Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Fiction With a Warning: One Decision

****This post may be disturbing to some readers. (Especially those sensitive to violence)****

Insert spacers so those who wish to avoid this post can do so.

I don't think any less of you.

Hope you don't think any less of me.

This is fiction. But...


It was just one decision and it took seconds to make.

It was crowded and the air hung thick with smoke, the kind of smoke that makes your eyes burn when they finally receive fresh air. The male to female ratio tipped heavily on the male side and the women, if you could call them that (and that would depend on your current age and perspective whether girls and boys would be more appropriate terms), were enjoying the attention and free libations that sort of ratio invited. Music twanged and the few with actual dancing skills were seeking out the few of the opposite sex with actual dancing skills.

It was the kind of bar that appealed to a wide demographic. Cheap beer specials brought out anyone from college students to grandparents. It was deceptively friendly.

She had enjoyed her fair share of free beer and booze. She hardly noticed when the same man bought her a second shot and moved to the table behind her and her friend. She and her friend hung out there the same day every week. It was familiar, the staff knew them and treated them accordingly. It was a honky tonk kind of Cheers, where everyone knew their names and their drinks.

The laughs came easy and the girls tried to hold in the first visit to the restroom as long as possible. "Once you break the seal..." they joked. Their acquaintances, while well-meaning, contributed to unwise decisions.

The two were best friends, similar in many ways (it turned out to be the ways that mattered then), yet brought up in two different worlds. They were at a time of life that they needed one another emotionally. They were growing into women together. They were together in spirit even when they weren't together, anticipating the next adventure they would conquer.

They looked out for one another. They teased one another. They understood one another. They were a partnership before some people made the word mean something different.


So it was unusual for them to leave separately. And they shouldn't have. But when one must return home and the other seems reluctant to leave the party, arrangements can be made hastily without consideration of consequences.


She felt uneasy the moment he turned into an unfamiliar apartment complex. She reminded him she didn't live here and gave him her address again but he laughed and said he needed to get something from his apartment. Her head was spinning by that point so she followed him blindly into the building, hoping she wouldn't hurl on the sidewalk.

He unlocked the door and pushed it open. It was a typical bachelor's place, complete with bare walls and hand-me-down furniture. It seemed clean enough and she decided to sit on the sofa before she fell over. He was somewhere in the apartment, she heard him rummaging in the refridgerator and the clink of what she assumed was a beer bottle. Seconds later she heard the toilet flush.

It occurred to her that he didn't seem to be there to gather anything and he seemed to be settling into his apartment rather than getting ready to depart again. At the same time, the room was spinning against her wishes. She tried to stand but fell back on the sofa.

It was then, even in her incapacitated state, she realized she may have ingested more than alcohol.

Then he was there. Sneering. Or maybe smiling. His face had blurred beyond recognition. Then he was holding a half-empty bottle of beer and unzipping his pants with the other hand. It was clear she wouldn't be arriving home anytime soon.

She protested. He laughed and called her a tease. She hit. He held her hands down with surprising ease. She gave in, thinking she deserved this. She'd consented to this situation. She hated herself.

Her insides burned with the dryness. She thought of her friend and hoped she'd made it home okay. She thought of her own stupidity.

She fought to stay alert and simultaneously wondered why she wanted to be awake for it. He grunted and she thought of a hog.

It was an eternity in 10 minutes. Maybe five.


It was months before she would admit to herself what had happened. To label it. The "R" word was frightening, dirty. It made her feel disgusting and ugly. She had already felt ugly. She'd spent an hour or more in the shower that morning when he finally took her home. Once she labeled it she stuffed it deep inside her and tried to avoid it.

She drowned it in beer and wine and booze (but never Jaeggermeister, never again Jaeggermeister). She imagined she saw him in bars everywhere she went. She was wreckless with her heart and her body and her emotions. She punished herself almost daily for making the wrong choice even though she knew that others would say it wasn't her fault.

She knew. She'd made the choice.

1 people like me!:

Chelle said...

Very well written. Very scary yetsadlycommon tale

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