From Dark To Darker

From Dark To Darker by J. Kuzmier --  photo by John B. at

I wake up, but I don’t know what time it is. I just know it must be day, because I can see the sun through my curtains. So I decide to turn on the lights, because I don’t want to open the curtains, but it’s too bright and hurts my eyes so I shut them off. It’s been like this since I got attacked, not knowing what time it is or what day it is, but I’m getting used to it and I don’t think I want to know anyway.

I think it’s been a month since I’ve been raped, but I don’t know for sure how long ago it was because I keep forgetting the date when it happened. I don’t know what day it is now because I don’t know if it matters. I’m just getting used to saying that I was raped, like I’m supposed to walk around saying “Hi, I’m Emily and I’m a rape victim”. It makes me feel like I’m at some weird therapy group like that AA meeting I went to with my parents when my father said he was an alcoholic, back when he still lived here. The counselor Brenda that I met told me, it’s a good idea to say to myself that I was raped, instead of saying I was attacked. She said it will help me realize the seriousness of what happened to me. I’ve been doing that, but I don’t think it’s working because I don’t think it’s helping me realize anything. I still feel numb, ever since it happened that day. I’m really confused. I don’t know what I should do.

My bedroom door is closed, but I can hear my mother’s voice. She’s worried, because school is starting soon, and the whole school knows about me getting raped. I know this because I heard my mom talking to her friend Crystal the other day when she came over, and Crystal says there’s some kind of video of me with one of the guys, and the whole school has been texting and sharing it all over the place. I don’t really remember what happened, because I was drunk with Troy and Sam, the two guys who raped me. I was with them because I was pissed at my boyfriend Corey, because he was making fun of me in front of everyone at Melissa’s party, so I went with Troy and Sam to get Corey jealous. They’re really popular in school, and every girl I know wants to sleep with them. But I just wanted Corey to see me drinking with them. I didn’t want to have sex with Sam and Troy, not with the entire planet watching me, anyway. I just wanted to get stoned and drunk, and forget about the fight I had with Corey. I hate fighting with him. He’s the first boy I ever loved.

I don’t even remember talking to the police after I got raped. I don’t even know how the police even got involved. I don’t think I called them. But my mother says we pressed charges against Sam and Troy and they got arrested, although they’re not in jail now, so they had to be involved somehow. That’s how I got to meet the counselor, at the police station, although I don’t remember meeting her at all. Her name is Brenda. I talk with her at her office at this clinic, not the police station. Mom takes me there, to the office, but never goes in with me. She stays in the car, although one time I saw through the window in Brenda’s office that she took off. I don’t like the office building that Brenda works in, because all these women smile at me like I’m retarded or something. Besides, the whole place smells like stale air, like people forgot how to breathe or something weird. I think the whole thing really sucks. Brenda smiles at me the same way as the others, like I need special ed. I hate going there, and I hate talking to Brenda, but I have to if I want to remember what Troy and Sam did to me. That’s what everyone says will happen.

Maybe everyone told me what happened, but I forget. It’s hard to remember anything since I got attacked. Brenda says I’ll remember, little by little, if I keep talking about it. I don’t know if I want to remember. But my mom and Brenda say that if I want Sam and Troy to go to jail for a long time, I have to remember. Because it’s mostly because of my story that they are being charged. Everyone says I was drunk, and I think this doesn’t help. I might have to see Sam and Troy at school if they don’t go to jail. I used to kind of like them because I thought they were hot, but now when I think of them I want to kill them. So that’s why I want them to go to jail, so I don’t have to see them at school, and maybe I can just forget about what happened to me. I wish Corey were here. Even though he made fun of me and we fought that day, I really miss him. He’s the nicest boy I’ve ever been with, and I’m sorry I got so mad at him that I wound up getting raped. I don’t think I’ve seen him since the attack, but I don’t remember.

