Maybe Then...

Chapter 23: if I had listened

If I had listened to Daniel and my instincts,

Maybe then, I wouldn't have been left this way

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I spent Sunday morning with grandpa at church, as was our usual weekly occurance. I tried to hear what they had to say about the apostle Paul, but my mind kept drifting to the previous night's happenings. I mindlessly mumbled along to the hymns, thoughtlessly heard the sermon, and endured the usual greetings from family friends afterwards.

I forced my lips to curve into a pitiful smile while a few girls around my age stopped and said hi to me before their families dragged them in line for the potluck, as was a weekly tradition in our Baptist church. They started going on about various topics, trying a couple of times to involve me in the conversation. I only have short, vague answers. They weren't talking with me, though, So much as they were talking near me. I just effortlessly stood there for a couple minutes looking like I was part of the conversation.

They started to split up into their families when one of the girls, Grace, stopped and made eyecontact with me. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I said non-chalantly.

What was there to be okay about, though?

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I held my phone in my hands, staring at it while I tried to remember what I was doing with it in the first place.

Then it hit me: there are only a few hours until I go to work.

My stomach churned, and I wanted to cry. But I suppressed the tears, went into my contact list, and sent Robert a text with three words:

I quit. Sorry.

I didn't know how else to put it, and I didn't feel like telling him that his grandson touched me inappropriately therefore I didn't want to work with him.

He responded minutes later with a few texts, none of which I replied to, or even cared to read. I just glanced at them, and exited out of it. I then sent a group message to the guys telling them that I'm done with my week-long hiatus, and was willing to come back.

I was just scrolling through their replies when grandpa called my name. "Millie!"

"Yeah?" I hollered back.

"Your aunt and uncle are finally going on that date night, and I'm gonna head out to get you girls some Chinese food here in a moment. Keep an eye on Clarice, would ya?"

"Yeah." I heard some talking downstairs, followed by a door being shut. Some more talking between Clarice and grandpa, then another door shut a moment later. I tapped my fingers anxiously on my bed, my eyes flickering from one place on the ceiling to another as though I was looking for something. And I think that I was looking for something, but it wasn't something that I could find on the ceiling.

There was nothing that I could think of to distract myself, so I just let the thoughts come as self punishment. I watched in my peripheral vision, down from my chin, my chest rising and falling, rising and falling.

I kept replaying the incident over and over in my head, trying to figure out where I went wrong, or where I could have done something better.

Why didn't I fight back? Why did I just sit there and let him do it for so long before I actually tried to leave? Was I trying to reason with him to stop, or what?

Still my chest rose and fell, and
Rose
And
Fell,
And
Rose
And--

I sat up abruptly, my tapping fingers now feeling around on my bed for my phone. When is was in my grasp, I hastily turned it on, then went into my messages. I needed to tell someone, somebody I could trust with that secret, someone who would listen to me get it off of my chest. Haley.

I sent her out a quick message saying, hey, you got a sec? I really need someone to talk to.

Haley: actually kinda busy. But don't you have your boyfriend to tell things to? Talk to him, I'm sure he will listen. :) love ya.

I just stared at the words highlighted on the screen for a moment while my stomach tied into even more knots. My breath snagged like velcro from the sobs in my chest. Tears began to blur away the vision of reality until I was only left seeing thoughts and feelings.

And then I snapped.

I took the phone in my hand and threw it onto the bed, letting out a loud scream. I sucked in a sharp breath, then let out another scream, this time, a sob finally releasing as well.

I kept moaning and crying when Clarice walked in the doorway. "Millie? What's wrong?" she inquired in that sweet voice of hers.

I didn't even spare her a glance before turning to her and yelling, "GET OUT!"

She began to cry too, running back downstairs. "Mommy!" she called with fear in her trembling voice.

I looked at the doorway where she stood, sobbing harshly.

I shut and locked the door, returned to the bed, and drug my hands through my hair. "What have I done?" I breathed between fits of sobbing. "What have I become?"

I held my knees to my chest and kept tugging at the hair on my head, just crying. I just wanted to cry. I didn't want to face whatever difficulties were to come.

I didn't want to think.

I didn't want to think...

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Hey guys, I know that these past few chapters have been a little bit depressing, but I really wanted to show the raw, tough aftereffects of sexual assault.

What did you think of this chapter?

If you need help with problems like these, please, let someone know. There are resources available for you to take advantage of, and people that care about you. Love you.