Friends with Benefits

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THE DAY I INTERNALISE IT

When I was a little girl, my mother always told me never to walk down dark alleys, follow strangers around or wear provocatively. She told me about the hunters in the woods looking for an easy prey and I would like to think she groomed me to be a rather hard one to catch.

Even on the big screens, it seemed as though the first ones to be devoured were the dumber ones, the easier ones or so they said.

They filmed the catch with washed off mascara, wobbly knees and muffled screams as the fabric was torn to shreds.

But as I grew up I realised the hunter's trap has evolved with time.

At age 18, I realised it took more than just dark alleys, drunken strangers and a little more skin. Sometimes the highly skilled hunters made use of their own vulnerabilities to lure their prey in, holding them captive in the hunter's own cage of misery.

So Carter, to think you are just a friend. You walked out of the dark and you showed your face, the highly-skilled hunter my mother warned me about.

How many times do I have to count the "no" or the "please don't" for you to understand what it meant.

It seemed to me while you were quite a cunning hunter, you could barely comprehend the basics of English.

If I had pushed you off multiple times, begged you not to touch me. What made you think I wanted it all along?

Perhaps you thought I walked into your humble abode and that was an indication of consent. But I remembered refusing you and I remembered very clearly the words I said but somehow you always got on top of me.

So why does this aftermath feel a little different from the big screen?

Why am I not trembling in fear or refusing the touch of another human?

Why am I sitting here in my room, letting those footages replay in my head. trying to piece the snippets together and interrogating myself, wondering why I could not muster the voice to stop you.

If I had pushed you away and said no while you were on top Carter,

would you stop?

When you had Chloe your ex-girlfriend, even when I begged you not to.

You forced your way into me.

If I had said something while you were in the midst of slaughtering me,

would you stop?

I am losing sleep again and my head could barely rewind the tapes no more because I have come to a conclusion for people like you Carter.

All hunters are brutal, once the prey is in their grasp. There is no escape.

So tell me readers, what is consent to the hunter for him to release his prey?