12
"Well I'll see you guys on Wednesday and don't forget to get that paper done," said Professor Wilson before dismissing us. I took my time throwing the books into my bag because all the other students were crowding by the door trying to get out of this hellhole.
When I finally got out and walked into the empty hallway, I felt my arm get pulled on. With fear bubbling within me, I began screaming. Oh God, I can't do this again. I began to punch and kick the person behind me who was holding on to me so tight as tears as tears decided to break free.
"Calm down, Arie. It's just me. Ashton," he made himself known. A breath of relief escaped my mouth immediately. More tears flowed, but they were tears of relief. He turned me around and looked into my eyes. "What's wrong?" He cupped my face with worry clinging onto his brows. "Why are you crying?"
I wiped away my tears and calmed myself down. "Nothing."
"You know you can't lie to me. Tell me what's wrong. Now!" He demanded.
I didn't want to tell him. Not right now at least. I had to lie to him too. "I had a nightmare last night where I was being chased by some really bad people. So when you pulled me that memory came into my mind and scared me. That's all."
He squinted his eyes at me, not really buying my bullshit. "You sure? I don't really buy it."
"Trust me. I'm fine. You don't have to worry," I reassured him and myself. But I deep down knew I was no where close to being fine. Fine was the biggest lie a woman could tell.
"If you say so." He turned me around and put a hand around my shoulder. We began to walk towards my next class which we had together.
"You really scared me back there," he finally spoke up a few minutes later as we neared the class.
"Didn't know a guy like you got scared too. Thought it was just something us 'little girls' did. Isn't that what you always say?" I mocked the idiot.
"Hilarious. You're hilarious," he said with a straight face. "So, how was your weekend?"
"It was alright," I cleared my throat trying to swallow the huge lump that was stuck. That night started so much shit and I didn't want to think about it. "How was yours?"
"Well there was a party held at the frat house for me and it was awesome," he voice bellowed in elation.
"Okay, I get it. Jesus! Spare my ears. You scream like a banshee," I said while covering my ears.
"Shush! There's more," he continued. "I passed out in the backyard by the pool of the house. I don't remember much of that night but I know it was a good night. And drumroll," he imitated his hands like a drummer.
I waited for the good news of him getting into the NFL. I always knew he would considering he worked so hard for it and that was the thing he was most passionate about. "Go on," I encouraged, getting excited for him.
"I met a girl yesterday," he smiled while mine faded away. The excitement literally fell from my features. Not what I expected, but whatever rocked his boat.
"Good! The shirts that I gave you as a present helped you then," I smiled sheepishly.
"I guess. Thanks sissy. Oh and the girl has a sexy British accent. I just think about how she'd talk when we'll..."
I covered his mouth quickly before he could go any further and spit something provocative out. I knew exactly what he was going to say and I didn't want to hear it. "Please stop right there. I don't want to hear what you have to say any further. Please. Don't torture me," I pleaded and entered the huge classroom, making my way to the seat in the back corner while Ashton went and sat with his jock friends in the front, eyeing the young professor up and down.
Soon enough the class was dismissed. Ashton hitched a ride back home with me, annoying me to death. "Don't do that, don't do this, watch it, look ahead," was all he kept yammering the entire time. He had a car, but didn't use it much so hitching a ride with me from school was what he did every other Monday.
Upon reaching home, we both sprinted to our respected rooms and stayed there in our own little world. His world was a loud, game-filled one. Mine was a sad, sappy, dark one lately. Laying on my bed listening to Lana Del Ray was how I was spending my time until Aunt Wendy came home from work, barging into my room in her usual professional lawyer attire and locking it behind her. The sudden intrusion made me sit up straight.
"What is it?" I asked her.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Sudden fear jolted up my body as I could feel the tears flooding my eyes. How did she figure out? "I'm sorry. I meant to tell you, but I didn't want to worry you," I said while my jittery fingers nervously toyed with one another.
"Worry me? Of course I'd be worried. What did you expect?" She said as low as possible so that Ashton couldn't hear. We made a deal that he wouldn't know until I wanted to tell him myself. "Why didn't you tell me that you were having nightmares and had a panic attack today?" I couldn't help the sigh of relief that left my mouth at realizing that she wasn't talking about last night. "Ashton texted me and told me. I expect you to tell me first if anything is wrong. How long have you been having nightmares?"
"Well, I've been having nightmares, but they're minor ones and I didn't freak out because of someone chasing me in a dream. I freaked because of the rape. The traumatic experience of it has been killing me slowly." A lone tear toppled over my lid. "I hate when people touch me now. And when Ashton pulled me, all the horrible memories came flooding back in. I couldn't help it. I felt like someone was trying to hurt me again."
Aunt Wendy came closer and sat on my bed in front of me. "You're going through so much all alone. Why didn't you tell me, Arie? Am I not important enough to know what's going on in my mermaid's life?" She said while putting a finger under my chin and lifting up my head. Tears flowed through her eyes just like mine. Seeing her cry saddened me even more.
"I'm sorry," I croaked out, choking on my tears.
"Maybe you should see a therapist to get through this mess," she said warily.
I shot my eyes up at her. "But I don't want to tell a random person about my problems," I cried.