only yours | gxg

「16」

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T A C I T U R N

(a). Reserved or uncommunicative in speech; saying little.

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Fifteen minutes stretched on for what felt like eternity.

Each second that passed was seared with pain, anger, frustration, upset. But only towards myself. I couldn't feel any resentment to anyone but myself in this predicament.

"It's not your fault." I'd expect people to say exactly those words if my situation was realised. "He's the bad person." Yet, I involved myself with him. It was my decision, my character, my agreement and consent to being in a relationship with him in the first place. Maybe, if I had entertained him less back then. Maybe, if I was horrible he wouldn't have been interested in the first place.

"You couldn't have known." Those words also wouldn't help. I didn't know, I had no idea what I had roped myself into. That only makes me stupid and blind. I made a mistake that would haunt me forever. Burned scars into me that could never be concealed. I don't feel like a victim, I feel like I brought this onto myself.

Minutes of sobbing, accepting that I deserved everything that came my way. Accepting that I trusted him too much all those years ago to let him come into my life, not knowing the kind of man he is. That I told myself, 'there is no escape', yet I called for help from someone I barely know. I had it in me the whole time to call for help. I could escape, after all this time, I'm getting support from a person I had just met. If I knew I could call Raven that easily to save me, why did I not ask for help from anyone sooner?

I felt stupid. Utterly and entirely stupid. It was my fault. My decisions led to this. Now, I laid on the floor with every drop of blood spilling beneath reminding me of how I just passed my trust onto someone I didn't know well. Like I hadn't learned my lesson - like I was perpetually stuck as a damsel in distress. Natural selection seemingly chose me. A stupid girl who stupidly trusted a man, just to stupidly pass that trust onto someone else she had just met. At this point, if I were to be used again, I'd accept it wholeheartedly.

In fact, I urged it. Murder the person I was, destroy my identity and force me to accept the consequences of my foolish actions. I felt myself craving to be used, to be the prey to the next person I trusted, just so that I wouldn't expect anything less than betrayal and hurt from anyone anymore.

Fifteen minutes had passed, and my body shook with anticipation and fear as the loud thud of the front door slammed against the wall.

"Alyson." Raven called out, her voice forceful; her tone was calm. I admired her strength. To be able to arrive at a damning scene - knowing from my pleas over the phone that I'd be painted with my crimson fluid - with such coolness. Natural selection chose me as prey, and her as an apex predator. If only I was less weak, like her. But I couldn't change nature.

I heard footsteps thud on the ground, quick yet heavy. I learnt this day that footsteps could convey tone and emotion, envisioning the rage clouding Raven's mind as each step she took quaked beneath her.

I couldn't speak, couldn't move. Alongside the pain coursing through my fragile body, I felt an overwhelming sense of fear at Raven's aggressive behaviour. Despite knowing she was coming to save me, each rumbling sound of her movement created an intoxicating mist that spread through the apartment, mimicking Chris' presence.