My mom is still talking on the phone, but I don’t want her to see me. I don’t want her to get all weird and helicopter-like on me, touching me all the time. Since I was raped, I hate people touching me. I just want the pain to go away. Which is weird, because I feel numb at the same time I hurt so much, and this makes me feel confused. I wish I had a cigarette, but to get one I have to go out and deal with my mom. Everything is really jumpy in me, maybe because I’m craving the cigarette. But I don’t know. Everything feels weird, and at least if I stay in my room, I feel better because I don’t have to deal with anyone. I’ve been in my room pretty much for the last month, unless I’m at the counselor. I guess because I’ve been here so much it feels safe. When I was raped, I was at Melissa’s house because she had a party. She has parties all of the time, and I usually go because we’re pretty good friends. The video of me shows me at Melissa’s house, Brenda told me. I think Melissa’s parents were there, but I forget. Sometimes they’re there when she has parties, and sometimes they’re not. But anyway, Brenda says that the video shows me kissing Troy really deeply, and a bunch of people were cheering me on. I’m the one who kissed him first, the video seems to show. I haven’t seen the video, and I don’t know who shot it. I’m too afraid to see it. Crystal told my mom that the video doesn’t help my case because I kissed Troy. I was in my room when Crystal said this, so I can’t be sure, but I think I heard my mother begin to cry.

She’s crying now as she’s on the phone. She cries a lot now, both with me alone and with her friends. It really annoys me when she cries like this, especially when no one is around, because then she gets all pushy on me. She’ll grab me, and say things like, “What are we going to do? What are we going to do?” I don’t know why she keeps asking me that. I don’t know if I’m supposed to give her a suggestion, so I usually say nothing, and she just cries more. I want to help her stop. It really makes me crazy when she cries. It’s even worse when she cries while she’s on the phone, because I can’t do anything to stop her because I’m not supposed to be listening. It’s even more annoying when she cries to her friends, because, she cries in a sniffly way when she’s on the phone, pretending she’s all dignified or whatever like she’s some rich actress on a yacht. I wish if she were going to cry all the time around me, she’d do it like she does when she’s on the phone with her friends. She makes me feel guilty, because I’m the one who was drunk and who wanted to make Corey jealous. I wish he were here, but I’m afraid of what he’ll say. I try to think of him kissing me and holding me, but it keeps turning into a monster, remembering some feeling of being held down like I’m underwater. I’m not sure why, because Corey’s the best lover I ever had. I keep feeling bad about everything, but I don’t know how I do when I don’t feel anything. It’s all too weird, and I really want a cigarette. Maybe I can sneak past my mom, since she’s on the phone, so I slip the door open. I hear her talking clearly now to her BFF Crystal, yapping and whining about me like she does all the time.

So this is what I hear. “I don’t know, Crys,” she says in the phone. “What can I do? I’ve talked to the school about the Facebook page. They can’t do anything, because the whole thing didn’t take place on school ground. And there is that video with her and that boy Troy. So it’s not even like they’re lying online, or even really saying they had sex with her, so I don’t even have that on my side. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do. Other than the fact that she was yelling for help, there’s no other evidence that she was raped. They used condoms, she wasn’t hurt at all, and she took a shower afterwards, I guess so she would think I don’t know she’s getting laid everywhere, so if there was any evidence she washed it away. So now it’s like everyone’s saying she just yelled rape just to make noise, and there’s nothing to say otherwise. I’m beginning to think that Tom and Lisa just called the cops the next day, because they wanted to cover their asses having a bunch of minors getting drunk in their house. They were probably afraid someone else would get to the cops first. I wish someone would throw their asses in jail for letting kids get drunk in their house, but you know how it is, I guess money talks and I don’t have it. I just don’t know what to do. I’ve tried so hard ever since her father walked out on us, and I can’t seem to keep any of it together. I know she’s having sex with that jerk Corey that I can’t stand, because I’ve seen the used condoms in the trash. So here she is, getting drunk, sleeping around with everyone, and she’s only fifteen years old. Fifteen! I mean, I had sex early, but even I was a virgin back then. And with the video her sticking her tongue down the one guy’s throat, it isn’t helping at all. Not at all. What am I going to do? I can’t afford to send her to private school, and her asshole father isn’t going to pay for anything. I just don’t know what to do with her.” There’s a long pause before my mother starts up her whine again. “Oh, that would be great, to do that. But how can I afford rehab? The medical insurance at the office won’t pay for a rehab. So I can’t do that. And I can’t homeschool her. I’m having an impossible time keeping up with the bills as it is. I just don’t know what I’m going to do…”

