“Fuck you, bitch!”
My mind is a frantic mess of emotions as I use his disorientation to run.
This was an awful mistake. One I’ll regret for the rest of my life.
But in order to do that, I have to run—
Chris grabs me by the ankle, but I kick him as hard as I can.
He’s bigger than me, though, stronger, and no amount of adrenaline can help me.
“Seems you chose violence, and I will deliver.” He crawls atop my frail, thrashing body and slaps me so hard, my head hits the ground with a thud.
My vision blackens out and white dots start forming in my head.
I think I have a…concussion.
What happens next is a blur of motions. I’m disoriented, and my body feels like it’s a different entity from mine.
The assault.
The violation.
The burning pain.
Sometimes, I think I’m lucky I don’t remember most of it.
I’m lucky I only remember lying on the ground after he’s done and thinking everything’s going to be all right.
I think I saw Astrid in the middle of it all, but I also saw Daniel coming to save me, so it was probably a play of my imagination.
I hope the blood that’s on my white dress is also a play of my imagination.
My body still feels like an alien entity as I crawl to the bathroom on my stomach. My nails break on the floor in my attempts to get there faster.
Or maybe they broke when I tried to scratch him. The stench of weed, cigarettes, and male musk clings to my skin, and I need it gone.
I also need the blood on my dress gone.
I need all of this gone.
It’s a compulsive reaction, a need to get rid of it all, which is why I crawl faster, break more nails and scrape my knees against the ground.
Once I’m in the shower, I strain to hit the water button.
Cold.
Like my soul.
I sit against the wall in my clothes and pull my knees to my chest.
I don’t cry, though. I don’t have the right to.
My eyes lift to the ceiling and I whisper, “Papa… Please take me with you.”
I spend hours under the spray of water until I think I’ll surely get pneumonia.
Then I scrub my body until it turns red and painful, but I still can’t get rid of his rotten smell.
Of the stench of cigarettes and weed.
No idea where I get the force to rip the bloodied white dress to pieces and change into a pair of jeans and a tank top, but I do.
I have to get out of here.
I have to forget.
My whole body shakes as I drive my car. I have to stop on the side of the road every five minutes to keep myself from hyperventilating.
But I don’t abandon my plan. I don’t turn around. I keep driving until I reach my destination.
Daniel’s house.
Or more like a mansion.
His family is loaded and since his father is somewhat eccentric—and a horrible parent to both Zach and Daniel—he designed the house in a peculiar way. From the outside, it seems like a dome donned with different geometric shapes of windows and doors.
As soon as I step out of the car, the heavens open, and heavy rain soaks me in a second.
I feel nothing, not the water and not my steps. I’m floating on air until I reach the gate.
Aunt Nora appears, holding an umbrella, and lets me in. She’s a short woman with dreamy gray eyes and a soft bone structure.
“Oh, dear. You’re soaked. Are you okay?”
I must look like an injured puppy caught in the rain, and while looking less than pristine would’ve bothered me on other days, it doesn’t now.
I don’t think it will ever again.
“I…I’m fine,” I breathe out, having trouble speaking past the lump that’s been in my throat for hours. “Is Daniel home?”
“Yes, I heard his car earlier. He’s probably in the guest house.”
The house that’s as far away from his parents as physically possible. I know that because he’s been telling Astrid that he’s going to move out as soon as he’s done with school.
“Can I go see him?”
“Sure…” I don’t wait for her to say anything as I storm past her.
“You should drive your car inside, Nicole,” she calls after me, but I don’t hear her.
I don’t even care about the car that I left unlocked on the side of the road.
My pulse roars in my ears as I walk, then jog, then break into a full sprint under the rain, letting it wash away the rotten stench that clings to my skin.
By the time I arrive in front of the pyramid-shaped guest house, I’m panting, my hair covers my eyes, and my clothes feel heavy sticking to my skin.
My fingers spasm as I hit the doorbell.
A few seconds later, a light comes on from the inside and the door opens.
I take my first real breath in hours the moment my eyes clash with Daniel’s.
He’s my safety. The person who always made me feel calm and happy and…me.
And maybe I went the wrong way to have him. Maybe I should’ve just told him that I like him and I’d wait until he liked me back.
I love you. I think I’ve loved you since we were kids. I know you think I’m a bitch, but that’s only because I don’t know how to express myself and I was taught to never show feelings. But I promise to change if you teach me how.
I open my mouth to say just that.
“Daniel, I—”
“What the fuck are you doing here?” There’s a slur in his speech, a troubled look on his face, and a dark gleam in his usually bright eyes.
They look gloomier than the gray sky and the pouring rain.
His fingers twitch and I’m not sure if it’s because he’s drunk or something else.
“I had to see you and tell you that—”
“You fucked Chris in your pool house? Astrid broke the news. Congrats and fuck off.”
“That’s not—”
He grabs a handful of my hair at the nape, stepping in the rain with me. His fingers are harsh, unforgiving, as he speaks so close to my lips, he’s almost kissing me. “I always knew you were a conniving, manipulative fucking bitch. Always. But I kept finding loopholes and conjuring excuses for you, kept thinking that maybe it’s your survival tactic after losing your father. I kept being drawn to you and seeing you and watching you, and it drove me fucking insane to even think of you as someone other than the bitch you were. And yet, I couldn’t help being attracted to you and wanting you more than my next breath. I’ve even abstained from fucking anyone else after that first night I had you.
“But now I realize it was all for nothing. The excuses, the twisted feelings, and my sappy thoughts that you’d change. Every. Fucking. Thing. You just like to toy with others, to manipulate them, then laugh in their fucking faces. Well, guess what, Nicole? I’m off that list, effective immediately. Don’t come near me, talk to me, or even look at me. I’ll pretend you don’t exist and erase the mistake of touching you from my head. From now on, you’re nothing.”
He releases me with a shove and I nearly fall to the ground. My tears mix with the rain and I don’t think he sees them. I don’t think he’s even seeing me right now.
But I crush my murdered pride and step toward him, my chin trembling. “D-Daniel…it’s not…not…what you think… Let me…”