Choice

by Kennedy, Allison J.

  “Impressive,” I said, surprised that I meant it. “So why poetry? You don’t seem like the creative type.”

  “I don’t know, really. It’s just always sort of been my escape from reality.”

  “Your reality can’t be that bad,” I said, unconvinced.

  He looked at me, hazel eyes sad and serious, though still dilated beyond belief. “If only you knew.”

  The weight of his stare forced me to look away, but I still felt it burning into the side of my face. “Sorry to hear that.”

  He shrugged and rested his head against the mattress, looking up at the ceiling. “It’s fine. If you think I’m a jerk, you should meet my dad. He blames it on his seizures. Says he has a short fuse. And my mom defends him, but you know? She’s just as bad as he is. Sometimes I feel like I haven’t made a single choice for myself my entire life.”

  “I know that feeling, in a way.” I looked at him, feeling a little bit of the tension between us breaking away. “But at some point you have to make your own choices and accept the fact that your parents might be disappointed in you.”

  “See, I get that. I do. But it’s not that easy, O’Hara. I have the worst luck; always have. Some people wing it and their life goes according to plan. And it would be my luck that I’d stand up to my dad and then he’d die or something. Choke on his own vomit.” He almost sounded like he wanted that to happen.

  I didn’t know what to say, but I tried to come up with something remotely adequate. “My mom is convinced I’m a lost cause. I don’t think she’s ever really tried to be a parent. She’s exerted all of her efforts onto my sister because she knows I’m too much of a pain in the ass to worry about.”

  “At least you’re on the other end of the spectrum,” he smirked. “It’s other stuff too. But you don’t want to hear the boring details of my sob story.”

  “I don’t mind,” I sighed. “It’s better than being downstairs in that swarm of filth.”

  He laughed, examining me. “I’m just glad you showed up.”

  It wasn’t so bad anymore, I had to admit. Tolerable, at least. I nodded awkwardly and hugged my knees to my chest.

  He was still smiling, but his gaze relented, and he relaxed against the bed. “Are you a bird or a fish?”

  “A what?”

  “A bird or a fish,” he said, looking at me again while he emphasized each word. “You know, do you swim on the ocean floor with the swarms of those who understand you? Or are you a bird, who flies where you want, when you want, taking control and soaring with independence? There’s nothing wrong with either. I’m a fish, myself.”

  “Huh,” I said, tilting my head to the side. “I’d have to say I’m a bird then.”

  He nodded. “I like being a part of the crowd. In every crowd, there’s a hierarchy. Just because you’re swimming as part of the crowd, it doesn’t mean you don’t stand out on your own. But you seem like the type that would take the world by storm and do it mostly on your own.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  The noise from the party downstairs swelled obnoxiously and Tyler stood up. After closing the door, he returned to his spot. “I’ve seen you at school. Sure, you have your close friends, but you generally don’t care about what anyone thinks of you.”

  “Yes. I think you’re right.”

  He looked at me for a long moment. “You know, you have really pretty eyes.”

  That uncomfortable feeling surged through me again. “Thank you. So do you.”

  It happened so quickly that I didn’t have time to react. He leaned forward and kissed me. I gasped, breaking away from him. “Tyler,” I began, watching his dilated eyes as they examined every part of my face. I scooted an inch or so away. “I don’t feel that way about you.”

  He looked down at his lap, exhaling an embarrassed laugh. When he looked at me again, he was struggling, almost as if he didn’t know how to look at me, or what to say.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, glancing at the door. It was so far away.

  “You know, I’m really not so bad.” He brushed the backs of his fingers down my bare arm, eliciting goose bumps which, judging by the grin that lit his face, he assumed were from pleasure.

  My heart lunged into a furious tempo. I began to stand up, not even feeling my body move until he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back down onto the floor. “Don’t leave,” he pleaded. “Come on, May. Just stay.”

  I looked down at his grip on my wrist, hearing my pulse in my ears. “Please let go.”

