by A. R. Breck
No, it hasn't. It's never been yours. It will never be yours.
He starts pulling on my panties, yanking them down my thighs. I pin my legs together, but it’s no use. He's much bigger than me, much stronger. I can feel the cool air between my legs, my dress bunched around my waist.
In the middle of the night. In the middle of the dark. In paradise. And he will take me. Even if I don't want it.
I wish for peace. I wish for the waves to roll over me and carry me out to the sea. I'd rather drown than have this.
I'd rather have anything than have this.
I can hear rustling on top of me, and then he's there. Pressing against me. Pushing between my legs. My hands reach forward, clutching the sand, squeezing it between my fingers. The sand packs beneath my fingernails until I feel pressure. It hurts. It hurts between my legs. My chest hurts. My entire body hurts.
My heart hurts.
Whatever was left of my already fractured soul shatters, floating into the ocean, far, far away from me.
I feel empty. I feel numb.
It burns as he sinks in, grunting above me. His breath is hot against the back of my neck. It feels like the centipede, slithering across my skin. I squeeze my eyes shut, hating the feeling of him inside of me. I don't want this. Yet he doesn't care.
"Doesn't this feel good?" he grunts behind me. "It almost feels like it did in Santa Cruz, huh? Underneath the stars. High on acid?"
My body tenses.
It tenses so stiffly that he pauses on top of me, but only for a second. Then he settles back in, continuing his slow pumping. "Oh, yeah. That's right. You were passed out last time. Sleeping on the forest grass while I fucked you. People watched, too. They enjoyed it. Seeing you. Your beauty. You're so fucking beautiful, Luna."
I bite my lip until blood leaks between my teeth, dripping into the sand.
He defiled me. Like a fucking animal.
He raped me then.
He's raping me now.
He keeps pumping, unaware of my boiling body beneath him. He thinks I've submitted to him. He thinks I've given up.
My hand swings back, my knuckles hitting him directly in the nose. He flings back, letting out a shout. But that's all I need.
I shove to my knees, flying to my feet. And I'm off. Sprinting into the water. No destination in mind. I just need to get away. Get as far away from him as I possibly can.
I dive into the waves, my dress pooling around me in the cold, as I slice through the black water.
Sounds are muted.
Smells are muted.
The world is muted beneath the water. I open my mouth.
And I scream.
Bubbles float up from my mouth as I sink to the ground, pure horror filling every inch of me. I only have a moment, though, because in the next, my hair is pulled, and I'm yanked to the surface.
"Bitch," he gasps, his wet face dripping with water. "Why the fuck did you do that for?" Blood mixes with water as it dribbles down his face, spilling out of his nose in a constant flow.
I put my feet against his stomach, pushing off from him. His hand is tangled in my hair, and the threads break from my scalp. I let out a scream, falling back under the water.
Then he does it.
His hand goes to my neck, grasping the chain that is as much a part of me as my heart is, and he pulls.
I feel the clasp release on the back of my neck, and my eyes shoot open under the water. I can barely see Willie, the dark night and the dark waters making him only an outline, but I can see my gold chain as it floats in the water in his grip. I rush toward it, my tears mixing with the salty water as I swim after him.
No. No, please, no.
His arm reaches out, grappling for my waist. I reach for the ends of my necklace, and my fingers wrap around the gold that shines in the dark. I clasp the slippery pieces, and I pull. Hard.
It yanks around Willie’s neck, right below his chin, and his hand releases from my waist, searching for relief. He tries to pull the chain away from his neck, his fingers attempting to wrap around the necklace. I have it so tight, though, that his fingers can’t slide beneath the gold.
My feet go up his back, and I pull with all my might.
I'm losing air. Barely able to hold on. But I do, pulling as hard as I can, worried about the chain snapping from the force, feeling him struggle beneath me, still attempting to pull the necklace away from his neck. He tries, but he can’t get a grip.
I hold on.
A sob rips from my chest, my ribs heaving as he loses his strength. I can feel the life leaving his body, and I keep holding on.
