Ravish

3

 I don't know what felt worse, the fact my mother barely accepted what was happening, or how my father seemed like he could never face it. His face was stressed and angry, and I could see the hard lines on his chiseled face stand out. I couldn't read his face or body language, the room was just tense. At a moment like this I couldn't help but to think back to the night my life was ruined...

His name was Joseph, and we had been friends in high school. I met him my junior year he was senior, but we talked even after he graduated. I trusted him once, but we fell off a month before I graduated. He was a star football player at his college and respected by everyone. It was a month before I started college that he called me. He mostly talked about me, it was a nice thought. I didn't know how to feel about it, I thought it was just so innocent. We had continued to talk for two weeks after that phone call, I remember the night so perfectly.

Joseph sent me a text inviting me to a party, he said that he would never leave my side. I've been to parties before and I enjoy them for the most part, so I took him up on the offer. I waited for him to pick me up the following weekend. I should've reconsidered getting in that car, given the fact that he seemed intoxicated; I ignored my judgements, though. I felt that because I was able to trust him in the past, that I could trust him like I once had. That was wrong. He drove past the speed limit and almost crashed the car when he came to a stop at the house. He got out the car and rushed towards the passenger door as to let me out.

When I had stepped out the car though, he grabbed my wrist and held his arm tight around my waist. Dragging me along the pathway to the door, his grip still firm. I felt extremely uncomfortable. Hours went by, and he eventually pulled me aside.

"Wendy," he said with a long slur, "I'm feeling really tired, can you go put me to bed up here?" he finished with an odd stutter.

"Why don't we just go back to my place? Maybe, did you want to go back to yours?" I ask him, seeing as I was in a more appropriate stage to drive. He looked up at me then suddenly looked back down. He looks tense and concerned, almost as if he wanted to get sum of his chest.

"Let's go back to your house." he says uncertainly. He stands up and hands me his car key. As soon as he tries to walk he stumbles, and I struggle to catch him before he falls. Helping him back up, I walk him to his car and assist him inside. I buckle his seatbelt and went around the car to the drivers side. Entering, I start his car and readjust the driver's seat. It's a 20 minute drive from the location of the party to my house.

..."Wendy!" I'm taken out of my thoughts when I the uproaring voice of my very nettled father. "We told you to never make contact with us, and after all this nonsense with the lawyers, therapist, and whatnot. You need to leave."

"Why should I leave?" I ask.

He looked at me incredulously, as if it was impossible to fathom the idea that 'daddy's little girl' would ever defy him. The man tripped over his own tongue, "This is not your property, you have no right to be here." he says with the clench of his jaw.

"I can't visit my mother?" I say venomously.

"I thought we made it clear you weren't to make contact with us." he spits back.

"No, you didn't, but if I have to tell you the same thing I told mom so be it. I'm tired of this dad. I miss you guys even after everything you put me through."

"Everything we put you through." he says hysterically, "Wendy you brought this on yourself and we want no part in it."

"Oh shut up, David!" I hear my mother shout, "I want my little girl back, why don't you?"

"What suddenly changed your mind? What is it Jessie?" he argues back.

"I want my daughter back, can't you at least try to understand what she's been through? She needs us, she needs someone to depend on." my mother says.

"It wouldn't have happened to her in the first place if she wasn't so trusting of other people."

"How can you say that? Have you ever considered she may have these trust issues because there wasn't a stable family foundation? Look where we are David! We're back to where we've always been, fighting, over what exactly?" she does her best to defend while I sit helplessly, clueless about what to do.

"Jessie, we'll talk about this later, but right now she needs to get out of my house." my dad says determinately.

"No, there never is any talking with you! David I am sick of this." my mother's voice is worn out and tears begin to stream down her cheeks, "I'm sorry David, but this isn't your house, and if you're willing to help your own daughter; I need you to get your things and leave."

"Like hell, who are you to kick me out of my own house?" my father shouts.

"I am the woman who pays these bills, while you sit on your ass, drinking your life away at that damn bar when you say you're 'working'." my mother stands tall above my father regardless if she actually shorter than him. "That's your choice."

If looks could kill, I'd be afraid for my mother; because at this moment my father's face was hard with a glare like daggers.

"That won't be a problem, Jessie. I think you made it clear who's more important." my father looks at me and I look down. He pushes past me and stomps upstairs.

My mother and I remain in the kitchen, the silence we share is almost deadly. I look up at her and notice her face. Not just the fact that she looks sad, but she looked like I did when this mess first started. Whether I should or shouldn't, I felt guilt that made me want to die. My mother just left the man she loved for me. I was left just as speechless as her.

"Mom." I say with a crack in my voice, both of our faces are drained.

"It'll get better, right honey?" she looks at me pained, "I made your favorite, fruit salad with baked chicken." she smiles weakly as she sets my plate on the dining table.