  He looked down at my wrist as well, his eyes narrowing. He almost released me, but then his grip tightened. “No. I’m sick of this.”

  I swallowed. “What are you sick of?” I was trying to think of ways to keep him calm when everything inside of me screamed to fight free from his grasp.

  “Everything,” he snapped, jerking me towards him so that our faces were inches apart. “I’m tired of trying to be what I’m not. I’m not nice, May. I’m not what everyone thinks I am.”

  I was trembling. This situation was quickly escalating and I needed to figure out a way to stop it before it went any further. Tyler was all over the place; unpredictable. It was like he had two voices fighting in his head. “I think you’re nice,” I said carefully. “I like you, Tyler. I do. It’s just that . . . I don’t want to get involved with anyone right now.”

  He scowled. “Do you think I want to get involved with you?”

  I inhaled unsteadily, trying to keep him from seeing the fear in my eyes. Everything inside of me was coming to a standstill, even my ability to think. I was losing track of how to respond to this. What was I supposed to say? Was I supposed talk him down? Was I supposed to run? “You’re so well liked by everyone. You know that, right?”

  “I don’t care about that. Haven’t you ever wanted to break the rules? You are a bird, after all.”

  “Yes,” I nodded eagerly. “I want to break the rules. What rule are you wanting to break?”

  His grip loosened fractionally, but his body was still rigid.

  “What do you want?” I asked again, hoping I could get through to him.

  “I want you,” he breathed, the alcohol on his breath washing over me.

  I shuddered, breathing slowly and deliberately so that I wouldn’t hyperventilate. “Please, just let me go. This isn’t you.”

  My words made him snap. He slammed his mouth against mine so hard that my lip split on my teeth. I tried to wrench myself away, but he was too strong. In a mere second, he had me pinned down on the floor, his legs braced over mine to keep me from kicking him. “Stop moving,” he growled, slapping my face. He looked at his hand in awe of what he’d just done.

  My cheek burned. I started to scream, but he clamped his hand over my mouth. Time stopped. Even though I fought, and even though I begged, he forcefully dragged me onto his bed and shoved my dress up. His shaking hands fumbled with my underwear, tearing them like frail paper. With one hand he held my mouth closed, and with the other he ripped a condom wrapper with his teeth. A few seconds later, pain shot through me like a port directly into my veins. I sobbed against my bent arm, staying still because I had no other choice.

  When it was over, he roughly pulled my dress back into place and fixed his clothing. He paced the floor for a long time, squeezing the spot between his eyes. “What did I do?” he said beneath his heaving breath.

  I started to slip off of the bed to escape, but he faced me at that moment. His eyes were wild and confused. My heart stuttered and froze.

  And then he disappeared without another word to justify what he had just done.

  Four

  Now

  THE WIND WHIPS my face as I sit on a blanket, peering out over the ocean from my place on Agate Beach. The sun is setting and its rays ripple across the waves as they beat the sandy shore. Elijah, my husband, walks across the sand with our daughter swaddled securely against his chest. His pants are rolled up to his knees to keep them dry. He stops and looks out toward the horizon,
bending down to pick up something that just washed up at his feet.

  He turns around and grins at me, then gently takes one of Addison’s tiny hands, making her wave. I wave back and smile, patting the spot next to me.

  He brings her to me, carefully lowering her into my arms, and then takes his place beside me. I feel him rub my back as he kisses my shoulder. “She likes the waves,” he says quietly.

  I lay her down in my lap, resting her head near my knees as she wraps both hands around my thumbs. She coos softly, squeezing my fingers as she grins. I rest my head on Elijah’s shoulder and exhale contentedly. Today is the anniversary of one of the worst days of my life. He knows it too. That’s why he brought us here; he wants me to have peace.

  I have everything I need.

  Then

  “DANIKA!” I CRIED hoarsely as my fists pounded the door that was still locked.

  “I’m right here.”

  I turned around and saw her watching me. “Where were you?”

