Confessions of a Queen Bee

18

It turns out Nora had the flu, and therefore I had an easy excuse to tell the girls why I wasn't coming in that Friday. Everyone thought I had the flu, and I was actually inundated with get well messages from random people from school.

Not random, friends I guess, cheerleaders, people I used to talk to. 

I slept the entire day Friday, I ignored everyone's messages, partially by accident. I didn't even think about checking my phone. Saturday was pretty similar, I rested and caught up on some tv I wanted to watch. I checked my phone and replied to the girls on our group chat, just letting them know I was good and that I hoped Nora was ok. I didn't reply to Jackson. I don't really know why.

I feel bad for ignoring his message but I just don't want to be reminded that I'm not ok.

My mum said that the family now know. That Layton's mum and dad know what he did to me. I heard my parents talking on Sunday morning about how they don't think Luca knows but they weren't sure whether his parents had decided to tell him or not. Mum lied when I asked and told me that Luca didn't know. 

Now I'm stuck with the idea that they lie to me about things all the time.

The case is cold until the police manage to find Layton. They want to actually find Layton and then carry out the other interviews apparently. They're going to have to talk to Jayden and the people who saw me go into that room with him. The police are worried that even with the forensic evidence because people saw that I went into the room voluntarily that Layton's defendant will use that as a perceived act of consent.

Layton knows that I said no. He knows what he did to me. He ran away from it in fact.

I can't see him being able to look me in the eye and lie. But I suppose I never expected all this in the first place.

I had to go to the psychiatrist on Monday. I was surprised when it was a guy that greeted me in his office this morning. For some reason, I just had the impression that a PTSD specialist, trained in the area of sexual assault was going to be a woman. 

The guy told me that the flashback episode I had, is one of the most intense forms of 'involuntary recurrent memory'. He said that my reaction to it was extreme but not out of the ordinary. He also reassured me that this shouldn't be something that now happens to me all the time. That he can't say it will never happen again, but to treat it as a one-off for now.

I liked this guy because he was very black or white. He asked questions, but he always anticipated the way it would make me feel and was prepared for that.

He says this hopelessness I feel right now is temporary and I had to try and come up with ways to fall back in love with living.

I don't think I was ever in love with living though.

...

Waking up, Tuesday morning I try and put myself in a positive mood. Today was going to be fine. Nobody at school will give you grief. Luca knows nothing. You have your favourite lessons today.

I have art and English literature. I really am not that interested in either, but they're my least dreaded ones. God, I need to be positive. They're great, they will be fun.

English literature fun?

Anyway, I throw on a pair of jeans and a comfy jumper on. It's the beginning of spring here, and although the sun's shinning, it's still pretty cold in the shade.

"Ivy, how are you feeling about going in today?" My dad asks as I sit at the breakfast bar.

Grabbing for some toast, I smile reassuringly at them both. I burst into tears yesterday at breakfast when they asked me how I felt about going to school. Rumour has it I never made it to school.