Ravish

1

Be it not for the perfume I spray on my body, or the soap I used to cleanse my face; I believe our encounter was inevitable. Though, it was that same inevitability that lead to me feel so empty and broken inside. That occurrence that took a part of my soul and left me wounded. I felt as if everywhere I went people saw it on me as if I wore it like a Chiffon dress or as plain on my forehead. I hated to have to sleep, because I thought of you. I never ate, because the thought of that night killed my appetite. Every time I showered I had to use boiling hot water and scrub my skin until I it was the shade of rosy red, because I still felt dirty and worthless.

I can never truly begin to unveil the tale of that night. Whether it's because I can't admit to myself that everything was real and it actually happened, or because if I tried to begin what happened it would only come out in incomprehensible sobs. Sadly, that was how I had to face court. My lawyer said that crying in my defense, dramatically on stand, would help my case. What my lawyer couldn't piece together, though, is that I haven't stopped crying.

See, whether tears poured from my eyes or I was dry heaving, at the end of the day I always lied in bed with heavy eyes stained with tears, trying to piece together this mess of myself. That day in court, though. I cried especially hard, because I wasn't dealt my justice, and I couldn't do anything about it. I never forgot, no matter how hard I tried to. Support groups, therapists, psychiatrist, but nothing helped me cope. I sat so many days in my bathroom, hurling after crying for so long. I only wallowed in my own self pity because it seemed I was the only one who pitied me.

After that night, I resisted the urge to shower, forced myself to go the police station, and accept the reality of what I experienced. Vigorous hours of swabbing and testing and I just wanted to swallow a bottle of pills, and forget everything. I was happy until that night. That night I lost everything and not one person dare mumble any kind of empathetic phrase. See you would think after this was done I could just move on with life like I always did. That couldn't have been any more wrong.

After that experience, I had to pay for a medical examiner, and then I had to hire a lawyer to defend my case. Then I lost the case and you walked a free man, or a sad excuse for one. I also had a scholarship to a high end medical school, but you didn't know that did you? After that experience I had to have a meeting with their committee to decline their offer. As if it couldn't get worse I had no more excuses and had to go back to work, but I was still in no position to attend. So I was fired and was not available for welfare. Soon enough I would be evicted from home due to the fact that I was in debt and couldn't pay my bills. This is the part that breaks my heart, I had no one to lean on. After that night my family shunned me because I would soil their good name and they had revoked everything they paid for in my name. See you would think that after this I could just move on with life like I always did. That was completely wrong.

I lie in bed tonight, thinking the same things I've always thought since that night. I sit up and feel the breeze that blow through the window of the penthouse I now temporarily reside in. I had a couple thousand dollars left in my savings, and I approximated that it would last me two or three months. Something was odd about this night, that didn't feel like any other. I wanted to hit the town and live my life again. I didn't know what there was to do at 4 in the morning anymore, I never had many friends. I liked being by myself. Sure, I made friends and good relationships with my coworkers, but I never had a Zack Morris and Screech Powers, or Cory Matthews and Shawn Hunter, type of relationship with anyone.

I stand and start pacing around my bedroom. Soon I'm pacing around my home. Suddenly I hear my alarm clock go off, it was 7:30. I sigh, and go to get ready. Sometimes I wonder why I bother with my daily routine, I'm not going anywhere. My therapist says a foundation to my daily life can help me find more stability, but I just feel like I'm wasting my time with it. Nonetheless, I still take a shower and do my hair and brush my teeth. Since my parents took back everything they bought me, that means I no longer have a car. So here I am, walking to the bus stop at eight so I can go to my therapist. Taking a seat on the rustic public transportation, I hope I don't look like I died. I've been on this bus before, and many people mostly men, on multiple occasions asked if I was healthy.