I tuned out her whining at this point, ignoring her. I’m sick of her calling me a slut, making my rape all about her and her stupid problems. Especially when she was a bitch to my father, and deserved to be walked out on when she’s the one who cheated on him first. At first, it sort of blew past me, all of the crap she’s saying. Because it’s stuff I’ve heard her say over the years, how she’s less a slut than me or whatever. But when she mentioned the Facebook page, my mind gets stuck on that. I don’t know what she means by this Facebook page she talked about, at least the one that’s somehow special in some way. I haven’t been on the computer at all since that night, at least I don’t think I’ve been. It’s weird because I feel my heart get really hard and thick, thumping in me. I start shivering, but my cheeks feel hot. I get a strange flash in my mind where I hear people laughing in a really mean way. My legs are having trouble keeping me standing. I can see the back of my mother’s head as she goes on about all the problems I’ve caused her, but she hasn’t turned in my direction which is good because it means she hasn’t seen me. I don’t seem to want a cigarette as much anymore, which is good because my legs feel so weak and I really need to sit down. So I slip back into my room, close the door really quietly. She didn’t even know that I was there, listening.

I look about my room when I close the door and sit down on my bed. There’s just enough light in the room to make everything highlighted around the edges. It’s really weird, but it’s almost like since I’ve been here so much for the last month, I haven’t really noticed what’s in my room. I don’t know if that makes sense. But nothing has made sense for awhile to me. Everything seems to be some strange background set for a movie, like my computer, my TV, my dresser with my makeup, and the stuffed animals I can’t quite seem to throw away even though I’m fifteen. Things are really messy and sloppy, and even though everyone thinks that’s the way all teenagers are that’s not true. Before I got raped, I kept everything perfectly neat. I used to clean the house a lot too, because my mom was working so much until I got attacked and now she’s taking a lot of time off. But I haven’t been cleaning at all, the house or the bed, and the floor’s so messy with clothes and food wrappers I can’t even recognize it’s part of my room. I don’t even know who I am anymore, seeing how I’m letting myself live like this. But I don’t have the energy to do anything about it. I guess it was better when I didn’t see it, because I don’t feel any better now that I did.

I look up at the ceiling, to get my mind away from the disgusting mess I can’t deal with on the floor. There’s a poster of the Jonas Brothers on the ceiling above my bed that my friend Jody gave me for my fifteenth birthday, because she knows how much I love them. Before I got raped, I’d imagine myself making love to Nick in particular. But now, it’s just a poster and doesn’t mean anything. My mom said Nick was on TV the other day, but I didn’t bother to see him on it. I don’t really care about him anymore, and it feels weird that I wanted to make love to him and for some reason, I don’t want to remember that anymore.

So I stand on my bed and rip the poster down. I begin tearing it up into little pieces, saving Nick’s face for last. I look at him, smiling back at me, and almost decide to spare him. But I don’t. It’s just a stupid poster, and he’d probably just write me off as a slut even if he did know me, just like everyone else has it seems. I rip him in half, then into smaller and smaller faces until his face is gone completely. I look at the pile of paper in front of me, but I’m too tired to throw it away, and just push it off the bed.

It’s been so quiet here. I don’t remember the last time I was on the computer to check out Facebook or Formspring or anything else, and I haven’t called anybody either. I don’t think I’ve looked at my phone in awhile so I don’t know if anyone has called me, although I do remember my mom calling through my door saying somebody called for me on the landline. I didn’t take the call because it’s hard for me to talk to anyone now. It was probably my grandmother or somebody old like that, because most of my friends would only call me on my phone. My dad hasn’t called, but that’s not really weird because he hasn’t called much since my mother screamed at him to get out of our lives after he caught her cheating. I don’t think Corey called either, but I don’t know. I think that’s why I haven’t checked my phone, or gone on the computer. I don’t want to find out that he hasn’t called me since the rape. He’s told me he loved me a couple of times. I don’t know how I could handle it if he hasn’t called at all. But I guess I’ll have to find out eventually, one day.

Besides, the conversation that I overheard with my mom and her friend Crystal weirds me out. Even as I was killing off Nick, I was remembering what my mom said about the Facebook page. I look at the computer, and my heart is really pumping wildly, and as this happens I get this weird flash in my head of people laughing again. I don’t know why this is happening. It creeps me out, and then I think I’m an idiot because I’m standing here freaking out over a computer. I’m probably going to find out whatever’s on that page, one day, so maybe I should find out now. Maybe this sounds weird, but I had trouble turning on the computer. My hands were shaking, like people with Parkinson’s. I had trouble remembering my password. Everything seemed like a strange blank to me. But I managed to do it.