  “I was trying to find you,” she explained. “Are you alright?”

  I grabbed her wrist and pulled her down the stairs with me. “We have to go. Now.”

  “Alright, I’m coming! What’s wrong with you?” she begged. I continued to tow her out the front door.

  “Nothing.” My eyes burned like they were on fire. If I could just make it to the car; make it to her house; make it home without feeling the full weight of what had just happened, I would be able to manage this. Prioritize, May. I told myself these things to make it easier to put them on the back burner, but the residual searing pain was a constant reminder that I was only fooling myself. “I just don’t feel good. Someone gave me a weird drink.”

  “Well, at least one of us got to have fun,” she said tersely, climbing into the passenger seat of my car. “But are you sober enough to drive?”

  I got in on my side and put the keys into the ignition with a trembling hand, thankful the darkness was enough to shroud my face. I didn’t want to talk about what really happened. I never wanted anyone to know. The humiliation I felt was more prevalent than any other feeling I could fathom, enough so that I wanted to hide in a dark room and never emerge. “I’m fine,” I promised.

  “That guy Dane is pretty hot. At least he wasn’t too preoccupied with you to look my way.”

  My throat clenched as I floored it through a yellow light, seeing it turn red before I even crossed the line. I wanted to pull the car over and scream at her; tear her apart for being so selfish; make her feel like the worst woman alive, because in that moment, I believed she was.

  “Are you going to throw up?” she asked suspiciously, leaning closer to her window.

  My car squealed to a stop outside of her house. “I’ll see you on Monday.” My hands fisted the steering wheel so hard my knuckles ached.

  “May?”

  “Get out.”

  She stared at me. “What did I—”

  “Get. Out.”

  And she did.

  * * *

  I STEPPED INTO my house with a slight limp, hardly remembering the drive home. My lip felt swollen. Everything hurt. I walked numbly up the stairs and went into my bathroom to shower; I had never felt more dirty in my entire life.

  Removing my dress was painful. I tried not to look in the mirror, but I caught a glimpse and couldn’t look away. My lip wasn’t as bad as it felt; probably not even noticeable to anyone else. There were no visible bruises on my body. Looking at myself, it was easy to imagine that I had dreamed it; that I would wake up tomorrow and breathe a sigh of relief that it hadn’t been real. But then a memory of Tyler tearing his way into me while I stared helplessly at the ceiling made me rush to the toilet, heaving for what felt like an eternity. I sobbed, clutching the icy porcelain.

  I finally sank down with my back against the cabinets until I could hug my knees to my chest. That was when the shaking began, stealing control of my entire body. And that was when I replayed everything that had happened, trying to make sense of it; trying to understand what I had done wrong to instigate him.

  What did I do? His frantic voice returned to mind.

  He had hit me; I hadn’t asked for that. He had taken control. Yet his response when it was over contradicted his actions, and somehow I knew I had misunderstood.

  I was so confused. My cheek still throbbed where he had slapped me. Steam from the shower clouded around me in a suffocating haze as I gripped the bathroom rug beneath me. It was the only thing that made me feel somewhat stable. I sat there until sweat began to roll off my face. I tried to understand. I tried to understand what I had done to ask for this.

  But no matter how much I reasoned with each passing thought, and no matter how many times I tried to recall what I had done to instigate him, the reality of what had happened was finally crashing down over me. There was only one explanation: one that I never in a million years thought would be something I would have to experience firsthand.

  I had been raped.

  And I had no idea what to do.

  Five

  I WAS UP AT LEAST three times to vomit that night. Each time I began to drift to sleep, I felt it all over again; not the nausea, but Tyler’s hands. I saw his face. I smelled the alcohol on his breath. I could make myself think about other things until that moment right before the dreams took over, at which I was being held down all over again. Each time sent me running to the bathroom. Each time, I had to resist the urge to sob, because I didn’t want my dad to hear my cries and find out what had happened to me.

