Anonymous
We can be absolutely certain only about things we do not understand. - Eric Hoffer
You're walking. You feel slightly uncomfortable when people look at you. You always have. It's a trait you picked up when you were a preteen, a tough-person shield over your face, and your wary eyes darting back and forth. Subconsciously, you do this to scare people off, prevent them from talking to you. What good can come out of it, anyway? They'll like you until you open your mouth to speak. You can see their eyes as they watch you try to pronounce the letter S without spraying spittle all over their faces. You're such a loser, you think, you'd rather not speak at all.
Downtown is so beautiful, you think, looking at the historical brick buildings towering over you. These buildings make you feel like you belong to something. Walking pass the same bars and the same people never bores you. Some of them even greet you. They must recognize you from Cellular Shack. Only if they knew how you detest your job.
By the time you get to work, you're a few minutes late. Bob, one of the other sales rep you work with, glances at his watch and back at you.
"I'm late," you say before he even opens his mouth. He nods his head, folding his arms and shaking his head.
You never really understood why Bob obsesses over your lack of punctuality, sometimes even going as far as complaining to the manager about it. It's not like you care what time he comes in, or if he comes in at all. You know he wants you fired for a reason. The store manager just announced he would have to let someone go by the end of the month.
Nine o'clock marks the end of your shift, and you close up shop. You start your walk back home, and, in your way there, you stop at the canal bridge. You stare down at the dark waters. The moon is fully visible in the night sky. Behind you, you hear the sound of cars passing by. The canal water mesmerizes you, you cannot look away.
The bottom of the canal is a world without pain and suffering. A world without public ridicule and lonely tears. A world of eternal rest and peace. You lean over the railings, looking at the moons reflection combine with your own. You are you, but you are not you. You are someone else. Some one far away, yet close. You try hard to recognize the person you see. The person who's body you're trapped in.
You sort through the bleak memories in your mind trying to make sense of the reality surrounding you. For some reason, you feel that you lived another life before, and this is only a dream. You know the answer lies within the canal. The water patiently waits for you. Then, you hear a car horn behind you. You turn around, and you see a stranger's face.
The man sticks his head out the window. "Need a ride home?"
You nod, glancing at the canal.
"Yeah, sure."
Sitting in the car next to this man makes you feel awkward. The familiar sense of self-consciousness overwhelms you. You realize the man has been talking to you.
Slowly turning your head, you ask. " Can you repeat that?"
The man eyes fall on your mouth. He spotted your lisp. He smiles slowly and methodically.
"I asked why you were leaning so far over that railing. Thats not a very smart thing to do, not with all the drownings in the past few years."
You are not exactly sure what he's talking about. You can only think about one suicide due to someone leaping off a bridge five years ago. The bridge in question was the one crossing over the river. No one ever jumped into the canal.
He must see the confusion in your eyes because he starts laughing. "I'm not saying you were planning to kill yourself. I'm just saying it would be sad if someone as nice looking as you died that way," he is looking directly into your eyes now.
You turn forward and point to the green light. He steps on the gas. For some reason, he's annoyed. You can see it on his face, and you're relieved. Good, you think, maybe he'll stop trying to start a conversation.
Several minutes later, you stop at another set of lights. You sigh, internally. The man turns to look at you again.
"Why did you get in the car with me?"
You try not to look at him as you shrug.
He places his hand on your shoulder, then he slides it down to your breast and holds it there. You don't say anything. This scene is so blurry and vague that it reminds you of a dream. You're not sure if you're asleep.
"Do you want to park somewhere?"
You shake your head, and the car starts moving again. You know something bad is going to happen, but, as in a dream, there is nothing you can do to stop it.
The man unzips his pants, he starts stroking himself. You want to get out, you can feel the blood rushing to your head.
He watches you with the side of his eyes and extends his free hand to your face.
"Kiss it," he says.
"I'm a virgin," you confess.
A wry smile spreads across his lips."Really?" He removes his hand off your face and puts it on your leg
"Can I leave, please?"
" No, you started this, so you have to finish it." he is staring down at his penis.
You shake your head, frantically. " I don't want to."
He smiles, leans over and kisses your lips. You've never been kissed before. You feel disgusted.
"Don't." You beg as the man starts pulling your shirt up.
"You didn't wear a bra," he says, licking his lips.
"Please, don't hurt me," you say, tears forming in your eyes.
Minutes later, you feel him force himself inside of you, the veil has been lifted and torn. Your heart is covered with muck. Adrenaline courses through your veins. You feel, but you refuse to feel. Your mind hovers over your body watching the horror, numb to it all. Every second drags on. Did you die and become immortal? You feel a thousand years old.
The man releases his filth into you, pulling you up against him. He wants you to know he's in control. He calls the shots. In his eyes, you can see there is no more use for you. You are disposable. His hands tighten around your neck. You don't fight it. You wait for the last breath to squeeze out of you. Everything turns black. You are standing over the canal bridge again. But you know no one sees you. You look down at the deep abyss and smile. There is no such thing as doubt anymore. Fear is a thing of the past. Farewell, you say, falling into the canal's eternal embrace.