I go to my Facebook page. I don’t post a lot, but I do have some photos there. It says I’m in a relationship, but not with who because Corey didn’t really want our sex life broadcasted everywhere, which bothered me but I know he’s private and on his page, you can only see stuff if you’re a friend of his. When I went to my page last time, I had 269 friends because I’m friends with a lot of people in the school and also a lot of their families. But that’s not the number anymore. It’s down to 24. It’s really weird, like I’m watching someone else’s life as I scroll through the list. So many people have unfriended me I can’t even keep track. But it’s when I get to “C” that I feel everything go strange. There’s my cousin Chris, then my mother’s friend Crystal. Corey should be in between them, and he isn’t. Something has to be wrong. So I search for him on Facebook, and there are four guys with his name and no picture, like last time I searched his name. I have to click on all of them, and for all of them they say if I know Corey and want to know more about him, I need to send a friend request. None of them have a relationship status. I don’t know what has happened. I feel really dizzy, looking at the screen.

Maybe something has gone really wrong, like Facebook messed up or something like it sometimes does. So I go to my page again to see my friend list to see maybe if something screwed up, and see that even Melissa has unfriended me. But she’s the kind where it really doesn’t make a difference if she’s your friend or not, because she broadcasts everything to everyone anyway, so I go there to her page. She’s got all kinds of photos of all the people who were at this other party she had, but from what I can tell it’s of a different one than the one I got raped at because it’s outside. It was raining the day I went to the party at her house, for some reason I remembered that. At this other party she has posted, I see a whole bunch of people I recognize, because I’ve partied with all of them before. A lot of them were my friends on Facebook, at least until a month ago. It’s strange because even though they seem to be familiar like I know I’ve seen them before, it’s like I don’t really know who they are. They all seem to be having a great time, laughing and probably drinking too, even though none of the pictures show that happening because Melissa is paranoid that she’ll get busted by the police. Everyone’s gone on living life without me. Do they even care what happened to me?

I can’t help it, but I look through all the pictures she has. I don’t know why. I guess I just can’t believe that everyone has forgotten about me. Then I see a picture of Melissa kissing someone, and I can’t believe it. She’s kissing Troy. Even after all that happened to me, she’s going out with him? Then I see another picture, of Sam jumping into the pool with a couple of other guys. They’re all laughing together. They’re even on her friend list when I check it, like Corey is and I’m not. Why is Melissa friends with Sam and Troy when she knows what happened? Nobody seems mad at them at all. But they all have deserted me. What the f&*% is wrong with everyone?

I just keep flipping back and forth through the pictures, with everyone sitting by the pool, having a great time. I wish there were pictures of them drinking, so I could call the cops on them, I hate them so much. I hate that Melissa knows how to play the game of getting away with her shit, at least on her page. I want to go to one of her parties just to take a picture of them drinking and tag it to my page, so I have proof. But I guess no one even believes I’ve been raped, because everyone is hanging out with Sam and Troy like they’re the greatest guys. I don’t even think my mother believes me. So why bother trying to get some shit on them? Everyone would probably just laugh at me, and my mother would just whine about me on the phone with some dork. My head is exploding, and I feel sick.

But it isn’t the worst thing at all, seeing everyone at this party. There’s a picture of Corey. He’s sitting on Melissa’s deck, and he’s got his arm around this girl Aimee. She’s this girl who’s always been hitting on him when he’s been going out with me, and now there’s this picture of him and her together online. He looks happy with her. Happier than he ever was with me, because his smile is really big and wide. We fight so much lately that I forgot what his smile looked like. Now I get to see his big smile, but this isn’t the way I wanted him to be happy. My eyes are full of pressure, but I can’t even cry. Everything hurts inside me so much, that it’s like nothing in me knows what to do with it. Everything hurts so bad it feels like nothing, even as I go to my wall and see what I expect to see now that everyone hates me. There’s a whole bunch of shit like “Emily B is a slut!”, “How many guys can a skank do at the same time? Ask Emily! She’ll show you, live and in the flesh!” “Ho, ho ho, Emily can go go go!” All kinds of crap like this from people who were once my friends. They all were posted three weeks ago or so. All from people who were once on my friend list but are now gone. Corey said nothing at all, before he cyberdumped me by unfriending me. When I go to my Formspring page, it’s even worse. It says stuff like, “Why are you a slut?” “Why did you f@&* over Corey?” “How many guys have you done it with?” “Can I bring over three of my friends and f@&* you?” “Are you going to do porn for a living or are you going to keep doing it for free?”