  I had been asleep for less than an hour when my alarm blared, thrusting me out of a dream I’d finally managed to put myself into—one where I felt safe. Warm. So when my eyes snapped open to the cold reality I was living, it was as if I had ventured into a snowy wasteland, naked and alone.

  I reached for my alarm and turned it off. As I sat up, I found Grace standing in my doorway with a cup of water. She approached me. “I heard you getting sick all night. You need to stay hydrated.”

  I took the glass from her. “Thank you,” I croaked. I brought it to my lips and sipped, lying back to rest on my pillows. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your riding lesson?” I forced a smile, noticing she was still in her nightgown.

  “I am. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Dad’s downstairs, if you want me to get him.”

  “No,” I shook my head. “It’s okay. I’m okay. Must have just eaten something bad.”

  She frowned and nodded, then turned toward the door. “We’ll be back later.”

  I took a few drinks of water before I put the glass aside and slowly climbed out of bed. I gasped sharply when I took my first step toward the bathroom, the dull ache even more painful than before. When I sat down on the toilet, I found blood in my underwear.

  I trembled all over again and barely felt tears begin to fall. For a while I sat there staring at the streak of red, trying to imagine another scenario that could have caused it. Nothing came to mind. I couldn’t will this away. This wasn’t a nightmare I could wake up from. I had been used and discarded by someone who couldn’t even be bothered to ask if I wanted it.

  My cries became louder until I reached over and turned on the shower, biting down on my balled fist to stifle it. I noticed my cell phone was still on the counter from the night before, so I reached for it and pulled up Addison’s text feed.

  Addison: It’s so beautiful here, May! You should have come!

  I should have. I began typing.

  Me: Addison, I need you.

  The tears were fresh again, this time falling soundlessly. I stared at my phone as I tried to recall what time it was in Italy. Five in the afternoon? Six? Surely she was awake.

  My phone started ringing and displayed a picture of Addison making a silly face. I answered it and pressed it against my wet cheek. “I don’t want to talk about it. I just needed to hear your voice.”

  “May,” she said, distraught as though she could feel my pain without even knowing the cause. “Pl
ease talk to me. You’re scaring me.”

  I wept for a moment, trying to keep it quiet but failing. I couldn’t say it out loud. I didn’t know if I would ever muster the courage to do so. So instead I told her half of the truth: the half that didn’t hurt nearly as badly as the other. “I lost my virginity last night.”

  She was quiet for a couple beats, and then she asked me the question that only she would ask: “How is your heart?”

  I tried to swallow, but I couldn’t. “It hurts. I wish I could take it back.”

  “It’ll be okay, May. It’s okay to hurt. It’s okay to make mistakes. Don’t let anyone tell you that you don’t have a right to be upset about this, because you do. This is your moment to feel whatever you need to feel.”

  “I feel so stupid,” I groaned. “I’m so stupid!”

  “You are not stupid. Someday I’ll ask you who he was and what happened, but not today.” She knew me very well and I loved her even more for that. “But do something for me, alright?”

  “Anything,” I whispered.

  “Do something soon that makes last night seem like a distant memory, even if only for a while. The rest of the time, feel everything. Let it process. You have every reason and right to feel it all. Take as long as you need. And remember that whoever this guy is might have been your first, but what counts is the person that’ll be your forever. He doesn’t own you. He may have your virginity but he doesn’t get to own your heart, not unless you want him to. Don’t let this degrade you.”

  I smiled sadly. “Thanks, Addi.”

  “Love you.”

  “You too.”

  The call ended and I laid my phone back on the counter. After cleaning up and sneaking through the house to toss my soiled clothing into the wash, I went back to my bed and buried myself under the covers.

  * * *

  I DIDN’T EMERGE for three days. My parents bought the lie that I had a horrible stomach bug because I had the vomiting to prove it, so other than keeping me hydrated and bringing me crackers, my illness wasn’t questioned. The thing was that I didn’t feel sick; it would just overcome me the moment I started to fall asleep.