The phone rang, and she rolled out of bed in order to glance at the caller ID. It was him, and within seconds, she was wide awake and ecstatic. Her voice did not hide her excitement, nor did the smile that she had plastered across her face. No one could see it, no one was there; but she could not keep from smiling anyways.
She knew what he’d called for, but she questioned his motives anyway. “What are you calling for so late? Damn!” She asked, faking an aggravated tone. In his head, he was laughing. He knew there was no need for an explanation.
“I’m coming to get you.” Click. The phone went dead, and she instantly began to race around the room, throwing on a nicer outfit, planning an escape route, and stuffing pillows under her comforter in order to give the impression that she was still innocently asleep.
She crept down the hall, slowly unlocked the front door, and tip-toed outside. As soon as she’d made her way into the night, she began to jog down the street. There was no need to jog; he would have picked her up right in front, but she always felt the urge to get away quickly. Once she was out, she was gone.
His car began to come into view, creeping down the street towards her. Her stomach dropped, her smile faded. This is what she’d thought she’d wanted, but why did she always get a stomach ache when she knew her wants could be fulfilled? Why did she always jog down the street, and then want to jog straight home when his car came around the corner?
She looked up at the sky, attempting to find a star, but there were none. She closed her eyes and wished that she was back in bed, keeping warm under a mound of blankets, and feeling safe within the presence of her home.
The car stopped in front of her, and she hesitated before pulling on the door handle. “Your chariot awaits. Hurry your ass up, get in!” She slid into the seat, slammed the door shut, and folded her arms in her lap as the car sped away. She knew where they were going, and she knew what they were going to do. Sadly, she had set herself up for the situation.
He unlocked his door, and led the way downstairs. She sat on the edge of his bed, looking up at him with pleading eyes. If he would have cared to look back, he would have been able to read her mind.
“Please, let’s not do this. Let’s just talk, play video games, watch a movie. Please, don’t make me do this. Don’t pressure me, I really don’t want to. Please, just look at me, get to know me, respect me.”
He pulled a small box out of his drawer, and sighed when he realized it was empty. “Shit, I forgot to get more.” Finally, he looked back at her, also with pleading eyes. If she would have had the courage to look into them, she would have read his mind.
“Please, let’s just do this. Don’t make me talk to you, or ‘hang out’ with you. Please, let’s just get things done. Don’t question me, or get worried, because I really don’t want to wait. Please, just look at me, don’t make me beg, just let me.”
She was too busy looking at the floor, blinking back a tear to notice. Without a word, she laid back and pulled a blanket over top of her. As if with animal instinct, he slipped off his shoes, crept under the covers, and assumed the position. Within a moment, he was unbuttoning her pants, kissing her neck, touching her all over.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to get up and run out of the room. She wanted to deck him in the face, and tell him to stop - forever. Sadly, she’d lost her voice long ago. She’d lost her voice the first time she gave in, and every time that followed, she grew further and further away from getting it back again.
Afterwards, he tossed her things onto the bed. “There you go, let’s get going.” She slipped them on, feeling completely embarrassed and uncomfortable dressing in front of someone she’d been naked with many times before. They got into the car, drove silently towards her house, and stopped at the corner, where she’d first met him. She turned her head, and for one brief moment, their eyes met.
He could not bear to look her in the eye afterwards, he hated that more than anything. He put on a fake smile and gently kissed her on the lips. “Goodnight.” She stared for a moment, with a blank look upon her face, and opened the door.
“Night,” she whispered, then she turned and jogged away. Jogging turned into running, and running turned into a full fledge sprint. She had no reason to run, her mother never woke up, and even if she knew she‘d left, she would only get lectured. However, it was almost as if she needed to. As if she had to. She was running for her life, and she was running away from it.
She slowly opened the door, crept inside, and tip-toed into her room. Once again, she stripped out of her clothing and into her comfortable pajamas. She wrapped her comforter around her, and began to cry herself to sleep. Why did she do it? Why had she ever done it? It wasn’t nice, not this way. It wasn’t anything but terrible.
She was still a girl, but one who’d tried to grow up too fast. All she could do was look at the past and wish it would come back to her. The present was something she avoided thinking about, and the future even more so.
Why had God taken away the stars, when she had needed them the most? Why had she lost her voice, when she had been so desperate to speak out? Why would she do it again, when she hoped with all her heart, that this time was the last?