Then he grows heavy. The struggle stops. He starts dropping to the floor of the ocean. I pull on the chain, releasing his body as I swim to the surface, and stop as I’m yanked back.
What?
I pull on the chain again, but it’s stuck on something. I yank as hard as I can, but it's impossible.
Again, my arms pull back as I try to release the chain from whatever it’s stuck on. No air is left in my lungs. I can feel them contracting, screaming for air. My face must be a dark, deep purple. The pressure is building, and the tears won't stop flowing from my burning eyes. I pull once more, but it's no use. I look to the surface, and with a gut-wrenching sob, my fingers loosen around the ends of the necklace. I release my chain, swimming to the surface.
As soon as I breach the top of the water, a guttural scream leaves me.
"Nooooooooooooo!" I sob, kicking my feet to keep me in place. My body is freezing, the night water cold and vicious around me.
I can barely see the sand of the beach in front of me, and I know I should swim to land. I'm tired. Depleted of everything.
But I can't leave my necklace. I look below me and see nothing but water. So much water. It's black. Black as the night.
With a huge breath, I dive back under, my hands pushed out in front of me. Feeling for gold. Feeling for a body. Anything. I swim to the bottom, my fingers brushing the sand. I feel around, but I'm exhausted, and there's nothing. There's no one. Nothing besides rocks and shells. And sand. So much sand.
With a cry, I put my feet on the ground, pushing off and swimming for the surface. Another sob leaves me when I break through the water, my body feeling ripped in half.
I can't leave without it.
I take another deep breath, diving under again. Suddenly, I'm pulled to the side, a vicious rip current swallowing me and pulling in different directions. I kick as hard as I can, attempting to pull myself out of it, but I have no energy left to fight. The water is too strong. The force of the ocean is too aggressive as it whiplashes me from one direction to the next. But I don't stop, kicking, my arms waving with all my might, my exhausted limbs screaming in pain.
The waves keep swirling. My legs give out, finally having enough, and I swirl around, almost like a tornado, pushed to the bottom of the ocean. I can't fight it, it's too much. It's too strong.
My body bows, my feet pointed, and I float to the bottom, out of my fight. Out of my energy. Darkness pulls me down, and I feel like I'm losing life. I can feel it draining out of me with every second that passes.
Is this it? Is this the end?
I don't want this to be the end. I don't want to die.
Roman, please don't let me die. This isn't the end. It can't be.
My butt hits the sand, and I'm pushed from side to side as the rip current keeps fighting against me. My eyes start to close, my lungs pummeling against my chest, begging for air. I'm about to open my mouth, gasp in water, when the wave pushes against me, shoving me off the ground and up toward the surface.
My arms windmill, my legs automatically kicking. My eyes open, and I look around me, expecting hands. Expecting anything, really, but there's no one. Nothing. Just darkness and water. Pushing me toward the surface.
I break through the water, gasping in mouthfuls of air. I cough, wiping my eyes with my fingers as my legs kick to keep me afloat.
"Hey! Hey, are you okay? Help is co
ming!" A man shouts from the shore.
I wave at him, wanting to ask him for help, but not having the energy. My hands cup the water in front of me, and I float on my side, hoping the riptide doesn't come back and sweep me out into the ocean. I'm able to make it close enough that the guy and one other person rush into the water, grabbing me around the biceps and pulling me to shore.
"What are you doing out there? Do you have a death wish? You're lucky you're alive!" The older man shouts.
The moment my feet hit the ground, I collapse, my knees and palms slamming against the sand. I curl my fingers beneath it, clutching it to me.
It was Roman. He helped me.
I know without a doubt, somehow, it was him.
"I want to go home," I sob. "I just want to go home."
"Okay, okay." The men help me up just as more people rush out with a blanket and flashlights. I hear an ambulance in the distance, but I don't want any of that.
I just want to go home.
My hand goes up to my bare neck, bare for the first time since I was a child. I look over my shoulder just as a blanket is draped over me. "My necklace is out there," I mumble. To them. To no one. I don't know. I just want it back.
