Invisible

BROKEN

WHEN WE RETURNED HOME, Mark wasn’t there. Jeremy didn’t stay long, had to meet my boyfriend and his older brother downtown. Weekly charity work, something Jeremy did every summer. I’d go with him a few times, would see just how much of a nice guy he was.

I can see how wrong I was.

He kissed me before he left, told me he loved me. I stood in the foyer until his truck was long gone, until I was sure he wasn’t coming back. Then I ran upstairs, slammed my door.

His body was pressing onto me…

I still felt his hands, had to get them off of me. I stripped as I ran into my bathroom, turned the shower on.

I tried to scream, but he covered my mouth…

I stepped inside, kept scrubbing myself as if that were a way to get rid of him, as if that would get the whatever he left off of me. I kept crying as I scrubbed my skin, his hands still eating it all away, his voice still repeating the words I didn’t want to hear.

You’re not the only girl I could do this with.

It’s not rape if you let it happen.

I turned the shower off, stepped out into the bathroom again. I looked in the mirror, saw exactly what I saw earlier – nothing. I couldn’t see myself anymore. All I could see was a busted lip, skin angry red from scrubbing too hard, eyes that had nothing inside…

I couldn’t see me.

And I hated the girl I saw.

And somehow my lungs refused to work.

My body started quivering, my eyes digging deep into where my heart was supposed to be.

And then he was inside of me, and…

 I punched the mirror, watched the glass crumble and fall. There was a hole where my face would have been, and all I could see was the wall behind me, the linen cabinet, the open door. Punching a mirror wasn’t enough. Not being able to see anything wasn’t enough. I still felt him… I still felt everything.

I took a piece of glass from the mirror, slid down to the floor. Two perfect lines soon ran across my arm, blood drooling down to my fingers, dripping onto the floor. I smiled as Jeremy’s hands started to break away. It still wasn’t enough. No, I wanted out. I wanted to be freed of this for good. Just as I raised the glass, thought to bury it beneath my skin, to dig out the veins that ran, to stop the empty heart from beating… Mark walked into my bedroom, saw what I was doing….

“Emma, what the hell are you doing?!” he yelled, grabbing my wrist, yanking the piece of glass out of my hand. I cried, knowing that Jeremy would still be able to do whatever he wanted to me. I knew I didn’t stand a chance, not living with Mark. He’d let it happen.

What made everything worse was the next day, I met Satan.