My name is Elisabeth Ann Monroe. You may not know it by looking at me, but I've been falling apart for quite a while now. Everyone takes one look at me and is fooled by my appearance. According to society, I'm beautiful. Bullshit if you ask my opinion, but nobody ever does.
I stare in the mirror. Is that really me?
My long black hair hangs just above my waist. I'm in desperate need of a hair cut. These split ends drive me insane. The one thing I like about myself is my eyes. One eye is green, the other is a dull brown. Makes me unique. Also makes more people notice me. Ew.
I hate people. Really I do.
Freshman year, things were different. I was happy. Legitmately happy. Everyone loved me and it all felt great. Then the incident happened.
Everything changed.
I lost everything that meant something to me.
My so called friends stopped calling. Stopped looking me in the eye. Stopped caring.
And when everyone else stopped, so did I.
The oblivion began.
I was fucking fourteen.
What did they really expect?
That I would willing admit that I was sexually abused? Who would really believe me?
Especially since my rapist is Zeke Matthews.
Zeke Matthews. Star Quarterback.
Asshole.
Oh he still notices me.
Every time he sees me, he winks. I want to vomit just thinking about it.
And that fucking wink. Makes me want to slip out of my skin.
That's what I get. For going to a high school party where everyone would be drinking.
Maybe I deserved what I got. I really don't know.
All I remember was..
"Hey haven't I seen you around?" He said to me as I sipped a wine cooler. I rolled my eyes.
Not interested. GO AWAY, my brain screamed.
"Probably," I mumbled not really wanting to talk.
He grinned. And sat next to me.
God no.
He smelled like he showered in Axe bodyspray.
Ew. What a fucking tool.
When he asked me to dance, I should have said. I should have gone home.
But something about him was dangerous. Exciting.
So I took a chance.
Dancing with him was amazing. I felt like the prettiest girl in the room. All eyes were on me.
After the music died down, Zeke lead me upstairs.
Why did I go with him? Maybe the alcohol in my system made me think that nothing would happen.
I believed that he was a geniune good guy and all. I believed the lie.
We got to an unoccupied bedroom. He locked the door.
Then took my hand leading onto the bed.
It started off slow. Just kissing. The usual thing "couples" dp.
Then it got rough. He reached under my shirt.
AND FUCKING GROPED MY BOOB.
Like what the fuck?
How is that even supposed to be a turn on?
It hurts, ok. No.
"Stop it," I whispered. No longer wanting to there at all.
He smirked at me and kept groping. "You know you want me,"
No I didn't. Fuck. STOP IT MEANS STOP. Jesus fucking Christ.
I shoved him away. "NO."
"Bitch, I wasted my night on you and I plan on getting something out of it." he forcefully lays on top of me.
He must've weighed like 200 fucking pounds because I couldn't move.
I was frozen. Terrified.
I'll stop there because those memories just make me want to bleach my brain..
