[NOT INTENDED FOR CHILDREN AUDIENCES. VIEWER DISCRESSION ADVISED FOR INAPPROPRIATE LANGUAGE & SEXUAL CONTENT.]
the Captive, part 1
15 April 2011; age 18
“What are you doing out here all alone?”
The party’s host, “Daryl,” stepped from the house into the garage where I was playing beer pong against myself. I’d slipped out to escape the haunting thoughts & voices of my boyfriend, “Calvin,” & my close friend, “Brenda,” as they enjoyed each other’s intimate company, abandoning me completely. Despite the intense betrayal & abandonment gurgling within, I could not leave because I was far from home & Brenda had driven. I was stuck. Trapped. A captive to this night.
“Aren’t you cold?” Daryl persists, approaching me.
His words were soothing but his actions were not as he pathetically attempted to clothe his unwanted flirtation in kindness & sympathy. He coaxed me, calmly luring me to sit with him on the couch. He expressed remorse for the traitorous act of his dear friend Calvin. But his friendly motions soon became inappropriate as he put his arm around me, then placed his other hand upon my leg… & so the nightmare began.
Large man hands in motion; dress up, thong down, attempting to gain easy access to a precious gift. I slapped his hand away, getting off of the couch to move away from him. He wouldn’t let me go back in the house, & I was too intoxicated to concoct a scheme to get around him. He drew me in, pressed his luck, sucked me in. Aware of his games, I violently pulled away.
He could only take so much sexual tension, & I was already his captive. I was his prisoner; as my guard, he held authority over my fate that night. I was there for him to consume as he desired.
How I let it happen, I’ll never truly understand. Weakness & weariness from a draining night of drinking & devastation eventually caused me to discontinue pushing the beast away. He scooped me up in his large arms & carried me through that door to his bedroom, all the while “no, no, no” spilling from my exhausted lips. The door shut. I had no choice, it seemed.
It was dark.
He laid me on the bed.
He was on top of me, & I had no say in the matter.
Repeating the exclamation,
“NO!”
inflicted no dent upon his determination. He held me captive, took over control. Three forty seven in the morning, & I had no power. Aside from this beast, I was alone.
Weak.
Helpless.
Consumed.
Caged.
Trapped.
Captive.
He consumed me, ate me alive, devoured me whole, then spat me back out with zero remorse. All worth which coitus held previously dissolved that night. For forty nonstop minutes, the nightmare continued. I passed out halfway through, my only marker of reality being the digital clock to my right. It flashed red block numbers that pointed to the existence of something beyond that wretched moment.
I took it. He shoved, & I could only resist for so long. My eyes, if not staring at the clock, were closed with desperate defeat. While I maintained a semi-sane mind, I would glance from the clock to the door with hopeful expectation of somebody walking in & rescuing me.
But there was no one to rescue me. Brenda & Calvin were busy pleasuring each other, & everyone else had left the party.
The rest of the night is hardly worth mentioning. I escaped, finally, once my captor was exhausted enough to fall asleep beside my trembling body. I went out to the living room only to be coldheartedly rejected by Brenda & Calvin.
After a good cry in the kitchen, I returned to the horrid bed that held my nightmares. In the morning, we left with few words. I was dropped off at home by Brenda & Calvin; they proceeded to spend time together & date seriously. Today, three & a half years later, Calvin & Brenda are still together.
The remaining conversations between Calvin & I sent chills up my spine as I read his hateful & threatening messages: “That [there’s more than he knows] is a lie. Quit trying to draw me in. This is a waste of my time & life even messaging you back. I am having a good time with Brenda. I don’t wanna deal with your BS. & yeah, I was fucking Brenda & enjoying every bit of it. I despise you. I feel absolutely nothing for you now. When I see you I think you’re ugly as fuck because of your personality. You’re not worth my time nor anyone else’s. For the love of Job, Kristin, you’re not all there in the head, seriously. If you speak to Brenda again & run your mouth to people I will take it to the police.”
With substantiated suspicions, I asked Calvin, “Did you just tell Daryl to hook up with me so you could get with Brenda?” He responded, “That is just something you will never hear from me only ‘cause I want it to FUCK with your head.”
It most definitely did mess with my mind.
The rest of senior year of high school, Brenda & I still sat at the same damn lunch table with the same circle of friends, as we had for four intense years of growth. It was devastating, hearing of her happiness while I lay in absolute calamity.
Intense fiery hatred churned within my soul with great passion. I had bequeathed unto Calvin & Brenda my trust, in its possible entirety. They embraced my heart with little care; they abandoned me. With my heart & trust held within the palms of their hands, all they had to do was squeeze. They shut their hands, & I was crushed. Just like that, my world collapsed. Though the party’s host was to blame for the worst of that night, it began & end with the betrayal of my two close friends, & that hurt more than the abuse.
To top it off, there grew those four letters placed in an awkward stance upon the page of my life: rape.
The Gutting