The Edge of Reality

Chapter 23: The Silent Scar

One of the traits I was fast picking up in the days after my abandonment was spontaneousness. I planned out some events with friends, but a lot of the time I was just going with the flow, trying to get new experiences as they came up. One of these was when I found Matillo at the bus stop one evening after work.

"Tesha?" he said tentatively, unsure of whether he recognized me or not. "Tesha! Hi!"

"Hey Matillo," I smiled at him, and he went in for a bear hug. He was friendly... cool.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, grinning broadly.

"Just going home from work like I do every day," I said, almost annoyed. What else would I be doing?

"Me too," he said. "I usually don't take this one though. Do you want to hang out?"

"Uh, sure?" I said tentatively. I was pretty tired, but I would be mad at myself if I didn't make this effort to get to know someone else. "Where?"

"Maybe we could go to your house or something," he suggested. "My place is really far."

"I guess so, we could watch a movie or something," I agreed, just as the bus pulled up next to us. He spent half the ride there showing me pictures of some of his artwork- I knew he was an artist but I didn't know he was any good. I was really impressed with his work, and told him so. That seemed to make him really happy, because he hugged me again- it seemed he was a really touchy guy. However, he also felt really safe to be around- he was big without being fat, more on the muscular end of the spectrum. I became more comfortable around him by the time we reached my apartment- he was one of Ashika's friends, so I was okay with trusting him.

"Want to watch a movie or something?" I asked him. "There's some food in the kitchen too if you're hungry." I privately held pride in being able to say that- I'd never thought affording food to be a luxury, but here I was.

"Where's the TV?" he asked, laughing.

"It's-" shit. It was in Mara's old room. "It's in one of the bedrooms."

I led him in, and we both ignored the layer of dust covering all of the surfaces. I moved around some of the blankets and pillows on the bed to make it less noticeable how long the room had gone unused. Her smell was still embedded in the fabrics, and I pushed flashbacks of memories out of my mind as I turned on the TV to find Netflix somehow still paid for. Who was paying the bill? Who was paying for the apartment, for that matter? Nevermind that. I selected some random action movie at his advisement, and we sat back against the headboard silently. Neither of us said a word for the next two hours, but as the room grew pitch black I was aware of a weird tension in the room. I wrote it off as anxiety left in the ghost of the room, but it still steadily grew over the night. When the movie ended, I turned on the light and stood up stretching, ready to escort him out the front door but he didn't move.

"Hey, so the busses aren't running this late and I don't think I can get home," he said, hinting.

"Oh..." I trailed off, I guess I couldn't tell him to leave. "You can sleep here if you need to."

"Aw, thank you Tesha!" he grinned. "Do you want to watch another movie?" I'd been planning on leaving him there and going to my own room for the night, but he was so eager I couldn't refuse him.

"Sure," I smiled, turning off the overhead light and switching on a lamp as I sat back down. He was already playing some other action movie- I didn't really care for the genre but stayed to be polite anyway. About halfway through, I was getting really tired. I subtly swallowed an oxy and slid down the front of the bed into a more comfortable position and started dozing off. I could feel him stroking my hair and back; it was kind of weird, but I was too comfortable to mind. Really, it was kind of nice for someone to be there with me while I was sleeping- it had been a very long time. My consciousness faded for a while, and the next time I opened my eyes it was still night. The room was pitch black and the movie was over. Matillo was asleep next to me and... his arm was around me. I would have moved or gone to my own room, but I was too drowsy. I had found it peaceful at first, but I started feeling really uneasy about it. Without moving my torso, I reached over to my bag on the side table and took another pill, letting the euphoria wash me to sleep.

When my alarm went off in the morning, it woke both of us up. I was more groggy than usual from taking more of the drug than I should have, and kept hitting the snooze. He didn't try to go back to sleep though, I could tell because he kept stirring and sighing; he was still lying really really close to me. Again, I would have moved over or asked him to move but I was too out of it to do anything- maybe that meant I should take a sick day. I was just pondering this when he leaned over and kissed me.

It was so sudden. I was shocked by it, not sure how I felt. I didn't kiss him back, but he kept going, pushing his tongue into my mouth. I finally realized I didn't want this to be happening, and was going to push away but I couldn't get my muscles to move. And then he was on top of me, and if I couldn't move before I sure couldn't then. His hands were moving around my body, touching and groping unholy places. When he started lifting my shirt to take it off, I barely had the strength to push his arms away.

"No," I muttered weakly. He stopped tugging at my shirt but didn't stop touching me. It turned into a sickening game of me pushing him away and failing; even when I wasn't drugged I wouldn't have been stronger than him. He became more forceful and my whispered protests were lost in the moment. I couldn't move, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't speak. He started moving towards the lower half of my body, unbuttoning my jeans, and it was just enough for me to move away from him.

"I have to get ready for work," I said quietly, mustering all of my strength to stand up and stare at him. He sat at the end of the bed looking up at me with puppy eyes. The wheels were visibly turning in his head and I just stared at him, hoping that my face looked stern but knowing I just looked defeated. He finally got the hint and put his shoes on, stood up, kissed me on the cheek and left. When I heard the front door slam shut, I didn't give it a second thought as I went straight to my morning routine. I showered for 40 minutes, cleaning every inch of myself three times over. Maybe I cried, maybe I didn't. Tears don't count when you're already in water- that's what I told myself as I got out, anyway. Everything lingered at the front of my mind, but I refused to pay attention to the thoughts. I had wanted to stay home from work, but now that I was up I knew I had no excuse, so I left for the bus and went on my way the same as always. My routine was the same, and many of the people I saw were regular- same customers, same passengers on the bus. Something felt off, but the only thing that was different was me. That night I felt so hollow I couldn't sleep, so I propped up my phone next to me to play a sitcom. The same one I always watched with all of them. I wrapped my arms around myself and pretended that I wasn't alone. I wondered if what happened to me had been worth it for a night's break from sleeping alone; I decided that it was as I drifted off. A single tear streaked down my face in the last moments I remained awake, and I felt that it meant I had lost control.