I want to throw up, but it gets stuck in my throat because I don’t know when it was the last time I ate or drank anything. I look at all the crap on my pages, and I don’t know what to do. I know Brenda said I should keep a record of things like this, because it might be evidence. But I don’t know what it’s evidence of other than everyone’s turned into a bunch of haters. But maybe they aren’t haters, if they’re all telling the truth about me. I mean, I don’t remember what happened, at all. I sort of remember kissing Troy, and I do remember it felt good at first and I thought he was a good kisser. The next was that I remember feeling really smothered, and maybe that was when I screamed and I guess that’s when Melissa’s parents showed up. I really don’t know. Maybe I did f@&* over Corey. I have an overwhelming urge to talk to him, like now. I want to tell him I’m sorry. Maybe I’m just overreacting, and nothing’s going on between him and Aimee. He must be so mad at me, and I feel like such a slut that two guys did it to me with him knowing, even if I was raped which I’m getting really confused about it even happening now. I don’t know if it’s better if I was raped, or if I wasn’t. Everyone hates me, anyway, and I don’t even know what it is that they hate me for.

I forget where I put my phone, because it’s not plugged in so I have to look under all my clothes to find them. I haven’t been doing a lot of laundry lately, so all my dirty clothes are like everywhere and it takes me a really long time to find my phone under all of them. The longer it takes me, the more I seem to fumble around, bumping into my bed and my dressers and tripping on stuff on the floor. But I find it, and turn it on. I shouldn’t be surprised when I see that no one has called me, including Corey. No texts, nothing. Like I didn’t exist, when I used to get texts all of the time, especially from Corey. They really don’t care, none of them. Not even Corey. But even though it’s been so long, I am able to punch the numbers to call Corey by heart, without even speed dialing it. I don’t know why, but I need to know that I can still remember something about him, which is why I call him like that. I know his number by heart because I memorized it as soon as he gave it to me. I let the phone ring, and I feel so terrified, but I need to hear him even if he hates me. It’s better than not hearing his voice, at all.

“Hello?” It’s a girl’s voice, really high pitched. I forget if Aimee’s voice sounds like that. But it was definitely not Corey who answered, so I hang up. Maybe I have the wrong number. Maybe I have forgotten Corey’s number. It’s so sad, because I really want to remember him, instead of remembering other things. I speed-dial the number I have for him. Maybe I’m going crazy, but when I look at the number I have in my phone, I could have swore that’s what I dialed.

“Hello?” It’s Corey’s voice this time, I definitely recognize it. He sounds like he was just laughing with someone. My stomach feels sick again, and I have to swallow hard to fight it off. “Hello? Who’s this?”. Corey sounds pissed now, like he’s attacking something.

I can barely speak, hearing his voice after wanting to talk to him for so long. Somehow I manage to say,“Corey?”

It’s really quiet for like I don’t know how long. I think I hear someone laughing in the back, and then I hear Corey cursing, but not on the phone. I almost hang up, but then Corey is back. “What do you want, Emily?”

He doesn’t sound pissed anymore. He sounds almost bored. I almost wish he was pissed like before, like in a weird way it would be better. I feel like I’m going to barf out my heart. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“About what.” It doesn’t sound like he really wants to know.

“I don’t know. I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Why?” There’s someone laughing again in the back, and I swear I hear Corey saying, “Shut the f@&* up! I want to get this shit over with.” I wish I could die right there. I almost hang up when Corey gets back on the phone. “So what’s up. Are you okay?”

I suddenly feel happy. He does still care about me. He has said he loves me, so maybe he’s just been pissed because he’s upset about what I did. So I say, “No. I really miss you and want to see you.”

Now there’s laughing, and it’s definitely Corey this time. “Well, you can forget about that shit. You kissed that ass goodbye when you decided to f@&* me over with Troy and Sam and humiliate me. Do you know how many people were laughing at me that day?”

“But they attacked me. I was screaming, people told me that. I just wanted to get drunk with them.” I feel like I’m reading some fake script, but I feel like my face is getting slapped. I don’t know why.

“Oh, you were screaming all right.” He’s laughing. I hear someone, like a girl saying something like “Oh, oh, oh, no, no, no, yes, yes, yes! I like it nice and rough because I’m a ho ho ho!!” Then I hear Corey saying, “Aimee, grow the f@&* up.” But he’s laughing as he’s saying it. And it’s like my worst nightmare, he’s with Aimee, of all people, and he’s laughing at me with her. I wonder how much people saw, like if everyone saw me having sex with two guys, and I wonder if I was screaming, why no one stopped them at all when everyone was there at the party. I wonder what Corey saw, and if he did why he didn’t help. I have to know, while I still have him on the phone, even though everything is spinning.

