"I know why the caged bird sings." — Maya Angelou


Sometimes I feel like I'm induced in the repercussions of bad times, driven into a state of melancholy by the mere remembrance of my rapist when I go about the day. It doesn't matter what I'm doing or who I'm with. I freeze and witness the whole thing happen all over again in my mind, but I can't do anything to save myself. The pain is excruciating, and I want to tell him to stop, but it's hard. Harder than I ever imagined. I couldn't feel most of my body, nor did I want to, for the parts that I did feel were sore enough. He was behind me, panting heavily into the nape of my neck with each thrust. Now I go to bed with the vivid memory of hearing the sound of his erratic breathing against my back. It sends chills down my spine and not the good kind. It's been one year, and I'm barely okay. One year, but I remember the moment like it was yesterday. The alcohol surging through my veins as Dylan tugged me into a dark room at that college party. I was too intoxicated to realize what was seconds away from happening to me then.

I woke up crying this morning, not wanting to get out of bed but knowing I had to for my own sake. Anya had spent the night with Louis so I was by myself in the apartment, and I couldn't have felt more alone. The moment when I needed my best friend the most, she wasn't there, but thankfully someone else was. I heard a knock at the door and quickly wiped away the fresh stream of tears trailing down my cheeks before answering it. I looked like a hot mess, but I didn't care. Not until I realized that it was Harry standing outside my door.


Shit.


"Hey, Lucy. I'm—Wait a second. W-were you just crying?" Harry asked me, his tone becoming worrisome. I could still see yesterday's guilt lingering in his green eyes. I guess I didn't do such a good job of concealing my mental breakdown.

I simply told him the truth. "Not because of you if that's what you're worried about. Besides, what are you doing here, Harry? Do you know how early it is?" I sighed, rubbing my temples. It was no later than 7:00 am.

"I, um, wanted to apologize for my behavior last night. I didn't want you to leave angry with me. I know I was being a major arse, and I'm really really sorry, Lucy. Please forgive me," The sincerity in his voice was hard to miss, and I could tell he meant what he said this time.

"It's alright Harry. I overreacted myself," I sniffed. "Hey, would you like to come in for a cup of tea?" I asked. He looked surprised by my kind offer but accepted before stepping inside.

After fetching Harry a cup of tea, I revealed all my cards on the table. Why I was upset. What happened to me a year ago. Everything. I don't know why. I just did. And the only thing he did was listen, his silence giving me solace. I was confused as to why he stayed with me after learning how troubled I really was, but I didn't object; By telling Harry, I was taking a step forward. A step forward in helping myself. Heaven knows I need it. Once the end of my story came, I was violently sobbing into Harry's chest as he rubbed circles in my back, telling me I was going to be okay. And for a brief moment, I believed him. I've never been this vulnerable with anyone else before. Not even Anya. I guess I just needed someone to listen, and someone finally did.

---

Mr. Rivera dismissed the class for the day, and I was packing up my stuff, getting ready to leave when Connor dropped by my desk. I met his eyes with a faint smile as I put my sketchbook away.

"Hey," I said.

"Hey," he said back.

"Do you, um, know what you're gonna do for t-the art project?" I asked, unsure of what else to say. This was the first time Connor actually acknowledged me in the classroom so I was a bit lost for words.

"No, not yet. Anyway, that's not why I came over to talk to you..." He trailed off into deep thought. Connor now had my undivided attention. "Today's my birthday, and I'm having a bonfire tonight at Brightlingsea Beach. Can you come?" Hopeful eyes met mine in a cheeky grin.

His eyes were a nice shade of blue. So clear and trusting, but something was still stopping me from saying yes. I originally planned on spending this day wallowing in self pity and going through several boxes of tissue, but if I was going to move on, I needed to do this.

"I'd love to," I finally said.

"Great! So I'll see you around, say tennish?" he questioned. I forced a smile.

"Yeah."

---

"Happy birthday, Connor!" Everyone on the beach seemed to cheer as they raised their glass in celebration, the fire illuminating the faces of college students dancing along to the radio and conversing with each other.

Connor's friends cornered him into a big group hug and handed him his first drink of the night. He was officially 19. I suddenly felt small and out of place as I reached the end of the boardwalk, the sand tickling my toes. Maybe I was rushing into the party scene too fast. There was no one here who looked remotely close to my age. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, sighing, as my gaze fell to the floor. My body suddenly tensed up when I felt someone brush against me but calmed down seeing it was only Harry.

"It's not too late to turn back you know," Harry muttered while gazing at the group of teenagers scattered along the beach.

I shook my head, "No. I promised him I'd come."

"Then what are you waiting for?" he asked, sounding rather annoyed.

"B-bad memories. I never really liked this beach," My voice became even quieter. Something that happened to me while telling a lie.


"I think it's because you're afraid."


I opened my mouth to speak but grew frustrated when nothing came out. I stayed silent and just stared at him with a blank face, my head shaking in disbelief. I wasn't afraid. I knew what Connor was looking for, but it wasn't what I wanted right now, let alone needed. I needed someone who could make me forget and as cute as Connor was, he wouldn't understand. There was only one other person I could trust with my past besides Anya. Harry. But I had a feeling he already knew that.

"You're afraid that you won't fit in with the college crowd," he continued, "and you won't because you're different. Listen, I know you say we're just friends, but—"

"Don't you see? That's the thing, Harry!" I poked his chest, "We're not friends. You hardly know me..."

"Bullshit." He breathed, catching my finger and tugging me a little closer.

His gaze slowly flickered down to my mouth and back to my eyes. Foreheads pressed together, I could feel his hot breath fan over my lips as he leaned in closer. He shouldn't be doing this. Why am I letting him do this? Push him back, Lucy. But my hands were useless. One was in Harry's hold and the other was pressed against his inked chest to force some distance, creating a small gap. It didn't do me much good though. Before our lips could meet, the sound of someone calling my name drew him back.

"Lucy is that you?" A man from the shadows emerged, revealing cloudy eyes and scruffy brown hair.

Perfect timing.

Notes

I just wanted to let you guys know that this chapter is probably my favorite out of anything I've written yet. I know that 'rape' is a controversial issue and I take it very seriously which is why I did some research (websites available upon request) before writing this chapter. I knew the statistics and numerical data, but I wanted to get a better understanding of the feelings and emotions people went through if they were a victim of this horrible act. In the beginning of this chapter you really get a glimpse into Lucy's mind to see how she feels everyday, and I tried my best to make it sound as realistic as possible.

Most importantly, I'd like to dedicate this chapter and this story to anyone who has been ever hurt or abused in any sort of way. It's important to speak and just know that there's someone out there who cares about your story and wants to listen. Please comment your thoughts below. It would honestly mean the world <3

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Love
-M