waiting room. She wasn’t informed of my situation since I hadn’t provided written authorization.
The next few days were filled with thoughts of the baby. I was just a kid myself. I knew immediately that I couldn’t kill this baby growing inside of me; after all, it wasn’t the baby’s fault. I read the pamphlets on different choices I had regarding the pregnancy. The decisions that had to be made were overwhelming. I knew it was time to talk to my mom. I waited for her to come home from work. Throughout that day, I had felt sick and towards the evening, I was experiencing severe cramping. I dragged myself to the restroom and held onto the sink due to the excruciating pain I was experiencing while I sat on the toilet. Too soon, I felt big clots of blood being released from my body. The twisting of my insides was unbearable. Moments later when I attempted to get up, I saw the large clumps of blood and knew I would be flushing down my baby’s lifeless body.
When my mom finally arrived, I was lying on the bathroom floor. I don’t remember much after that. I simply recall waking up in the hospital. Apparently, I had lost an excessive amount of blood when I miscarried the baby. My mother was in tears. She asked me who had done this to me and if it was consensual. I couldn’t face her. She pleaded for me to say something. All I could say was that I had been forced. After she overcame the initial shock, her first reaction was to notify the police. I begged her not to say anything and cried profusely. She wanted to discuss the situation. Every time I tried, I felt as if I was reliving that sickening encounter all over again and cried uncontrollably. Eventually, she stopped asking.
Since that day, I made it a point to move forward with my life with a hope that my mom would never bring up that subject again. She took the remaining days of my summer vacation off and we spent every moment together, never touching that forbidden topic. When it was time to return to school, she changed her work hours to reflect my school schedule.”
I sigh. I have never thought back to that day, especially with so much detail. Now, it feels as if that loathsome incident just occurred. I can smell the outdoor musty scent each boy possessed, I can taste the liquor that was poured into my mouth, and I can even savor the metallic flavor from my blood. All my senses were awakened by retelling and reliving that experience. I even said the word “rape,” I have never used that word to pertain to myself. I recreated that nightmare and still managed to survive. Slowly, I feel my spirit relax and a tremendous weight lift off my shoulders.
“Did you ever see the boy who helped you out again?” Josh asks quietly.
“Yes. When I transferred to my new school, I saw him on the first day. We didn’t speak to each other. Actually, I didn’t speak to anyone. A week passed by and one day during lunch, he sat by me, pulled out a brown paper bag, and in the form of a question said ‘cheesecake?’ I smiled, but didn’t speak. He handed me a plastic fork and we both ate the cheesecake in silence. The next day, I brought him two different flavored cheesecakes from my mom’s bakery. I handed him the container that morning and walked away without saying anything. For a whole month, we sat together during lunch in a comfortable silence. I finally broke my muteness by saying a simple ‘thank you.’ To this day, we have never spoken of that incident. Kade is my life saver in more ways than one.” I turn to Josh and smile.
I think back to how Kade respects my privacy and has never questioned me regarding that incident. Since the day I broke the silence between us, Kade and I have been inseparable. The repulsive experience I endured made me become completely closed off to people, with the exception of Kade, that is. I used to hide behind dark baggy clothes and did my best to remain inconspicuous. As I grew older, I was settled on not allowing my past to
The next few days were filled with thoughts of the baby. I was just a kid myself. I knew immediately that I couldn’t kill this baby growing inside of me; after all, it wasn’t the baby’s fault. I read the pamphlets on different choices I had regarding the pregnancy. The decisions that had to be made were overwhelming. I knew it was time to talk to my mom. I waited for her to come home from work. Throughout that day, I had felt sick and towards the evening, I was experiencing severe cramping. I dragged myself to the restroom and held onto the sink due to the excruciating pain I was experiencing while I sat on the toilet. Too soon, I felt big clots of blood being released from my body. The twisting of my insides was unbearable. Moments later when I attempted to get up, I saw the large clumps of blood and knew I would be flushing down my baby’s lifeless body.
When my mom finally arrived, I was lying on the bathroom floor. I don’t remember much after that. I simply recall waking up in the hospital. Apparently, I had lost an excessive amount of blood when I miscarried the baby. My mother was in tears. She asked me who had done this to me and if it was consensual. I couldn’t face her. She pleaded for me to say something. All I could say was that I had been forced. After she overcame the initial shock, her first reaction was to notify the police. I begged her not to say anything and cried profusely. She wanted to discuss the situation. Every time I tried, I felt as if I was reliving that sickening encounter all over again and cried uncontrollably. Eventually, she stopped asking.
Since that day, I made it a point to move forward with my life with a hope that my mom would never bring up that subject again. She took the remaining days of my summer vacation off and we spent every moment together, never touching that forbidden topic. When it was time to return to school, she changed her work hours to reflect my school schedule.”
I sigh. I have never thought back to that day, especially with so much detail. Now, it feels as if that loathsome incident just occurred. I can smell the outdoor musty scent each boy possessed, I can taste the liquor that was poured into my mouth, and I can even savor the metallic flavor from my blood. All my senses were awakened by retelling and reliving that experience. I even said the word “rape,” I have never used that word to pertain to myself. I recreated that nightmare and still managed to survive. Slowly, I feel my spirit relax and a tremendous weight lift off my shoulders.
“Did you ever see the boy who helped you out again?” Josh asks quietly.
“Yes. When I transferred to my new school, I saw him on the first day. We didn’t speak to each other. Actually, I didn’t speak to anyone. A week passed by and one day during lunch, he sat by me, pulled out a brown paper bag, and in the form of a question said ‘cheesecake?’ I smiled, but didn’t speak. He handed me a plastic fork and we both ate the cheesecake in silence. The next day, I brought him two different flavored cheesecakes from my mom’s bakery. I handed him the container that morning and walked away without saying anything. For a whole month, we sat together during lunch in a comfortable silence. I finally broke my muteness by saying a simple ‘thank you.’ To this day, we have never spoken of that incident. Kade is my life saver in more ways than one.” I turn to Josh and smile.
I think back to how Kade respects my privacy and has never questioned me regarding that incident. Since the day I broke the silence between us, Kade and I have been inseparable. The repulsive experience I endured made me become completely closed off to people, with the exception of Kade, that is. I used to hide behind dark baggy clothes and did my best to remain inconspicuous. As I grew older, I was settled on not allowing my past to
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