“How do you know? Did you watch or something?”

“I saw enough.”

Mt heart is killing me it’s pounding so hard as I say, “I don’t know what that means.”

“Oh, come on. You’re telling me you don’t remember?”

I can’t stand that he doesn’t believe me. “No. I don’t really know at all.”

“Oh. So how the f@&* do you know you were raped, if you don’t remember? Not everyone believes that you were, you know. It’s a big topic.” I can’t believe the boy I fell in love with is saying this to me. I hear Aimee scream, “Bigger than the Kardashians!” and Corey say, “Aimee, get lost. Go put on your makeup or something.” But he’s laughing. He’s not pissed at her at all.

“Who’s with you?” I know already, but I hope it’s just part of this nightmare I’m stuck in. “Are you with Aimee?”

“What difference does it make to you? You made your choice that night, having sex with two guys that weren’t me. So it’s none of your business who I’m with. I’ve moved on. That’s all you need to know.”

I feel like I’m like an idiot saying this, but my heart and everything inside me is screaming inside of me when I ask, “You’re breaking up with me?”

“What’s there to break up? Tell me that, Emily.”

I don’t know what to say, so I just be silent. It’s then I notice I’m crying. I don’t even know when it started. The crying makes my head feel worse, but I can’t stop. “We were together for eight months, that’s what. I thought you loved me.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what to tell you. I can’t be with you, Emily, not after that night. Even if you were raped.”

“Why not?”

“Why not? You’re really asking that? Are you out of your f@&*ing mind?”

“Corey, I’m sorry. I was just so mad at you that night. I didn’t mean anything.”

“Except getting drunk with the biggest players of the school. Good thing I took the video. You see it yet?”

Everything goes blank. “You took that video?”

“What did you think I’d do, when my girlfriend is literally f@&*ing me over in front of the whole school? Sit there and put up with it as you’re sticking your tongue down some asshole’s throat? You know I can’t stand those dipshits, and that’s what you decide to do just because you’re on the rag with me? No, I didn’t stay for the whole show, so I’m sorry if you got raped or whatever. But I’m glad I got everyone on my side with that shit, seeing you throwing yourself at those assholes.”

If I didn’t feel so desperate, I’d tell him to f@&* off. But everyone hates me so much, I can’t handle it that the first boy I loved hates me worse than everyone else. I’m trembling as I say, “Corey, I’m so sorry. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Just don’t leave me. I need you so much.”


“Please, Corey? I love you so much! It’s all my fault, Corey! I’m sorry I did anything with anyone. Please, don’t leave me! I need you with me, everyone else is such an asshole! Please?”

“God, Emily! No! No f@&* ing way! What do you want from me? How can I even go into school with you, hearing ‘There’s the rape victim!’ ‘There’s the rape victim!’ “No, she didn’t get raped, she likes doing it with everyone’. ‘She got what she deserved, stupid whore!’ And you expect me to put up with that, when everyone saw what happened? Do you think I want to be seen as an idiot, hanging out with you?”

“But it wasn’t my fault!” I don’t know if that’s true anymore. But it might, and I want Corey to take my side, like he has so many times before.

But he doesn’t. “Like hell it wasn’t! What the f@&* were you thinking, getting drunk with Samuel and Troy like that? What did you think would happen? As far as I can see, you wanted to get it on with both of them. It’s not like they beat you up, or anything. Everyone saw that. So maybe you liked it. How should I know?”

“Because it wasn’t like that. You have to trust me!”

“I have to trust you? Are you f@&*ing sick? You’re the one that got drunk with the two biggest addicts in the school. I couldn’t believe it. That’s why I took the video of it, in case you tried to pull this shit that you were some innocent victim! You were the one getting drunk with them! Do you think they even liked you? They just wanted to f@&* you because you do it with everyone!”