"Well, it's probably swept way out to sea by now, sweetheart. Sorry to tell you, but you probably aren't going to see it again."
My head dips, and another cry breaks from my chest. My hands drop from my neck and go to the front of the blanket, holding it tightly against my chest. The ambulance arrives, and I'm ushered into the back of the truck. Lights flash in my eyes, and I’m hooked up to I don’t know how many different things as they check to make sure I’m okay.
They ask me a million questions, but I don't remember any of them.
"I just want to go home," is all I could say on repeat.
"I think she's in shock," one of the men says.
"Miss, would you like to go to the hospital?" the paramedic asks, flashing a light in both my eyes.
I shake my head. "I just want to go home." I can't stop my eyes from glancing to the water, wishing I would see my necklace float on top of the waves. But it never does. It's gone.
Forever.
After another handful of questions, I'm cleared to not need a hospital visit. They drive off, and the men surround me, looking at me curiously.
"What were you doing out there, anyway?" The man cocks his head to the side, half looking at me like I'm crazy, half curious.
I open my mouth, about to tell him I was attacked, but the words won't come. I hope Willie stays out there, gets buried in the sand and swallowed by the waves. I hope he stays out there forever, drowning in the darkness.
I shake my head, "Nothing. I was just taking a swim."
They all shake their heads at me, and I know how stupid that is. That's the number one rule—to not go swimming in the ocean like that. Never alone. Never at night.
"Do you need anything?" One of them asks me.
"I'd actually like to use the computer quickly. To schedule a flight home."
They nod, letting me in the main building. It's not usually allowed after-hours, since the owners sleep upstairs and don’t like the disturbance. But under these circumstances, they must think it’s okay.
I head to the main living area, wrapping the scratchy blanket around me as I sit in the chair. It takes a few minutes to power on the computer, my eyes zoning out as I wait. My fingers float to my neck, feeling the nakedness of my skin. Feeling somewhat empty. So much alone.
Lost.
The screen lights up, and I squint against the bright light. My eyes pound against my skull. My fingers go to the keyboard as I log onto my email. They’re tired, weak. It takes extra force, extra muscles to press down each square, plastic key. Once my email is loaded, I search through my inbox, finding the one phone number I'm looking for.
Lifting up the phone next to the computer, I press in the numbers, biting my lip when the phone starts ringing. Nerves fill my stomach, and my hand that's holding the phone starts shaking.
"Hello?" comes a sleepy voice. My heart drops into my stomach from the familiar voice. I want to press rewind and play it on repeat, but I can’t.
"Nora?" My voice cracks, and I swallow down my sad sigh. What am I doing here? Why did I ever leave?
"L-Luna?" Sounding much more awake this time, and instantly emotional. "Oh my God. What's wrong? Is everything okay?"
I shake my head even though she can't see it. I have to bite my lip to stop the sob that wants to break free. It tickles my chest, my entire body jerking from keeping my cries silent. "Do you have your brother's phone number?"
She’s quiet for a second before she lets out a sob on the other end of the phone, and it instantly makes me start crying. My cry breaks from my chest, my chin dipping down, tears rolling down my cheeks as emotion overtakes me. My chest aches, and I bring my free hand to rub the pain away.
I don't know if Roman is still dating that girl. I don't know if they're married, or have kids, or if he's in the middle of a tour. All I know is that he saved me in that ocean whether he knows it or not, and he's the one I want to see right now.
Once Nora calms down enough to speak, she tells me to hold on. I nod, wiping my face while I listen to her sniffle on the other end of the line.
"Ready?" she asks, her voice clogged with tears.
I nod my head, grabbing a pen from the desk and a little yellow sticky note. "Ready," I whisper. I've never felt more ready in my entire life.
She gives me his number, each number building a weight in my heart, and asks, "Does this mean you're coming home?"
