Unwanted Change

Chapter Six

I disorientatatedly awoke in my room the next morning.

"What?" I mumbled, confused as I tried to remember the events of how I was laying here in my bed. 

Thoughts of the night before came rushing back into my memory and I cringed, curling into a fetal position. When I glanced at the clock, it read 8:11; and when I look back again it read 9:58. I had been staring numbly at my wall for almost two hours. I kept trying to push every thought away that came into my mind.

I didn't get up, I didn't want to move.

My eyes wandered from the wood flooring, baby blue walls covered in photographs to the succulents on my windowsill and desk. After a while my mom softly knocked on the door.

"Good morning, Theo," She greeted, "It's time to get up."

I stared at her for a moment before nodding. I got my brown hair from her, except now at her age, it was thinner than mine. Her green eyes were one of the few traits that I didn't share from her. I gradually swung my legs off the bed and silently followed her down the stairs into the kitchen. Eggs were made as well as my favorite oatmeal. She placed a plate in front of me. 
I wasn't hungry, but I didn't want to hurt my mom's feelings. I forced myself to eat a few bites, but could hardly choke them down. I pushed my bowl away from me after a few tries and lay my head on the table. 

"Is that it?" My mom questioned, referring to my lack of eaten food.

"Yeah," I answered, fiddling with the string on my pajama ants. 

"Theophelia Margot Herman," She urged, her eyebrows pointed upward, "You have to eat more than that."

"I can't, mom." I mumbled. 

She reluctantly nodded her head, giving up the fight as she picked up my bowl and began to eat the remains.

"Do you want talk about it?" She asked slowly, worry etched on her face. She sat down at the table across from me and waited for my answer. 

"No," I answered simply.

 I was trying with everything in me not to even think about it. The last thing I wanted to do was talk about how I was raped. The last thing I wanted to do was think about anything. I just wanted to lay in bed and be alone. 

"Okay, honey," She murmured as she got up to wash the dishes. As she was walking to the sink, she stopped by me to stroke my cheek.

"Oh what did he do to you?" She whispered, heartbrokenly as she softly touched my bruised eye. I cast my face down and mentally pushed every thought away

Don't think, don't think, I thought.

She removed her hand from my face, taking the warmth in one swift motion. She then made her way over to the sink full of dishes.

I watched her from the table as she scrubbed a pot. Her hands were rough and wrinkled - signs of a hard worker. Creases lined her skin on her face, although there weren't that many. She had a youthful look to her despite her age. 
I stood up from the table after a few moments. 

"I'm going to shower," I mentioned to my mom as I got up from the table. 

I began to slowly climb up my steps to the bathroom that adjoined my room. I walked past the pictures on the walls and stared at them for a moment. There were family photos of my mom and dad and all of us kids. I have two brothers and a sister. My eldest brother Aspen lives out of state with his wife, Rose. Aspen was 25 and had moved away two years ago. I love him dearly, but I only see him and Rose on holidays. My sister, Talia is 19 and just left for college this year. The youngest of all of us is Jack and he's 16. Jack and I were the only kids left who still lived at home. We are the two youngest of all of us siblings and also the closest in relationship. We have a strong bond. The reason he wasn't home today is because he stayed the night at one of his friend's house after the football game. 

I wonder if mom or dad told him about what happened to me yet, I wondered painfully. 

We stood in the picture, smiling and laughing at something my dad had said. The picture had been taken when we were younger, still growing into our skin.

Oh, how I wish I could be carefree and happy again, I thought with a pang hitting my heart. 

I finally reached the bathroom. Turning on the water almost as hot as it could go, I stepped in. I scrubbed and scrubbed at my skin, but no matter the amount of soap I used, I still felt unclean.

Dirty.
Unpure.

I sat on the floor of the shower as the steaming droplets pounded on my skin like acid, just staring at the tiling. I wanted to cry. I wanted to release all the numbness that had crept into my mind and just sob, but I couldn't. No tears came out no matter how hard I tried. 
When I finally began to climb out, 30 minutes had passed. My fingers were pruned up as I turned off the nozzles. 

My eyes caught my reflection in the long mirror as I stepped out. I looked at the girl who stared back at me.
I shouldn't have. 
Bruises were layered all over my body, and I winced at my own image. I quickly look away before wrapping a towel around myself. When I re-entered my bedroom, a waft of cold air met my skin. My phone dinged, sounding of a notification. I hadn't checked my phone since the football game. I pulled on a clean pair of pajamas even though it was still daytime. I didn't care. 
I picked up the phone that was on my dresser, and then sat on my unmade bed. I had a ridiculous number of texts.

First I opened Ian's,
How are you doing? (sent 8:12 pm this morning)

Fine. I replied. 

I wasn't trying to be mean, but I just didn't want to think or talk about anything. I then began to open Elaina's texts.

Hey where'd you go? (sent 8:15 pm last night) 

Theo, where the heck are you? You can't just leave Daniel alone with us. (Sent 8:46 last night)

5 missed calls. 

Theo, I'm starting to get really worried. Are you alright? (Sent 11:55 last night)

Oh my gosh, bb, I'm so sorry. Ian and your mom just told me what happened. (sent 12:14 this morning)

I don't know what to say. (Sent 1:35 am this morning)

I love you, how are you doing? (Sent 8:54 this morning)

I'm on my way over (sent 5 minutes ago)

I groaned aloud, laying back down on my bed as I came to the realization that she was currently driving to my house. Since she only lived 15 minutes away, she would be here soon. 
She was going to want to talk. She was going to want to ask me if I was okay. I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want to remember those wretched bleachers. I want to forget everything that happened last night. 
I want to scrub my mind clean, just like I had scrubbed my body clean in the shower.
But I was too large to crawl inside my brain and tell it to shut up.