“What?! I don’t do—”

“Oh come on! I know you weren’t even a virgin when you got with me. You probably did it when you were ten.” I hear Aimee saying, “Oh, oh oh, yes yes yes!”, but Corey ignores her. “You know what? I take back what I said before. I don’t feel bad at all for you. If you did get raped, you got what you deserved. I don’t feel bad for taking the video of you at all. You f@&*ed me over, so you had it coming. Don’t ever call me again, you bitch.” He slams the phone down, and everything goes silent. But then I hear a strange howl, and then I realize it’s coming from me. I sound like an animal. I’d probably be better off if I were, because people are such assholes I hate all of them. I don’t know what happened. It’s like the world looked at me, and told me to f@&* off. Everyone can just go to hell.

I want to get drunk so badly, and I know where my mother keeps all her shit. If she bothers me, she can just go to hell and tell her friends what a slut I am and how I ruined her life, like she’s so perfect. Besides, the house is all quiet now, which means she left and didn’t even say goodbye to me. No one did, not even Corey. I want to go over to Corey’s house and kill him. I wish I could drive a car, so I could run him over and mash him into little pieces. I hate him worse than Troy or Sam. Now, I’m glad I screwed him over. He’s such an stupid idiot, parading a video of me kissing someone else in front of him. When I look at Facebook on Troy’s page, it’s plastered on his wall. He says under it, “Looks like the f@&*ing bitch is enjoying herself to me!” It’s been tagged all over the place. When I play the video, there’s cheering in the back. Someone yells, “F@&* the skank!” Troy starts moving in on me more, and then the video cuts out.

I also go to Aimee’s page, and see that she says she’s in a relationship with Corey. I don’t know what I feel when I see this. I want to punch the computer, throw up, and kill the next person I see. Corey was so secretive about his status with me, but he’s with Aimee for two weeks and it’s plastered all over the planet. She’s uploaded a photo of her kissing Corey, and you can see her sticking her tongue down his throat, and I can tell he likes it. It looks like the one Corey took of me kissing Troy. F@&* her, she’s a bitch. And Corey is an asshole. Everyone is an asshole. But they are all out there, and I’m here. Alone. No one is texting me, no one is calling me, even my mom has run away from me. I don’t know what the f@&* I’ve done to deserve any of this, everyone else thinks they’re innocent and thinks they’re some kind of victim. I hate them all.

But before I get drunk, I go back to the computer. I delete my Facebook account. I delete my Formspring account. I imagine Brenda getting all shocked on me, saying I’m not standing up for myself. That it’s important to make a stand, to remember so others don’t wind up in the same place as me. As I delete my pages, I remembering her saying stupid shit like that to me, like it’s supposed to make me feel better. I don’t even know what that means, to make a stand so others don’t wind up in the same place as me. So if I don’t run out and do as Brenda says, it’s my fault if some other girl gets raped? It’s bad enough that everyone’s blaming me for getting raped or whatever myself, I have to be responsible for the whole world now? I’m so sick of everyone, they all make me sick with their shit. That bitch Brenda wants me to spend all my time remembering, but I don’t want to anymore. It’s not her f@&*ing life, anyway.

Soon, I’m getting drunk, on a bottle of vodka that tastes like weird strawberry. My mom thinks she’s less of drunk when she gets these messed up flavored alcohol, kind of her like thinking she’s less of a slut than me when she’s the one who cheated on my dad first. The vodka goes down nice once I get over the weird taste, and I’m glad that no one is around as it burns into me. It takes the edge off of what I’m thinking, because when I sit here with all the curtains closed and for some reason everything goes from dark to darker, I don’t know if everyone’s right or not. If they all believe that I’m to blame, maybe I am. I don’t know, because I don’t remember anything. But they don’t want me anyway, so I guess none of it matters, anymore. But then, if they don’t care about me and never did, I don’t see why I should ever care about them, ever again. They can all kiss my ass.

The sun is going away. I can tell, because the light through my curtains is getting less and less. Soon, it’s raining out because I hear it tapping on the window. I don’t know why, but it makes me feel better. I think of Aimee getting wet and freaking out on Corey, getting all high maintenance on him. Well, he got what he deserved, too, hooking up with such a stupid airhead, if he’s asshole enough to think I deserved to be raped. The alcohol makes me feel warm, and the rain is coming down harder, on everyone in the world who screwed me over. The world can go to hell, but I’m still here, safe and dry away from them. I smile, thinking of this. I don’t remember much since I got screwed over, but I seem to remember this. It’s the first time I’ve smiled in months.

2 Responses to “From Dark To Darker”

  1. Touching and melancholic, still there is a light at the end of the tunnel. It ends with a smile, I guess the first and precious step to recovery. When body and mind go we’re left just with spirit.

    Warm regards