leaked (l.h.)

15

It was overwhelming at first, the amount of cops that surrounded me as I told them what happened. The pregnancy tests, the rape kit. I didn't think of it as rape until now, and as I twiddle with my thumbs while I watch the lights flash through my windows as my Mom waves goodbye to the detectives that come at least twice a day. They know my case like the back of their hands, but for some reason they still find a reason to come interrupt me from whatever it is I'm doing to get my mind off of my situation. I wish I could be left alone, without reminders of the last week or so. But every little detail I remember gives them yet another reason to put Tyler behind bars, so it's worth it.

The loud sound of an early summer thunderstorm breaks the silence that had once filled this living room, and the rumbling of the house does nothing more than soothe me even more. I've always loved the rain and the thunderstorms that come with warm weather. 

"Are you hungry, sweetie?" My Mother asks as she leans on the back of the couch I sit on. She crosses her arms, smiling warmly as she watches me scan through sheet music I had found somewhere in my room. My theatre portfolio, reminding me of what Tyler and Arzaylea had made me forget. Auditions for the fall musical aren't until August, but with each song I had saved from past productions makes me more want to get involved again. 

I have not spoken to Arzaylea since she grabbed me in the hallway. My Mom told me that she was the one who brought me home after I had passed out at Tyler's. She knew what had happened, yet she said nothing. So I have no desire to speak with her.

And even if I wanted to, I had locked my phone away sometime after I had given it to the detectives as evidence. I don't want to see the taunts and slander that has inevitably came with Tyler's abuse, although everyone has already found out about what he had done one way or another. High school is ruthless. 

"A bit," I say, sitting criss-cross on the sofa in the living room. To be honest, my appetite has yet to come back. But I need to eat. 

"I'll make us some sandwiches. You seem to like those." she smiles, raising her eyebrows as she realizes what I am going through. "Oh, wow. I remember these."

She reaches down to pick up a piece of music that I had forgot existed. My first solo song in high school, my first standing ovation. I was a Freshman who had scored the lead in the Fall musical. That was unheard of, but I did it. 

I sing quietly as I look down at booklet on my lap, flipping through pages of shows that I have been in and want to participate in. I used to be so dead-set on being on stage the rest of my life. But somewhere I had left that part of me behind. I had left a lot behind. 

My Mother had been staying home from work more often that she ever has, mostly because she's terrified of me being alone. And I get it, I remember what almost happened if she hadn't interrupted me a few Thursdays ago. I'm grateful she's here. Because at least I'm not alone. At least I'm distracted. 

"Oh, someone is here," she raises her eyebrow, watching out of the window in front of us. "Is that one of your friends?"

"Probably not," I shake my head, still engulfed in the treasure I had found. I don't have friends anymore. It is lonely, but I'm okay. I can be on my own if I have to be, but I don't want to. 

"Jesus Christ," she moves to her feet as she walks to the door. "Who the hell would walk in this weather?" 

"What?" I ask, closing the book as I watch her walk towards the door. "Someone walked here?"

"Hi." I hear my Mom say from where I sit on the couch. The rain outside is louder than ever now that the front door is open, filling the house with the humidity and warm air that pours inside. "May I help you?"