my family say? What will my peers say? What will he say?

Oh, I can't tell him! He'd make me get an abortion, or worse, he'd attack me again and make me miscarry! And even if he doesn't, he would never take responsibility for it. He has a wife and their child on the way already! Mr. Schuester would never look at my illegitimate one as his own!