"I'm coming home." My voice breaks off at the end as I start crying again, and so does she. It's painful as the tears flow from my eyes, my chest aching with each breath I take.
"I'm never going to be able to fall back asleep now," she laughs, still in the midst of crying.
"I'll talk to you soon, okay? I really want to get out of here."
She pauses at this. "Is everything okay? Seriously?"
I bite my lip. "It will be."
"I love you," she says on a whisper.
"I love you, too."
We hang up, and I place the phone back in its holder, staring down at the phone number I scribbled, my handwriting shaky and barely legible. My fingers run over the pen marks, smudging the ink.
My heart races and slows down, like it knows something life-changing is about to happen. It's been so many years since I've talked to Roman. So many years since I've heard his voice. Has he thought about me? Does he miss me?
With a deep, shaky breath, I pick up the phone, pressing the buttons extra slow. My fingers tremble, and tears fill my eyes. I'm so excited, nervous, worried, hopeful, regretful. So many emotions fill my stomach, and I can't do anything besides breathe deeply.
And hope that he answers.
It rings. And rings. And continues to ring. I’m almost worried it’s going to hit voicemail, that maybe I won’t be able to reach him, after all.
Then the phone clicks.
"Hello?"
My mouth opens, a gasp coming out. It's him.
He sounds so much the same, but so different.
The letters of his name curl around my tongue, but nothing leaves my mouth. Nothing besides breath. Nothing besides love.
He doesn't say anything on the other line, listening to my heavy breaths as they come through the phone. Then I hear his sharp intake of breath, and I know.
He knows.
"Luna?" His voice comes out quiet, hushed.
I nod, still no words coming out of my mouth. My throat squeaks a little, and I can hear his heavy breath on the other line. Tears rush from my eyes, my cheeks drenched as his voice awakens a part of my soul that has been sleeping since he walked out of my room all those years ago.
"Luna, is that you?" he asks again, his voice rushed this time.
"It's me," I whisper.
He says nothing, his breathing labored. I imagine him sitting there, his eyes pinched closed.
His fingers running through his hair as shock covers his face.
"Are you okay? Where are you?"
My mouth opens, and all that comes out is a cry.
I hear him groan on the other end of the line, pure agony ripping from his chest. "Please… please, Luna, don't cry. Please don't fucking cry." His voice is pained, ripping from his throat.
"I want to come home," I cry, not able to answer any of his questions. Because I'm not okay, not in the slightest. So much has happened. So fucking much in my life has changed.
"Home?"
"Yes. Please. I just want to come home." This time it's a sob that rips through my throat, and I can literally feel his pain coming through the phone. He hates my pain, just as much as I hate his.
We're connected. We always have been.
"I'm in New York,” he says.
I blink, shocked. I guess I didn't even think of where he might be living again, and then suddenly, thoughts of his girlfriend come back to my mind. Of him possibly sliding a ring on another girl’s finger. His voice rushes out, "I can get you a ticket home, to Wisconsin, if you want. Or I can get you a ticket to me. Whatever you want. I'll do it."
"You. I want you," is all I can say. I don't think about the girlfriend, or the fact that I might be walking into him with a baby on his hip. I need to see him, more than I need air. I need him more than anything else in this world.
I hear him move around. "Stay on the phone. I'll get you a ticket right now." I listen as his fingers fly across a keyboard, his mouse clicking. We don't speak, and I don't need to. My heart settles in my chest, maybe for the first time since I last saw him. It's like it knows everything will be okay. That this, now, is right.
“Where are you?” he asks.
My mouth opens, pain seeping from my lips with my words. “I’m in Hawaii. Maui.” He says nothing and I know he can hear the agony in my words. He doesn’t know what has happened to me, and he doesn’t need to know the story to know I’ve been through hell.
"Okay. Can you get to the airport now? I can get you a plane out at about five a.m. there." I check the clock on the computer, seeing it’s only two a.m.
"Yeah, I think so."
"Okay." More clicking, and then he lets out a deep breath. "Okay, you're good to go. I'll meet you at the airport."