You know. He really is the best thing that has ever happened to me. As cliche as this will sound, he is my hero, my best friend, my one true love. Even now, all these years on, one look from him and my knees shake. One glimpse of him across a room and I lose the thread of my sentence and grin like a child with a new toy. He makes me feel like I sparkle - whatever I'm wearing, wherever I am he makes me feel like I'm ten years younger and two stone lighter. Just walking by his side makes me want to skip with pride and joy and hold my head up with a confidence I thought had been stolen from me forever. Three was a time when I couldn't do that.
That's why I'm scared.
Just as I thought I could see what my life was going to be like, just when I felt about to burst with ripeness and life, someone took that from me. It was like he had siphoned off this magic feeling surging through my veins and thrown a blanket over everything that glowed in my life.
Sophie, I would have called her.
My parents noticed a change in me, but chose to believe it was hormones. No matter that i was sixteen and already passed that. Not that any of it was their fault. Just series of bad luck.
Bad luck, bad timing, bad place, bad man, bad me...
You'd think I would be too old for this really. That I'd killed it and buried it, laid it to rest alongside the Me that Was. Life doesn't work like that though.
It had been such a wonderful night. I should have known then, really, but that was where the pattern began so i had no reason to be on my guard. A friend of mine had got some of us on a guest list to a club that turned a blind eye to the age of their patrons as long as they carried on drinking. It was not long after we had started sixth form and that summer I had morphed from the A* never - been - kissed student into a girl excited by her body and the effect it had on all these boys. That's not to say I'd had sex. I'd kissed lots of boys, even let them suck my nipples and ram themselves in my mouth - which I soon realised was not going to be my favourite past time - but hey, it gave me a certain power. It made me feel fiery and in control and wanted. I'd never had anyone inside me though, never taken my knickers off. I had some vague notion of saving that little bit of my for someone special.
So we all went to this club and we dance and we drank much more than we should. I remember feeling as though the whole world was at my feet. I kissed three different boys, to the amusement of those I had gone with - some of whom had never seen that side of me. A side that I was excited by.
During the course of the night I had my phone stolen.
it was so dark. It was two in the morning by the time we went outside to get a cab. You might think that early, but, truth be told, it was the first time I'd ever been to a club and we had school in the morning.
Even though the air was dark, the lights in front of the club were harsh and I remember feeling exposed. Faintly ridiculous, actually, in my boot and mini skirt. My friend, his eyes had popped out when he first saw me. We'd known each other all our lives and he'd never seen me with so much flesh on show.
I jumped in the first cab I saw with this friend, Andrew, and a few others and I remember...well, nothing really. God, I was so drunk. We talked about how many boys I'd kissed and my stolen phone and how we were all too hyper to go to sleep. How we wanted to keep partying.
We dropped Lucy off first, then Amy.
Andrew lived on the same estate, but closer to the entrance, so I was in the car on my own.
I've never written this down before, only told a few people.
Sitting in the back on my own, I could see my house from here.
"Do you want to go somewhere for a quick kiss and a cuddle?"
The car moved off and as it did I heard the doors lock. I felt...
I was about to say I felt sick. I feel sick now, writing it, but then? Somewhere, deep down, I was terrified. I didn't really believe it though. It wasn't really happening, I was drunk. I was drunk and I was having some sort of nightmare.
i passed out. Too drunk, too in denial, too scared. Too stupid.
I woke up to find a shapeless monster panting on top of me.
What an innocuous word panting is. Puppies pant.
He whispered things in my ears and stroked my face with his free hand
"Shh now, don't cry. You're beautiful. You're so beautiful."
I hadn't realised I was crying. I hadn't realised it was his fingers inside me and nothing else.
"Cam you feel how wet you are? I knew when I saw you that you'd enjoy it"
Please, I want to go home.
"Soon baby, soon."
I've got school in the morning, please
"School? How old are you?"
I thought maybe that would make him feel bad. Silly girl.
"Can you feel what you're doing to me?"
He was rubbing himself against my bare legs. He must have taken my boots off.
He pulled his fingers out from inside me and I felt a dragging sensation, like he was pulling me inside out. He took one of my hands from its clenched position around my face,
"Feel how wet you are. Feel how much you want me, baby."
I was wet. This was sick. I was sick.
Please just let me go home. I'm scared. You're scaring me.
He pulled my legs so I was hanging half out of the car. As he rubbed his penis on my face and cheeks, he took hold of my wrists and forced himself inside my mouth. I could taste the coldness of the semen on the end and it made me gag.
"Bite and I'll kill you."
I thought he would break my jaw. I thought I'd vomit and drown in it. I wanted to.
"You're so good at this, I knew you were a whore, just look at you. F*ck."
I couldn't breathe.
I felt numb.
I can't write anymore.
So he raped me.
It doesn't feel so bad, seeing it in black and white. I think that's because whenever it pops up in my brain I experience it more in colours. Black, lots of black, flashes of green and explosions of red. Green because that's the colour of his eyes, I think. Red because that's what I saw when he pushed himself inside me. Red because it turns out that I wasn't 'so wet,' I was bleeding, I was in pain for weeks and never sure if it was because of his ginfers or both. I had images of pussy, weeping rents from his fingernails healing slowly in the fleshy walls of my insides.
I never really use the word rape.
I went to school the same morning. I felt rather like I was floating along behind my body, a sort of spirit balloon.
Lucy agreed that we shouldn't go to the police. She, because we were underage and drunk. I because I knew roughly that they'd prod me, poke me - ask me questions. Tell my parents.
It never even occurred to me that I could be pregnant. Something beautiful is not supposed to come out of something so... colourful.
Funny. Normally I have words sparking from my lips, cascading like waterfalls from my fingertips. Yet here I am with 'colourful.'
I don't even remember if his eyes were actually green. In my head and in my sleep his skin is heavily wrinkled and his nails are more like claws with bits of me wedged underneath. Lucy, Andrew and I couldn't even agree on the colour of his car.
when I realised I was pregnant I would wake up with nightmares akin to Alien - a strange, ugly, green eyed Thing bursting from my stomach. As time went on though, I sank deeper and deeper into a well of nothing and no one. the baby was my only ray of hope.
I suppose that's when my 'baby obsession' (as my husbaand calls it) started.
I had my very own baby inside me and no one could tke it away from me. I felt a littlebit stronger every day. Not much. And then...
Colours, again. Mostly red. Bright red, spotted with dark, dark clots. The occasional electrifying white; dizziness brought on by navy blue cramps.
Darkness again. No Sophie - who I knew could have been nothing other than dark haired. My hair is almost black and although the nameless monster was bald, the hairs I pulled from under my tongue once I was home were dark.
He had won and taken everything I was going to be. He had snuffed out my flame with rancid sweat and glutinous sperm and then ripped my shining baby from me.